#i don't really post too much spoilers though

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

mouthwashing responsibility au rambles below cut 🫡

(spoiler warning for the actual game obviously)

- even though jimmy got deservedly knocked out by anya and thrown into the cryopod early on, the crash still does happen. it's a freak accident this time, like maybe a piece of space debris just happened to hurtle right into them without time to dodge. it's like the tulpar is destined to crash. but this time it's a story about a group of people finding hope and strength in each other and finding what they themselves can be capable of in a time of crisis. btw i just mean curly, anya, swansea, and daisuke. i am NOT repenting jimmy. he ain't "fixing" shit.

- i'm sorry for frying curly again even though this is supposed to be an au with a happier ending 😭 the way his loss of autonomy reflects anya's own loss of it, making him feel firsthand the suffering she went through in a way, felt too important to just remove. curly's injuries aren't as terrible as in the original timeline since swansea rescued him earlier. and by "not as terrible" i mean he only loses a leg and not all of his limbs. he will get some function in his hands eventually and anya teaches him sign language to help him communicate (she teaches the others too).

- speaking of anya, she really shows her stuff as a nurse (even in the original timeline she does, managing to keep curly alive like that). she treats curly and swansea and is much more of a pillar of strength for the crew than she herself realizes. pre-crash and post-jimmy-getting-fired, she was able to relax and open up more with everyone, building a stronger bond. when the crash happens, anya is of course terrified and hella stressed, but now she knows she has people who have her back, and it helps. she can be more confident in herself without a certain someone being there to belittle and hurt her. this time when she has to deal with something difficult, something traumatizing, she has people to support her. in this au, she is not pregnant because if she was, i don't see how keeping the baby would be a good thing for her. and i don't want her to have to deal with that situation without the proper medical supplies on top of everything else. she's been through enough.

- btw there is no shipping in this au. i personally really don't see how it could happen between anyone on the crew. if there was some sort of spark between anya and curly, it's definitely gone now and won't happen again. the most they'll be are friends (although the friendship/trust will have to be built from the ground up again after everything that's happened with jimmy). the only ship here is the tulpar.

- i know daisuke is seen as a "dumb kid" but i really don't think that's the case. we are seeing him thru jimmy's perspective mostly after all and jimmy is the definition of an unreliable narrator. i headcanon daisuke as having adhd like me who tends to lose focus on tasks easily because your brain is just going 102929 miles a minute and wandering to all sorts of places like me. he feels like someone who doesn't exactly know where they want to go in life like me. also he's definitely a hawaii kid born and raised and talks pidgin sometimes like me except i lost the pidgin :(. i'm totally not projecting my asian ass on the asian boy or anything. BUT ANYWAY i wanted to give daisuke more stuff to do and a chance to prove to himself that he can do these things, he can step up. so that's partially why i made swansea burn his hands rescuing curly. daisuke can now be filled with Determination and be swansea's hands in repairing things as he heals. it's going to be hard and it's going to be frustrating for both parties and sometimes they'll get upset at each other. but it will inevitably be a great bonding experience for the two. i cannot resist the call for more father-son moments.

- swansea my beloved. i am so sorry for burning your beautiful hands please forgive 😔🙏 i have to make my faves suffer a little. swansea's hands will heal up eventually and he'll be able to use them again, but there will be scars. i think him having to guide daisuke with doing repairs n stuff on the ship as his hands recover gives him a mission. something to distract him from completely falling into despair and alcoholism. that man is hanging on by a thread but by god he's going to help get these kids through this. they've all grown closer since jimmy was sacked and swansea feels a sort of responsibility towards protecting anya, daisuke and curly as the oldest one there. it's the dad instincts y'know? on the real hard days, sometimes swansea thinks about cracking open a bottle of mouthwash, but he holds back because he feels he needs to stay strong for the crew. however he does have to learn that he can't shoulder everything and that he can rely on others. him having no choice but to have daisuke take over his tasks is a good way for him to learn that, i think. swansea is definitely a pillar of strength in this and the rest of the crew have a lot of affection for him (and vice versa even if swansea won't admit it). can you tell i really like swansea. he is such a foil to jimmy—a guy who has fucked up a lot in his life but actually acknowledges his mistakes and is trying his hardest to be a better person. aghh swansea i love you 💛💛

- after the crash happens, the cryopod room becomes inaccessible, so nobody is able to check on the state of jimmy in there. so they don't see that the crypod he's in eventually fails from damage and he escapes. this happens a couple weeks into the crash. jimmy is still pissed about everything and still can't see how he's done anything wrong (this is because he is a delusional asshole). in fact, he feels like he's the one who's been wronged and betrayed by everyone on the crew and he wants revenge. there will be a final confrontation between jimmy and the crew. spoilers: jimmy loses. i'm just undecided on who finishes it. it would be fitting if anya shot him, but i'm not sure that's something she'd necessarily want to do. she chose to be in the medical field after all. don't get me wrong, i think she would pull the trigger if it meant protecting the others. but i'd hate to have her kill, because even if jimmy deserves it, anya is a healer and would still probably feel guilty about it. i don't want to put even more shit on her plate. so i think swansea is the one to put jimmy down in the end. with the axe of course. i think he'd feel less guilty about doing it because it's something he's wanted to do since anya first told him about jimmy. oooh what if jimmy gets his hands on the gun, but daisuke tackles him, making him drop it, and anya gets it and shoots jimmy in the shoulder or leg or something to get him off of daisuke, and then swansea comes in with the axe to finish him off. that could be fun. that way anya won't have to actually kill but she'll still get to shoot jimmy. bless.

- the crew gets rescued eventually, but it's going to be a few months because pony express is a nightmare company. i'm honestly still not sure if pony express is even the one who will rescue them or even bother to look. i'm tempted to just have another ship happen across them by some miracle and help. real tempted to make that ship The Unreliable and turn this into a Mouthwashing x The Outer Worlds crossover quite honestly since both settings share similarities (megacorporations, cryosleep, etc). but idk. it's not like i can just write a fanfic or anything since writing is harder for me and who knows how long it will be before i even draw the idea. it's just yet another self-indulgent daydream for now.

[mycatnamedlily]

total respect to those going offline till Good Omens season 2 airs but me? i've gone completely feral. i'm going to consume every art i see, read all the fics and reblog to my hearts content before, during and after it airs! i can't leave now!

[ddenji]

okay i think this is about to be an unpopular opinion but…. these two are like 2 sides of the same coin to me. beyond the shared public safety allegiance, they both violate denji's autonomy (yoshida stripping him to his underwear, tying him up, and threating his family in chapter 132 vs fumiko assaulting him in the movie theater in chapter 136) and work against his own best interest for the sake of the government. however, while they both take action in trying to force denji to do what they want, fumiko takes a more directly active role in the space of the fanatic who can't see/ doesnt care about the human behind her idol, whereas yoshida takes the more passive role of the government drone who wont act to protect the human if it means going against orders. in previous chapters, fumiko actively runs away from denji, leaving him to fight for himself, while yoshida passively tells denji that he isnt allowed to protect himself, putting him in harms way in his own right (and there is still the underlying threat of violence there if he tries to protect himself). even in the panels from this chapter, we see fumiko being active about her disregard for denji's well being by asking for little pieces of him, where yoshida is more passive in his disregard of the plan to dismember denji with a simple "yeah" answer. i know that they also have their differences, but i just think that they share intentional similarities (that other characters, particularly in the chainsaw man church, also share!!) that overall lead to denji getting hurt.

[caramellles]

"as time passed, we gradually began to feel that the worst was over. we still had to heal our physical and mental wounds, but we really started to come back to life."

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

So, Book of Bill, huh?

[kyouka-supremacy]

Well.

[chiarrara]

i caught up on jjk. favorite panels in the last few chapters, plus:

thematic catharsis coming around

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

"the Commander getting an elixir that allows them to talk to any animals that wish to speak with them is definitely a concept that I will use entirely responsibly" I say as a lying liar who tells lies.

[deviousdiesel]

.

[leos-regression-cove]

I was trying to give little Mobius a little splash of neurodiversity and accidentally dipped him like achilles into the autism vat.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

i think i've only seen a soma playthrough twice and the first time i didn't absorb it great lol but upon just some light brushing up (incl a short article that was one of the few results that cropped up when i was like "show me the images for 'soma's save feature featured fisting, right' (yeah basically)") it's like, it's always fun when you're just left with a lot of room to Interpret Themes and unsurprisingly at this juncture i'm lasering in on just, like, the matter of [the self vs the other] via this premise that basically people can just make a copy of their Psyche at any point (but needing to find a new & different Soma in which to upload it but like, largely setting that aside when In This Scenario the new bodies don't affect their minds / sense of self at all....except for when they sometimes do? or maybe not. the like glitchy monsters are just kind of WAU automatons, right. and the people are all able to act / communicate themselves as people, though they might be affected by like, existential crises over the goings on) wherein like....the protagonist can Split In Two* at a few points via the psyche copying/uploading, and then the game Follows the copy that will be continuing to advance the plot, and the version of the protagonist we Were following is now An Other even though it's like, that was The Self (at least insofar as that was our first person pov player character) up till just now. and the protagonist can Know like, yeah that's You right over there also. and yet iirc from like, yesterday's light research, in the first instance he at least gets the Option to kill that Other/Self who was, up till just then, the Self to us too, if that makes him feel better abt the existential crisis, or at least discomfort, enough to like, keep moving right along lol (speaking of. just the other day i was like "adagioly onomatopoeiaing the opening banjo strums of rainbow connection from the muppet movie soundtrack does so much for me" and then i learned it was the anniversary of its theatrical release. hell yes. also memorably once when like marinating for hours in a general malaise & failing to find the wherewital to get up i was like "haha oh wait. i'm playing the song 'movin right along' from the muppet movie in my head. okay" up & at em)

anyways the fisting article (which, i was wondering what thoughts it would have on that truly interesting facet of the game. mostly it posited that the uhh sphincteresque penetration of it all would be Typically considered to make cishet men anxious / threatened / vulnerable, and notes the protagonist (hypothetically a cishet man) is indeed trepidatious about it, while also arguing he markedly Doesn't really hesitate in shit that hurts or endangers others in the course of his shit (though ig that can also depend on the player? haven't really rewatched it recently enough to know how much his dialogue adds to [as a character though he's making it clearer he just wants to cut a swath through your shit asap]) and also questions whether the game thinks of (or, from their argument, knows of) the protag as pretty sphincteresque himself. and like yeah probably imo lol like thee ending being what it is, and as far as i know no like Multiple Endings like in amnesia series* stories usually, and thus more room to have a protagonist who talks to characters in the present and i think like, without the ability to choose what he says

anyways that the protagonist can Understand like, hey see that guy over there, that's literally also you rn, and yet he can [Not accept that] in one case such that he'll kill that Self for "his own" Self's comfort really, as the fisting article expressed, to continue believing he is Unique and the One True Self, the only Real [himself]. when, to be sure, the game Could have kept the first person pov on that version of him we'd Been up till then, and had that pov of the one killed. or maybe left behind in another instance, i don't remember all the "transfers"....catherine Explicitly explaining that only the copy/upload format is possible, Not Transfers, making sense what with like. her magic brain scans that can can wholly parse & store your Psyche data, whatever that'd be like, definitely not being meant to, say, Extract the person's Psyche from their living human body upon doing so. while the ending's drama comes from the game Now staying with the version of the protag who'd been our first person pov character prior to that "transfer," who is Again like "why am i still here" despite having the "it's not actually a transfer" explained, b/c This version Just So Happens to be the copy of the copy of the copy like simon(4) or (5) or whatever and ofc can't have been the one(s) already just left behind somewhere back there in the complex or he wouldn't have been able to be at that point in the first place. and then "killing" catherine b/c he's so pissed, i remember it as him hitting whatever device was her effective Soma, but the article i think suggested she just got too stressed in turn and that Output fried the device. while, of course, post credits shows us their "transferred" selves just fine chilling in the ark like whew glad all that's done with

anyways just getting around to the fact of how it's easy to land on catherine as the center of the game....and of course she's the one really Not having crises over [my god, copies of my Self] or others' selves or what all, having even less of a usual Soma than simon but rolling with it, and evidently having already fully absorbed her Self as a distinct version from her original Self, despite having the same links to her that make simon or anyone else who's been copied into whatever other Soma feel like he's continuously been Himself(tm), the one true Real Self he's always been....and like, naturally catherine being the one behind the entire project of [what if we copy/paste people's psyches into a big ol mmorpg server & shoot it into space so that Maybe something can happen with them / in a way they can continue to exist] so she's Been thinking of, you know, being separate from these Selves turned Others who you'll jettison into space beyond even the body of the earth. unless it's supposed to stay in orbit lol i do not remember the details....and ofc like plenty of other people are like wow that's Fucked Up or it's Not Us and like, the latter sure is true with with the [copying, not transferring] element, but also the former is more choose your own adventure (interpretation) when the game isn't about like, and the simulation Is fucked up, or there's any element of distress or dissonance to existing on the ark, though you can't really know that until the post credits scene confirms you're just hanging out for real....which, that article was also going in on the character who's on this quest to kill the WAU as like "the versions of us it makes isn't Real it's Corrupting" and like, arguably the WAU as just kind of, naturally, something capable of growing, and doing so, and the real problem seeming to come in with the [doing whatever for supposed safety but superceding/supplanting/displacing autonomy in doing so] like, people who did not agree to whatever was done re: their Somas or they would've remembered & been like yeah i'm hanging out as a robot now, or a goop guy, gunk [YES], etc. but separate from that obvious issue it's like, my guy, You're a copy made by the WAU now lol, you're your whole person that you are, with the thoughts & feelings to decide you wanna go on a quest to destroy it, and whatever capacity to pursue it....either way i think the game makes it clear enough the WAU is a Neutral force exercising no conscious discernment, it Is a body, or it's some body (once told me) anyways lol, though i guess i did just go "those Monsters that can chase you are just wau manifestations right" so that's getting kind of complex lol, but even that can be taken as, like, it Mimicking human's shapes & bipedality & other external characteristics, i guess, and just the way an overall theme can be [hmm where's that division between the soma and psyche, machine and ghost] the WAU has been expanding and making various forms of itself, and of humans, and that's also an element of the fisting that starts out as a fingering and can end with having to leave part of yourself in WAU's core if you have completed the choice to corrupt & destroy it, that Connection and Interfacing is required, with increasing [get it in there] required as well though there's no given clear in universe reason why (w/my theory here being: just the Themes of the increasing interaction / reducing Boundary)

where was i going with this. idk naturally there's people like "well you don't have to see the wau as evil or at least required to be destroyed" like yeah one can imagine the case for that, wherein again this one guy's hypothetically mad abt like oh it can't be Us it's making, like, brother in christ You are here as You are b/c of what wau did, if you don't think You're legitimate enough, how can you be dead set on pursuing any decision you make. but also the lack of autonomy wherein wau has (probably? again would have to rewatch) killed people to transfer them to a less fragile soma, but a) also maybe it's just acted when people were already dying / killed from other causes, and naturally there's the Everyone There Doomed To Die Fairly Imminently factor and b) that [wau's neutral / purely soma no psyche (or is it. etc)] aspect that is that classic mixup of wau just acting on its programming in a way unintended by its programmers re protecting life and c) i think WAU can sure be interpreted as a parallel counterpart to the ark project, where people agreed to the latter, & get to chill with simulated bodies in a simulated world, versus the WAU being that [body, world, realm of physical existence] which is funky & Not like a cool nice recreation of the usual world & is also at the bottom of the ocean, but it's sure trying to extend the existence of ppl's psyches by shoving them into whatever robots or slapping together parts or propping up their original body or what all, i don't remember that many of the characters encountered

Anyways Back To Catherine For Real. i'd forgotten this element completely, but that when catherine finds out her original self had been killed by crewmates (lol. amongst) for being set on carrying out the plan for the ark, Her Project, (i.e. launching it into space (risking that launch going incorrectly) vs keeping it on site at the bottom of the ocean here (theoretically less risky, according to at least the crewmate who killed her about her insisting on launching it anyways)) and catherine's copy / now alternate self comments on being like, a bit disappointed And surprised b/c like she says "i knew they didn't like me, but," like not thinking that dislike would lead to a semi accidental killing her (where apparently the guy who killed her may have been wearing the like powered diving suit w/the extra Strength to operate in the water pressure, like oh didn't mean to hit her That hard. in a different soma already) and seeing other ppl (not in universe) commenting on how it sure did seem to be culmination of like "the way others treated her" and how catherine always mentioned like, never having really had friends including as a crewmate here, being an Introvert....in fact, now i'm remembering that catherine doesn't even say "i knew they didn't like me, but" but rather something very close to "i know i'm not easy to like, but" like, aaaugh....like, as ever, a character or a Real Life Person sharing any particular info like "i'm [xyz]" Isn't Required for just trying to always not be ableist and to always treat other people as people even if they don't "just be normal" correctly enough, supposedly. rather than [what is "just being normal" is Correct & Good and you do Not need to undergo a continuous lifelong journey of in fact questioning this & navigating & learning how to communicate & interact & relate, you just need to fleetingly muster some superficial unhelpful Bonus efforts sometimes when you encounter the rare "exception" like someone who hands you their License To Autiste and you can let them keep their fidget cube and continue treating everyone you encounter ever organic aba style]....like, naturally in the game there's no twist where catherine turns out to be Evil or even antagonistic. she's like, patient, encouraging, friendly, helpful all throughout. she's also, ofc, simon's only guide (adding to the suspense of that [my god. my only guide was evil, and/or just my antagonist now anyways]) so he doesn't really get to pick someone he'd Like more. but that like, lifelong matter of why catherine doesn't Get to have had friends. that even as this professional associate she's treated differently, and worse, b/c you have to personally like someone & find them charming & je ne sais quoissy to Not be worse to them? it's fine to be shitty until catherine can, say, say "i've noticed you're being kind of shitty. it's probably b/c i'm autistic, officially, which i'm choosing to share with you & am now presenting my license about it, so maybe be cool about it" and then and only then go "oh ok" and Make The Exception rather than shifting your entire shitty Rule (they also would not actually really make the exception. "shoutout" too to the concept that, of course, it's actually Disrespectful to stop hating autistic ppl b/c you should treat them The Same as anyone else, and you're bringing that organic ABA all the time as part of your "just be normal" ethos life, so be sure to keep being an asshole to them & double empathy probleming putting all the depletion, extraction, punishment, losses, harms on them and all the rewards on yourself)

and like, catherine being killed b/c she was this Body who was going to take away the ark (her project / creation, which she was also just insisting on following what'd always been the plan for) wherein like, even if this guy didn't mean to kill her, he sure did after lashing out at her, same as happens w/simon in the end....and catherine also failing to be thee most "normal/default" version of a person as well by being a Woman, and probably not white either, and, of course, a nonwhite woman, also making her that much more vulnerable to being Out Of Line(tm) by just like, existing as a person & trying to do her shit, though misogyny, racism, orientalism or the like isn't explicitly invoked or especially implicitly hinted at that hard either, but it's like, how does this [scifi magical realism set in the not That distant future but material made in the way less distant past, i.e. all intents & purposes modern / current day of: in the 2010s] have Relevance beyond "would that be fucked up or what" type Invention that doesn't map on to our experiences at all....you don't Have to read into catherine twice being killed by a man who's lashing out b/c she's not delivering what he wants, but you sure don't Have to Not and be like "this is definitely No Misogyny world" like they're still being implicitly ableist b/c she's just not deemed Winsomely Likable enough, she's internalized that with that "i'm not easy to like" framing, why assume a premise of [misogyny is over] [racism is over] etc. whilest soma doesn't really proffer any scenario of like "oh if it weren't for our being able to perceive our designated Physical Differences in our human bodies, all that oppression would be over," that's not being explored even in the specific situation of its plot in the first place; people on the ark seem to have the simulation of the same bodies they originally did, ppl Can retain like, how they'd move, their voices, their sense of their bodies: elements of their physicality. and, you know, whether one even supposes there Is any meaningful body/mind division, though in soma it Is this premise like oh yeah we can digitize your psyche perfectly okay, such that your copy would experience no disruption in that Sense Of Selfness, which is what makes everything particularly like, whoah, and [wow this is just like soma] whenever something kind of invokes similar enough What Ifs but probably less engagingly lol....while also soma is flexible and spacious in letting you interpret shit, you Can defer from fisting wau to death, you don't have to be like "it's so true. thee horrors" abt the Copies Of Selves, who really just become Others to whatever now-other versions of that person, i.e. how catherine, who, as the person who wanted to scan copies of ppl's psyches & put them in a just chilling simulation server launched into space for the Chance of being copy/pasted elsewhere eventually and the chance for the participants to Exist in some form Now, and who did so, is never like, shocked or freaked out by the notion / reality of these copies' existence even though she didn't set out figuring any scans' uploads would end up on the ocean floor stations, she's not aghast & distressed in the end when after having uploaded her latest Self data to the ark & launched it, she's also Not on the ark and Still in the eventually / doomed ocean floor station, even if it's a bummer, b/c she has already just accepted That's How It Works....this [her] was not going to experience being Transferred, like she's Been saying, like she again tells simon while he's blowing up abt [why wasn't i transferred]....just clearly being an example of like, not everyone is like horrified and freaked out and like "that's fake &/or wrong" and you don't have to decide she's incorrect for being Like That, i.e. like, yep, this is the situation, i know there's the me who was killed and the me on the ark and the me here, and i know also we're also for intents and purposes separate people

all that is to say, like, yeah the Scifi What If specific [you can copy/paste your consciousness into a different soma] is there, but also you can be looking at it as just this like, pushing to thee limit of the Self(tm) and the Other(tm) insofar as imagining yourself, as the only Internality / Mind / Selfhood you have access to, as The One True Real Self and all Others as mere somas/bodies, whether you take that to as dehumanizing an extreme as you can or you just put some double standards on Others / treat them as lesser/less Real, or oh but just Sometimes, in Some Cases, which is fine and relevant to anything, rather than what's fine and relevant being to always be aware that everyone's Otherness is a matter of perspective, you're the Other to everyone else, everyone is just as The Self as everyone else, You Could Be That Other, that other Is [you] to themself, you are the "that could be you" to them....with soma, it can just be elevated to "that Other WAS you from 0.5 mmsec ago, and continues to be them, b/c they didn't experience any disruption in their existence, though now you're both in different situations of: different locations, different bodies, the awareness there's that Other Self over there now, possibly the difference of killing that self you were just copied from so you can go on feeling like the One Real Self"....but wherein like, that's just like, [What If: you Were able to wholly & accurately Know the self inside an Other? b/c it's you from 5 min ago] of like, scenarios like [what if you time traveled 5 min into the past] except wherein that case there's usually the efforts to Resolve(tm) the timeline of that One True Self one way or another, ultimately. or is there. obviously who's positing that soma is the only material to be About the "whoa lol. me as an other" concept made scifily literal or anything

anyways that like, it creates that situation wherein one Can point & go "literally literally me" but also simultaneously one Can go "that's Not literally me arrrgh" or "that's also Not literally me, matter of factly"....simon's wrangling with the Othering of his One True Self, but he can also Know, should he choose to shift to that perspective, that all the Others who aren't alternate copies of him are all Another True Selves, An Other True Self even, though ofc as per the nature of not having a collective consciousness, he Doesn't Know the accurate whole of their psyches b/c he was not ever [literally them], but he doesn't need to to know they're just as [a whole psyche in there] as his own have been. original catherine with her fellow original crewmates being othered enough by them for the dehumanization of treating her worse, her being isolated, that indeed her being killed doesn't feel separate from all that by her or by anyone else, just an escalated extreme final fatal manifestation of it, b/c nobody ever liked her in the first place and then she became a (psyche Piloting a) body getting in the way of what one guy with amplified strength at that moment wanted from the project she made to let others' psyches keep existing in some way, which was deemed valuable enough by that guy to want to commandeer it and keep it at the bottom of the ocean versus risk a launch, regardless of how you the player think of the idea

and thinking of the way you can like, effectively befriend that boxy underwater little propellered Regular Simple Robot Helper that follows you around at some point, that is, of course it can't talk to you, it's definitely Just(tm) this not-ever-a-version of a human robot for practical tasks (dyspeptical tasks, clerical tasks, hysterical tasks) and like, imagine Its interiority, get invested, try to protect it, humanize it regardless....whereas with actual humans, and their psyches in a microchip, you can kill them for not perfectly delivering whatever you wanted even when that's not what other humans ever exist to do. then simon loses the Company he still could've Gotten From catherine, [guy who killed original catherine] didn't succeed in keeping the ark unlaunched, b/c that's what you go and do....but really just thinking of that Thread that feels so extremely relevant of like, catherine copy being simon's only option sure and working With him on this mission until we stay with the edition of him who realizes it didn't lead to his escape onto the ark, i.e. always being in relation to him in a manner of a direct practical teamup & a [take it or leave it] sole option for that anyways....but that in her original, human-bodied life, she was always "oh only a little bit" dehumanized by everyone such that she is very much aware of the way that's defined & limited her life, never had friends, i know i'm difficult to like; until that dehumanization escalated to the extreme of trying to hit her to stop her from seeing her project through, and just happening to kill her, and the fact that this seems to no one just a coincidental whoopsie of a fate just entirely disconnected from the way others always saw her and treated her as this Other among others, while other [psyche/soma]s of others who are clearly not Your Self get to have friends and not be isolated and feel hard to like forever and end up killed by coworkers

tl;dr like love a text just inviting plenty of interpretations and lenses and perspectives, ofc gonna look at it like whoa it's anarchy in there (political cats sense) where are the borders where you are thee self above thee other....soma providing that thinnest boundary of like, yeah that mf over there? there but for the [being in a different body, in a different place, with 7 seconds of negligibly different life experience] go ye. but also the usual boundary of "that person is in a different body in a different place with a different whole life but you're [that] to them and they're just as much a person and a self and an other as you are" like catherine center of the game to me

(* just remembered i had these asterisks: sure enjoying how the premise of amnesia games effectively creates Alternate Selves b/w the protagonist's present self, with however much missing time, and past selves whose goings on are completely relevant to the in media res situation you're also tackling while obtaining pieces of that past to priovide further context/info, and how this premise manifests for different stories each time; you've even got oswald like physically divided into Two Selves in a:amfp, though iirc it's not like, psychically equivalent, kinda "regular oswald & nefarious destroy the world duplicitous oswald" lmao, classic....uhh and shoutout to penumbra being similar ish in that the protagonist's story isn't want's relevant, he's trying to find out what happened to his dad and more broadly the like underground pocket world he enters for those answers? iirc....but that soma shares that amnemonic premise of [intro] [suddenly like ???] [having to navigate your present mission & figure out the past & your Missing time] but like, thee respective Lores don't overlap really, soma obviously starts present day and takes an even more obvious leap into a future / completely different location, rather than amnesia games being set in the past with missing time of like, idk months? to even just days, uhh supposedly like [forever] in justine but that's like, i dunno sure lol, the peak mysterious / withheld protagonist really, on purpose. while naturally there's also the fact that, technically, this simon we are following at the start of the game did not actually forget anything, and that's a fun distinction despite that it otherwise initially seems like the same [amnesia] premise....and that he did kind of ""forget"" things in that original simon lived however much longer before dying, that his scan then ofc didn't retroactively include. so once again it's like, well, in amnesia ppl have likewise kind of rewound to a Past Self before the missing [crucial context to your in media res misadventure] time, w/daniel (and justine) even doing this On Purpose, though as is the nature of the amnesia series, everyone regains enough of that missing info about their goings on anyways, though you the player are Not in a story of like "wow they did Exactly the same thing again and ended up in the same place anyways" and Do get to kinda choose who they are / indeed end up with some Alternate Self, potentially, despite there being plenty of room wherein like, it's not precisely, granularly laid out Exactly Who They Are at any point anyways. only just now getting extra amnemonic lore that yes daniel got all fucked up on vitae rituals b/c that's just what happens! and people are fairly horny for it! always a possible interpretation that he was high on vitae (okay one proffered pronunciation of "curriculum vitae" (which i was like lord i feel like i've gone "what tf is that" about before but what tf is that. turns out it's what CV stands for as your specifically educational resumé) does say "vitae" would, in that case, rhyme with "nigh." other sources are listing like a million different combinations of a million different ways to pronounce each syllable. also they gotta say it a way in the game but i forget. daniel's VA apparently being some chemistry teacher? just like alchemy. not what the pope said to do, weird science, it's my creation....) anyways! the psyches diverge, the bodies don't, unless they do (oswald....uhh the guy in the bunker. lambert :( ) like catching up with The Self again, encountering extreme examples of Othering and Dehumanizing and [you are just like only a soma to me] with various means and ends of acting thusly to get xyz results

[felassan]

EuroGamer: 'BioWare knew the deepest secrets of Dragon Age lore 20 years ago, and locked it away in an uber-plot doc'

Original creator David Gaider on how "some of the big mysteries are being solved".

Rest of post under a cut due to length and possible spoilers.

"As I write about the secrets hidden in Dragon Age's mysterious Fade, and as I uncover some of them playing Dragon Age: The Veilguard, one question keeps rising up in my mind. How much did BioWare know about future events when first developing the series more than 20 years ago? That's a long time, and back then BioWare didn't know there would be a second game, which is why Dragon Age: Origins has an elaborate and far-reaching epilogue. Why lay so much lore-track ahead of yourself if you don't think you'll ever get there? But look more closely at Origins and there are big clues suggesting BioWare did know about future Dragon Age events. There are obvious signs in the original game, such as establishing recurring themes like Old Gods and the Blight and Archdemons. But there's also Flemeth, Morrigan's witchy mother, who's intimately linked to events in the series now - more specifically: intimately linked to Solas. Does her existence mean Solas was known about back then too? There's only one person I can think of to answer this and it's David Gaider, the original creator of Dragon Age's world and lore. We've talked before, once in a podcast and once for a piece on the magic of fantasy maps, where we discussed the creation of Dragon Age's world. And much to my surprise, when I ask him what he and the BioWare team knew back then, he says they knew it all. "By the time we released Dragon Age: Origins, we were basically sure that it was one and done, but there was, back when we made the world, an overarching plan," he says. "The way I created the world was to seed plots in various parts of the world that could be part of a game, a single game, and then there was the overall uber-plot, which I didn't know for certain that we would ever get to but I had an understanding of how it all worked together. "A lot of that was in my head until we were starting Inquisition and the writers got a little bit impatient with my memory or lack thereof, so they pinned me down and dragged the uber-plot out of me. I'd talked about it, I'd hinted at it, but never really spelled out how it all connected, so they dragged it out of me, we put it into a master lore doc, the secret lore, which we had to hide from most of the team.""

"This uber-plot document was only viewable on a need-to-know basis, he says, and only around 20 people on the team had access to it - other senior writers mostly. And even though Gaider left the Dragon Age team after Inquisition, and then eight years ago BioWare altogether, meaning he didn't work on The Veilguard at all, he believes - by looking at the events in the new game - his uber-plot lore "has more or less held up". That's impressive. What's even more impressive, or exciting, is that back then he also envisaged a potential end state for the entire Dragon Age series - a point at which it would make no sense for the series to carry on. "I always had this dream of where it would all end, the very last plot," he says, "which I won't say because who knows, we could still end up there. But the idea that this uber-plot was this sort of biggest, finite... That the final thing you could do in this world that would break it was there as a 'maybe we would get to do that one day'... There was just the idea of certain big, world-shaking things that were seeded in that arc, some of which have already come to pass, like the return of Fen'Harel." You've read that correctly: the idea to have Fen'Harel, also known as the Dread Wolf, reappear, was seeded all the way back then, way before Inquisition - the game in which he does actually reappear. But the concept for Solas, as a character who was Fen'Harel in disguise, was a newer idea. "That spawned from a conversation I had with Patrick [Weekes] and a number of other writers," Gaider says, "as an idea of 'what if you had a villain that spent an entire game where he's actually in the party and you get to know him?' Now, the god version and his larger role in the plot, yes that was known, but not that he would be presented as a character named Solas." Fen'Harel being known about means the other elven gods were known about, which means all of that stuff Solas reveals about his godly siblings - that they're not gods at all but evil elven mages he locked away behind the Veil - was known about back then too. "Oh yeah," Gaider says. "Everything that Solas tells you [at the end of Inquisition DLC, Trespasser]: it's all part of that original uber-lore - that was all in our mind." But why have so much lore if you're not certain you'll get to ever realise it? Well, to create a believable illusion. By creating an "excess" of lore, as Gaider describes it, Origins made Thedas feel like an old and believable place. A place with history, rather than a Western set that was all facade and no substance."

"BioWare also did something canny with the lore it did relay then, too: it shared it through the voices of characters living in the world, making it inherently fallible. In doing this, Dragon Age veiled its truths behind biases. The church-like organisation of the Chantry proclaims one truth, while the elves and dwarves proclaim another. Sidenote: you can experience this yourself through different racial origin stories in Dragon Age: Origins. This way, there's no one, objective, irrefutable, truth. "To get the truth, you kind of have to pick between the lines," Gaider says. So even though elven legends are coming true through the existence of Solas and The Veilguard's antagonist gods, it doesn't mean that's the one and only truth. There's truth in what the Chantry teaches and what the dwarves say, he tells me, which ignites my curiosity intensely. BioWare has also been tricksy in how it's rubbed out the lore the further back in time you go. "In general, the further the history goes back, we always would purposefully obfuscate it more and more," Gaider says - "make it more biased and more untrue no matter who was talking, just so that the absolute truth was rarely knowable. I like that idea from a world standpoint, that the player always has to wonder and bring their own beliefs to it." It leads into a founding principle of Dragon Age, which is doubt - because without it, you can't have faith, a particularly important concept in the series. It's where the whole idea of the Chantry's Maker comes from and with it, the legend about the fabled Golden City - now the Black City - at the heart of the Fade. This is the very centre of the lore web, and, I imagine, it's close to the series endpoint Gaider imagined long ago. All secrets end there. Did Gaider know what was in the Black City when he laid down Origins' lore? That's the question - and it startles me how casually he answers this. "Oh, yeah," he says. "What was in the Black City: that's the uber-plot. I knew exactly. "Was it as detailed in the first draft of the world?" he goes on. "No. I had an idea of the early history because that's where I started making the world. So the things that were true early-early: I knew exactly what the Black City was and the idea of what the elves believed, and what humans believed vis-a-vis the Chantry - that was all settled on really early. Then I expanded the world and the uber-plot bubbled out of that.""

"Gaider shows me the original cosmology design document for Dragon Age: Origins as if to prove this - or rather for the game that would become DAO. The world was known as Peldea back then. I can't share this with you because I see it via a shared screen on a video call, and because Gaider doesn't want me to, mostly because the ideas are so old they're almost unrecognisable from what's in the series now. But I can tell you it's a document that's just over a page in length, and that there's a circular diagram at the top showing the world in the middle and the spirit realm ringed around it. And on that document is reference to the Chantry's beliefs about a God located in a citadel that can be found there. Gaider says BioWare knew about Fen'Harel (the Dread Wolf) 20 years ago when it was developing Dragon Age: Origins, and that he'd one day reappear. The Fade wasn't known as the Fade back then, either, but as the Dreaming, because it's the place people go when they dream - an idea that lives on still. And if that sounds familiar to any fans of The Sandman among you, it should. "I'd say The Sandman series was probably fairly prominently in my head," says Gaider. "I liked that amorphous geography that was born from the psyche of collective humanity. I'd say yes, if I was to point at something specifically, that's probably where the very first inspiration of it took root." It's a lot to take in, but it reinforces the admiration I have for Dragon Age. Just as I have when hearing about the creation of my other favourite fantasy worlds, such as A Song of Ice and Fire, I begin to understand the magnitude - and the deliberateness - of the plotting that went on. I wonder if one day the Dragon Age series will end in the way Gaider first imagined, albeit slightly altered by the many other pairs of hands shepherding it along now. What a curious feeling it must be to know, so many years in advance, where things might go. Where that end is, I don't know, but I do know we'll take a significant step towards it in The Veilguard. After all, we're coming into contact with gods who were there at the recorded beginning of it all. "Yeah - we have access to people who can tell us the truth from first-hand experience," Gaider says, "although again, it depends on what the writers did with it. But if they continued the tradition of Dragon Age, you never know for sure if Solas is telling you everything, or what you're learning is the entire truth. "But yes, some of the big mysteries are being solved. I mean, will they one day definitively tell you about the Maker? Will we crack the big mysteries of the world and just make them answered finally? And does that ruin one of the central precepts that Dragon Age is founded upon? Maybe," he says. "Ultimately, that lore, when you make it big and you hint at it and hint at it and hint at it, it becomes a Chekhov's Gun of sorts. Eventually you got to pony up.""

[source]

[prettyboykatsuki]

— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.

▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.

▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.

most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.

reader / tav is always gender neutral!

▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.

ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel

no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.

❈ ASTARION ;

Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.

Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.

And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.

You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.

Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.

In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.

You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.

Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.

"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.

"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"

Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.

Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.

Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.

"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."

"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."

"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."

He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.

"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."

❈ WYLL ;

it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.

For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.

You liked getting under his skin, after all.

You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills

Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.

It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.

He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.

Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.

Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.

It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.

And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.

Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.

"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."

He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.

"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."

You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."

You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."

It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.

"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.

"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."

You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.

"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"

"Sorry to disappoint."

He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.

Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.

❈ GALE ;

Gale is always the poet, never the muse.

He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.

But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.

When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.

He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.

When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.

It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.

But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.

Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.

Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.

It has a special effect on Gale.

In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.

"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"

"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."

The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.

He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.

He's glad he's alive. To feel you.

"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."

He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.

❈ SHADOWHEART ;

You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.

You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.

Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.

Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.

Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.

Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.

She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.

She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.

You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.

Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.

She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.

You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.

She loves you more than she cares to admit.

"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"

Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.

"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"

She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.

"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"

"I think it more often that I say it,"

"And you always think to call me that?"

"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"

Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.

"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.

"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."

You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"

❈ KARLACH ;

Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.

She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.

Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.

Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.

Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.

And you always explain them to her afterwards.

You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.

The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.

With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.

You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.

She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.

"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."

"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."

Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.

"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"

"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"

The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.

"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."

"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"

Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.

With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.

It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.

"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.

You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"

❈ LAE'ZEL ;

The Githyanki do not fall in love.

It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.

For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.

You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.

Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.

That you'd wait for her.

Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.

Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.

But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.

"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"

You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.

A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.

"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."

"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."

"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."

"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."

"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."

She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest

"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"

You return her smile in kind.

"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."

"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."

The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.

▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.

this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!

anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !

[ravengards-rogue]

WHAT SET YOU FREE, BROUGHT YOU TO ME BABY.

rdr2 men + short blurbs about their favorite sex positions.

ft. arthur morgan, john marston, javier escuella, and charles smith.

✧ tags : SPOILER HEAVY, fem + afab!reader, unprotected sex, light angst (in the horny post is crazy im sorry fdkjjkds), very gendered language, javier says one thing in spanish (thank u @nanamimizz), a little sprinkle of plot with each (and some canon divergency), john co-parents w abigail, otherwise just horny. 18+

✧ wc : about 1.4-8k each (6.3k total)

✧ a/n : sorry for making a multi character post for the cowboy game its cooking me to death. my john bias is showing rip. title is from rebel yell by billy idol but i listen to the bvb cover

sorry about charles and javiers but if i edit this anymore im going to level an entire city using hollow purple technique. please rb if you enjoyed i worked kind of hard on whatever this is.

sorry for . the THIRD repost of this i promise i wont after this. its just really bugging me. PLEASE

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ ARTHUR MORGAN + PRONE BONE ; 

It’s an odd feelin’ for Arthur. 

Wanting something, he means. Wanting anything as much as he wants you. He’s lived a less than quiet life up until now. And he ain’t the brightest, certainly, but living this kind of life teaches you many lessons. One of them being, it’s better not to covet anything. Coveting something you’re not entitled to, well—it’ll lead you places you wouldn’t want to go with a gun. 

Arthur has made the mistake of coveting love before, dreamed of a future so completely out of his reach he almost convinced himself it was possible. Dreamed of it so foolishly he’d even go visit a woman he very well ought to forget. It’s his problem, his burden to bear - always desiring outcomes unsuited to him. 

He’s just that sort of man he reckons. But he learned his lesson. He tries (tried?) to stay away from it after that. Tried not to pine too much for normalcy when such hopes had failed him twice. The loss of his child completely on his account and the loss of his love at the same fate. 

So, wanting you - well, he feels like the world's dullest fool. Really. How is it that Arthur had fallen in love with someone again? It had all just happened so quickly. You were another woman he’d saved from the O’Driscolls, though it wasn’t like you were no damsel. A lot of those men were dead by the time they arrived. That sort of perseverance would stick with you while you traveled together. Much like Sadie, you didn’t take well to housework - you liked to earn your keep. Though you’re not nearly so trigger happy. 

You’re quiet, thoughtful, well-read. Plus you’re good at making money. That’s why Dutch don't complain about you joining them, he figures. 

(Arthur tries not to pry into it too much at first, but he eventually learns that you’re gambling. Which is how you’re able to make such a fast turn around. A prim little lady like you makes for a fine poker player, and you love to play men out of their money. He thinks it’s one of the funniest and most interesting things about you. He can’t help but love you a little more for it. )

When the feelings in him start to stir, Arthur tries to overlook it. Arthur convinces himself, time and time again - that there’s no way he’ll grow more tender about you. Eventually, it’ll die down. You’re a decent woman is all, a kind one - who’s easy for him to love and even easier for him to confide in. In your time together, you often come to Arthur and you always seem to have some profound wisdom he is so sorely lacking. Someone easy to love, who does not expect much from Arthur at all. It’s only natural a lonely, covetous man like him would start to dream about you. He tells himself, it will pass eventually. Should he simply let it run by him, it will pass. But Arthurs a fool, you’ll remember. 

 Of course, by the time he understood all that - he already loved you enough that he couldn’t bear it. It was already too late and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. Especially not while everything changed around him. 

So, Arthur is undoubtedly a fool, but he’s lucky. He felt divinely blessed when you’d returned his feelings for him so politely. A coy little smile on your face, a laugh like you thought he was silly for being doubtful. Arthur tried to explain himself but you wouldn’t hear a word of it. Maybe that’s another thing he loves so much about you. There’s nothing he ever needs to explain. 

In any case, all Arthur seems to do lately is want you. Wants you when it’s inconvenient. Wants you before he wants liquor or a cigarette or some other vice. Any time anything goes wrong, you’re the first thing his mind can conjure up for relief. That pretty smile and that self-assured way of living. It’s hard to get time alone in camp. And Arthur is a man in love, so any touch could be enough to set him on fire. Last week you hugged his waist a little before giving him a kiss goodbye and he had to listen to you laugh yourself into a fit as he waited for…little Arthur to settle down. 

He don’t get many chances to be with you. Lay with you in that way that grown folk in love do. Though, if the two of you book it somewhere for a few days - the camp knows better not to ask where you’ve been. But it’s not often you get to really be together, where it’s peaceful to do that. Someone’s always hounding one of you to do something. 

Arthur is a lucky man though, like he said. Today he had time. Today he’s alone with you in a beat up little saloon and today he gets to do as he likes. He gets to be greedy. And it’s an odd feeling for him, really, to want something so bad he disregards everything else in the world for a little while. 

Feeling you, though - absolves the guilt for wanting. He’d be stupid to want you any less desperately. 

Arthur’s favorite way to have you is on your stomach. Laid flat, just barely pushed up against him as he fucks you deep. You’ll fuck like rabbits for a little while and Arthur will wear you out just like this, maneuvering you until you’re pinned all underneath his weight. You lose any fight you might have, too exhausted to worry yourself with pleasing him - and when you’re like that, you let Arthur take care of you. 

(He really ain’t talented at much, but he’s good with his hands. Being dexterous is part of being a talented shot. When Arthur has the time to spread you sweet in his lap and make you cum all over his fingers, he does so for as long as he can. At least until you beg him so sweetly otherwise. The same hands, soiled with gunsmoke, look so good so deep in you. At least in his eyes.)

Wet and pliable and helpless. Arthur loves you like that. He knows, he knows you’re anything but - but he’d be damned to pretend this don’t feel best. Tight, wet cunt so welcoming from all the pleasure he’s ripped out of you. Your bodies pressed together, your heartbeat pulsing through your skin. All sticky, honeyed need and animal desire as Arthur lets all of him sink on top of you. His heavy, lumbering form crushing you in - trapping you somewhere you can’t run from him. The curve of your spine pushed against his chest, ticklish. 

Every inch of his body that so wholly wants for you, Arthur aches to make you feel. Burn it in you lest anything happens that risks your forgetting. 

He can feel his hips meet your ass, backside squished against him - desperate for deeper friction. Whining. You’re whining to him so pretty, a pillow pushed underneath you to give friction to needy clit. 

Arthur can feel how much you want more. Maybe Arthur is greedy, but he likes that look much better on you. Your pussy is sucking him in so tight, silken walls pulsing with every shallow little measured thrust. Arthur lets his arm wrap around your neck, your face pressing into his bicep. You moan again and he laughs. 

“Arthur,” Your words come out in a messy slur. He lets his scruffy face press against your neck, a kiss behind your ear. He wants to kiss you all over. There’s not enough hours in the day. “Oh, god, Arthur,” 

“Still feels good, then, I’m guessin’,” 

“Shut up,” You huff and press your cheek into his arm. He doesn’t bother stifling his laugh. “Still feels…big. Stretchin’ me out—hicc—so much,” 

You really don’t try to rile him up - but you do a damn good job of it anyway. He groans, grunts as he pulls back and pistons himself in you. A gesture half-way between a kiss and the warning shot of a gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes, noisy and vulgar. Arthur don’t pay it much mind. He laughs against your shoulder.

“One of these days, that moutha’ yours is gonna get me in real trouble.” 

You giggle back at him 

“What kinda trouble is that now?” 

Even from your side glance, you’ve got that lovely little smile on you. Fuckdrunk and ingratiating, like you know he’s wrapped so tight around your fingers. And he is, like nothing else in the world could have him. A wave of possession curls up over Arthur, makes him press more of himself into you. Onto you. Another deep push of his cock, sliding against the tenderest parts of you. Staking some silent desire in you. He wants and wants and wants, and hopes that whatevers above him can forgive him for making the same mistake thrice. 

“Dunno,” Arthur comments, teeth grazing your shoulder and kissing the indentations “Got our whole lives together to find out, I reckon.” 

“I’ll hold you to it, Mister.” 

Arthur laughs. “Hope you do, Miss.” 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ JOHN MARSTON + COWGIRL ;

John doesn’t say that he loves you lightly. 

Hardly a thing he says can be said that way. Could never afford too. In an alternate universe where nothing goes wrong in his life, maybe - but he has a hard time picturing what the hell that’d look like. A version of himself so untainted, without all of the violence and blood and gunsmoke? Foreign. John can’t picture it worth a damn. 

Who John is without a deadbeat father and a dead Ma is somewhere far beyond his reach. Ain’t nothing about his life, at any point, lighthearted. 

On top of all that mess, he’s got a boy at age four with a woman he ain’t married too. And that relationship is always on rocky waters, even though John’s decided to do right by his own flesh and blood sometime ago. Most things in the world he should feel good about he doesn’t, and most things he should understand render him clueless. He’s a mess on multiple accounts, and he still doesn’t know how exactly he’s meant to approach this life of his. He knows what he should do, but nothing about how to do it. 

John doesn’t come to love you easily ‘cause he wouldn’t know easy love if it hit him in his face. Quickly and painfully, but not easily. 

Your return to the gang was an odd one. You were an old presence and your disappearance was an even older story. John thought he’d never gonna see you again for sure. You’d been a part of the gang back long before all of the nonsense that took place in Blackwater and you left about the time Arthur’s boy died. John don’t remember why you left exactly. He thinks it was a fight with Hosea, of all things.

 Dutch weren't too happy about it neither, but Dutch back then didn’t make a show. 

So you left, and John buried every feeling he ever harbored. You found all them again up in Colter, where you’d been living out your days lately. According to you, in the middle of riding, you thought you’d heard Arthur. So, somewhat recklessly, you went chasing him. Didn’t matter if he was just something your mind conjured. According to you, if it was him, it was at least worth checking to make sure. You’d reunited with Arthur and after some tears, he rode with you back to camp. 

Upon your return, the gang welcomed you with open arms. 

You’d done a lot in your time alone.You spent most of that time just like that, a ghost wanderin’ the planes. You weren’t gonna stay with ‘em, but Arthur insisted and Hosea did too. That wasn’t enough to compel, so John was last to chip in. You should stay, at least until Valentine. 

(Silently he thought, you should stay so John can trace memories of you. It was so long ago, he should’ve forgotten all of it. You were a year older than John and always on his ass but easy for him to talk to. Didn’t fuss over his failures. You just barely grew into your womanhood when you set your sights on running away. You wanted more than this life, and John never really forgave you for it. His first heartbreak, maybe - but it’s all too blurry for that. 

You understood him though better than anyone, and one day you were gone. Nothing’s really the same.) 

You changed tremendously and not at all. He missed you. God, did he ever. Missed you a long time. Didn’t realize how much until you came back and everything in him felt right again. Your return stirred up old feelings and everyone noticed. He wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, but he really wasn’t trying to fall back into anything with you. Not how he did. 

Just like you did back then, you read John like an open book. And just like he did back then, he loved you all too helplessly for it.  It was just all too easy again, to be with you. 

You stayed out of the way at first, for the sake of his family. 

But, John ain’t a half-decent man even when he’s trying to be. So he set himself on being with you. It wasn’t easy - most things with him aren’t as you’ll see.  Having you around again straightened what was left of his common sense, at least. He told Abigail before telling you. He figured you wouldn’t even reply unless that was all out of the way. That turned out as well as you’d expect.

 It was settled between the two of you thereafter. He’s lucky she didn’t toss him into the street. 

Everything works out in a way. As best they can between broken people. You make peace with each other. His boy loves you like a third parent (you’re better with him than John is). Abigail commends you for straightening out such a worthless man though she’s a little melancholy.  John just tries to stay out of the way. You’ll be together in the end. There’s a plan with the five of you. 

But until it all falls apart, he doesn’t get all that much time with you. 

There’s moments like tonight, though. Rare ones. Together out robbin’, cooped out some place in the woods where no one is around. A place so shaded by nightfall that John can absolve himself of every sin he’s ever committed in his life and pray at the altar between your hips. John is convinced he might find worship like he’s always hearing about there whenever he touches you, the marred skin of his hands and knuckles reading the scripture of your body with careful precision. 

You might turn him into a literate man yet. 

John glances up at you. Only the light of the fire and the moonlight there to accompany as he watches you over him. You’re beautiful. John couldn’t picture a single thing more perfect in his life. 

Your hands against his bare chest, nails digging into the flesh as you lean forward. Your palm dug into the dirt, John finds his own hands rested at your hips. John looks at you awe-struck, cock twitching at the mere sight. His heart settles in his throat, but he’s calm all at the same time. With you, he forgets. All of it. The worst of himself. 

Bare naked and so close, he watches your face as you strain. You feel soft. Every inch of you in comparison to him is. A bead of sweat slides down the valley of your breasts. John cranes his neck up to catch it with his tongue, licking a stripe up to your neck - letting his teeth sink into the space between your jaw and neck. You want to make it last and John doesn’t blame you. It’s so rare you get to have each other so unrestrained. John can feel all the ways you want him, can see it in your face - all pinched with need. You’re holding yourself back, trying to get it to last as long as the night will allow. It’s cute in a way.

It’s different than how he’s used to seein’ you, all cocky or otherwise. You’re needy like this. Just needy. His stomach turns with lust, jolting through him like a strike of lightning. His cock twitches against your folds, sliding against them. Pure admiration watching the sticky mess of his pre-cum and your own arousal mix together and smear on your mound. You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, faint and tender as you fall forward just a little. John laughs against your neck. 

“Darlin’,” He says with a huff. Not malice. Something akin to bliss, where he can rarely afford it “Have I done something to piss you off today?” 

You pick yourself up and look down at him and frown. John kisses the corner of your mouth, resisting some crude desire to fuck up into you. 

“Just,” You grunt as the tip of his cock passes over your throbbing clit, your whole body wracking to a shiver. John looks awed. “Pent up. Goddamn it,” 

John figures it out quickly after that. It’s this part of it he likes. The proximity. The closeness. Feeling the tremble in your hands as they struggle to keep up right, muscles strained in your forearms. Being able to hold you, to keep the pace or let you take the lead. The clear view of your face as pleasure travels up through your spine and melts into you. He grabs your hips, the fat dimpling underneath his fingers as he moves you along. He can’t wait. You don’t bother to protest seeing John can’t seem to bear it anymore. You collapse into his chest, your tits pushed flat against his pecs.

His cock throbs near painfully, sliding against your soft cunt before finding himself lined with you. He thinks to himself that it’s this he was looking for, as he tucks your face against his neck and lets his tip stretch you out slowly. Such a vice like grip, stretching - resisting him like your whole body can’t anticipate the sensation of fullness. You gasp against his throat. 

“John,”  

What a sweet sound from your mouth, even sweeter as he bucks himself up. Keeps you steady and lets his cock stretch you full, feel you deep. “That’s right, my angel. Didn’t think you’d remember my name when you’re all worked up like this.” 

“You’re,” You gasp and John thrusts, thrusts hard until he’s buried to the hilt. You shudder, walls pulsing around him as he bottoms out and John laughs like the terrible man he is. He fucks you again, over and over - a wicked little smile watching “Awful. Just awful, John Marston,” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” He hums against your mouth as his hand snakes between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit. “Wonder what kinda woman that makes you,” 

“A foolish one,” 

John laughs. 

“I sure do love you for it,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆JAVIER ESCUELLA + SIDEWAYS ;

Javier hasn’t thought about much other than surviving. 

It’s been like that. Been like that for a while, probably much longer than he cares to admit. He’s sure any sane man would suffer the same plight if they lead the same life. Anything but survival is little more than a pipe-dream, so Javier tries not to go for anything too strongly. In that aspect he’s like many of the members of the gang he’s in, perhaps that’s why he sticks to them. There’s that phrase Hosea’s always saying - that misery loves company. Javier will take any decent company he can get.  He’s desperate for it just like he’s desperate for most things - inwardly, silently. 

Some of that desperation may be symptomatic of who he is. After he killed a man in a crime of passion for a woman he loved and ran from a government who would sooner exile him than change, Javier decided to not dream anymore. Every revolutionary who dreams too hopefully pays the price in blood.

(Javier thinks there’s probably nothing in the world as true as this. A form of gospel. He remembers the first dream he ever had after his uncle passed. Not a nightmare but a dream. He remembers the exact feeling of waking up, cold and confused. What is a dream, except a memento of survivor's guilt that loyal people cling onto fruitlessly. When hope starts to feel like a debt he’s going to waste his life paying back, Javier loses sight of everything. The beginning of the end in some way.) 

His mind doesn’t occupy itself with anything bigger than that. Since Dutch found him starving, there was never a desire to try and live off aspirations. He pays his penance with loyalty and honor. Practices some form of humility and tries, not too desperately, to carve a place for him to fit. All without drawing too much attention or caring too much. If you ignore the bleeding in his fingers, his penchant for knives over guns, and his refusal to talk too long about the place he comes from - it’s nearly believable that none of it matters. 

Except loyalty. All Javier honors is that. It’s the only thing he has some part in choosing, so he choses it every time. Living like that didn’t make any difference to him. He was surrounded by mostly decent people. He didn’t hate the life he was living. 

It wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. His directionless-ness, his floating. Hadn’t since he joined the gang. At least not to anyone but him. He didn’t know what he’s meant to do or if he was meant to proceed with this forever. He was (is)  loyal to Dutch. To the gang. 

He hadn’t thought much about what comes after. 

And it didn’t matter until he met you

He’d sworn off love after seeing where it got him, at least until he could love more dispassionately. When the women bring you back from their outing from Valentine and beg Dutch to let you stay, Javier doesn’t think much of it all. He thinks you’re pretty, if it counts for anything. But he doesn’t let himself linger on you too long. 

But that’s the sequence with you two, really. The whole time.  He doesn’t linger until he does. It doesn't matter until it does. He doesn’t think about you until it’s all he can think about. 

You go for him first. And it’s in little, unimportant ways that might not mean shit to you but mean a whole lot to him. You have some kind of tenderness about you that you wear deep, runs through your blood like love ran through his once long ago. Some softness he can’t really measure with his own. It’s not that that gets him. It’s that sometimes you look at Javier like he's … someone you want to see. He forgot what that was like all together. It felt foreign to him the first time it happened. Seeing how you light up when Javier is around. 

You wanted to see him. You noticed that he’s gone. If he sang by the campfire - you’d sit by him and listen.  If he was out in the trees keeping guard, he’d hear the soft call of your voice to Grimshaw ask Where’s Javier? And sometimes the girls will make fun of you - but you wouldn’t deny anything they said. It’s so small and ordinary. He would’ve never considered himself simple before meeting you. Nothing is simple. Nothing. 

(But then, Javier thinks of the kinds of songs he sings and the way he takes care of himself and the clothes he wears and maybe Javier has some kind of affinity for preciousness that explains all of it.) 

When Javier confesses his feelings for you - he finds the affair to be like most things between you. Ordinary love, not really between outlaws but people. It’s up against a tree while you share a drink and he’s looking at the curve of your mouth and the plum color Karen’s so kindly put on you. And his head fills with kissing you so he does. A breathless confession between alcohol stains and the feeling of your hands curled in the lapels of his suit. 

From there, Javier is your lover. He’s not interested in the business of secrets, but he tries not to let it show too much. Not that he doesn’t want to. He wants to show you off more than anything - at least some part of him does. But the other part wants to keep you away from prying eyes, keep his love for you only where the both of you can see. If he could keep that pretty lovestruck face you make all to himself forever he would. 

When he gets a chance to whisk you away from everything, Javier jumps at the chance. Not often, but Javier makes time for you. Makes time to indulge in love he thought he’d  never find again. 

That’s why he’s here with you in the middle of nowhere, a ghost town where no one knows you.. A reserved room with a bed and lowlights all to yourselves. 

Javier can’t keep his hands to himself and he doubts you expect him too. 

For Javier, this sense of proximity is what intoxicates him most. The warmth of your bare skin in the slivers of yourself exposed. Javier is fond of finding you like this after a long day of horse riding. Of sneaking touches to your waist as you push back against him to sleep, only to find his desire for you - laid clearly. He likes hearing you whimper feeling his length poke against your back, the embarrassment when it dawns on you that he wants you after all. Always surprised, even though Javier tells you it so often. Whispers it along your neck and shoulders whenever you’re at camp together.

You like the feeling of his hands so Javier always starts with them. He squeezes your hips. Planes his palms over your chest before squeezing your chest, pushing the fat between his fingers. You like the way  they look when they grope you, his chin resting against your shoulder as you spoon. In the lowlights of a cheap hotel - Javier gets the perfect view of your silhouette. Your body is sensitive over the fabric of your gown, heat prickling through you. 

Javier who is always so gentle with you, rouses so deep listening to your whining as he explores your body. The suffocating closeness of a single bed intoxicates him. 

“Javier,” Your voice is sweet and thin. Plays in Javier’s head like music and makes his mouth curl up into a catlike grin as you push back on him.  You look slightly over your shoulder, lips pushed into a pout. “Please,” 

He tugs at the fabric of your nightgown. The top half pulls haphazard underneath your tits, nipples perky and sensitive to touch while the skirt pools at your waist. What gets Javier like this is the desperation. Wanting so much but not being able to look too long. A way for you to mirror him, it’s a matter of possession. In some stupid way. Bunching your clothes up, pushing the fabric of your panties to one side, letting his arm wrap around your waist to touch and tease.  All of these are imprints of his longing, tucked faithful into your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.

His cock twitches as it pushes past your folds with finality, your hands curling up at your sides.  You whimper softly, let your cheek rest against the sheets as Javier takes you on your side. Terribly close, you fuss as you feel him slide every inch into you slow, your hands reaching back for purchase. It’s the fit of you against him so perfect, the silent strokes of intimacy, the hush-hush giggles between the sheets that Javier loves most about fucking you like this. Too enamored with you to look too closely, he lets his eyes flutter closed. He could get drunk just being in your space. 

He carves out space for himself inside of you, feels your cunt accommodate for him like it loves him. A feverishness breaks out as his forehead rests on the space between your shoulders, an uncharacteristic whiny quality in his words. 

“Ser mío,” Javier says - as a reflection of what he really wants, to belong only to you. “Belong to me.” 

Darling as you always are, you nod softly. 

“All yours, Javier,” You whimper, finding his hand. “Forever,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ CHARLES SMITH + MATING PRESS ; 

Wandering. 

He’s been doing it his whole life. Not something he’s proud of. Or ashamed of either, really. Just how things have gone for him until now. Charles doesn’t think his life has been any better or any worse than anyone else's. At least not when he weighs it with the same kind of pragmatism he does most things. It’s been a hard life, and a miserable one in so many ways. Still, it’s not something Charles is too keen to dwell on. 

There’s just something thematic about loss in Charles' life in a way he finds completely unpleasant. It’s more constant than anything. Loss of his home, loss of his mother, loss of his father in an attempt to find what’s best for him. It’s some overarching message that hangs over his head like a shadow. Everywhere he goes, trying to rectify his own solitude seems to come back to him. It doesn’t help that it’s an unfair world to start with, and would’ve been if he had just been black or just been native. But Charles is both, and has lived a life that reflects that specific injustice thoroughly. 

There’s not really anything Charles can do about it, at its baseline. When he left his father, the name of the game had simply been survival. He was well-equipped enough for that at least. But after survival comes trying to live and trying to live isn’t something so simple. Jumping in and out of gangs who thought they could get away with slighting him or generally being surrounded by unpleasant people. Trying to find something in pages of book and scripture, or in the way water ripples when it rains. 

He’s never felt any one way towards the gang. Even when he joined them all the way back in the Grizzlies. Lost in the cold, they’d crossed paths as Charles was out hunting. A lot of it feels like a blur. Of all the folks he’s met in his travels though, Dutch treats him fair and the rest of them (or most of them) are decent, honest folk. Charles stays in the Van Der Linde gang for such simple reasons as trying to stay alive and be somewhere that isn’t actively hostile towards him. He’s a good gunman, and a better fighter. The inner workings of gang politics and forging connection isn’t at the forefront of his mind, with the exception of the kindest few. 

The Van Der Linde gang is just a place where he can figure out what his purpose is meant to be, even if he doesn’t find it there. He’s never expecting anything to come out from his loyalties to it. 

Of all the things Charles expects of his life in the Van Der Linde gang, love is at the very bottom of the list. 

Maybe it’s about time he stops being surprised by these things happening to him one or way another.

 You were a member of the gang far before him, and someone Charles took to quickly. You’d joined the gang not too long after John from what Arthur tells him. Though the brunette speaks about you more fondly than he does his brother. A problem child at the start, according to Arthur - always getting into all sorts of trouble. Something you seemingly feel embarrassed about now and refuse to bring up. Charles has a hard time picturing it having only known you as you are. 

The woman you’ve grown into is someone else completely, and Charles sees that in you all the time. Compassionate like Hosea but charismatic like Dutch, and clever. And you’re beautiful, too, though Charles feels a little shallow admitting that’s part of what drew you into him. 

It wasn’t Charles that approached you first. You were the one who spoke to him, as often as you thought necessary but never in a way he found invasive. He doesn’t know what it is exactly about you that charms him near instantly. You’re enigmatic to a fault. It’s like you always know exactly what to say and exactly when to say it. Even more than that, you’re a terribly pleasant person to be around. Subtly warm and free of assumptions. When Charles talks to you about anything, you listen without making him feel like it’s any sort of burden to you. You don’t pry, don’t make missteps. Treat him fair, and then some. 

It’s unbearably simple, just how quickly and how easily he comes to adore you.  And, in some ways, Charles knows better than to believe that his purpose is loving someone. There’s more to it than that, surely - after everything. 

But then, he’ll watch you do something. Watch you do some kind of menial work that he could do for you instead. Thinks of skinning animals for new clothes and chopping wood and rubbing the soap off of you and all of a sudden it makes him feel anchored. Everything he could do for you. You anchor Charles easily, with a wispy smile. Make him want to find purpose in life with you. He never wants to be somewhere you’re not. 

He confesses it to you just like that, and like you do with most things - you accept and reciprocate without making too much of a fuss. 

For Charles, making love is an extension of wanting to ground himself in you. A distant siren song - the intersection of lust and bone deep adoration. Like most things, you’re the one to approach first every time. A soft hand on his forearm, a whisper that you want him. It’s with ease that he draws you away. Drags from you camp during nightfall with his horse and blankets and picks a spot with the perfect view of the stars. 

Charles watches you under the glow of moonlight, his vision adjusting to you easily. Naked underneath him, laid on your back with your legs folded at your knees - heaving deep breaths. He can see the sweat beading down your skin, your chest rising and falling - and the perfect view of your pussy. His hands and mouth are wet as you breathe out. He finds himself smiling at you, his own erection pressed against your thigh, pre-cum leaking out in a mesmerized haze. 

You lift your hands up and he leans down, surprised as you wrap them around his neck and pull him closer to you. Your mouths meet like that, and Charles laughs against your lips as you kiss him so eagerly. You blink at him, pretty. You’re always prettier than he remembers you being the last time he looks. 

“Charles,” You frown at him. “It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting,” 

He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, my love. I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“Well, I’m fine with it,” You repeat, almost petulant. Charles frowns. “‘Sides, it ain’t my first time taking you, you know?” 

“Well, I’m not fine with it.” 

You pout, looking at him all endeared. Charles couldn’t help but love you even if he tried. “You ain’t gonna hurt me. C’mon. Please?” 

“Please, what?” 

You look at him aghast before breaking out into a faux-scandalized giggle. “Now you—please fuck me. Pretty, please.” 

Charles feels something tickling against his spine hearing you say it. He couldn’t imagine getting sick of you in his whole life.  “Yeah, that’s good to hear.” 

You make an indignant noise but it’s silenced quickly as Charles positions himself against your entrance. He has plenty of discipline when it comes to matters like these, but right now - he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. Not nearly enough patience to wait. He lets his hands go up underneath your knees just to have something to hold onto. 

You make a little gasp as the tip of his cock pushes into you. Your walls are so soft, likely after all the orgasms he’d given you prior. You stop him in a shocked gasp, and Charles immediately readies himself to pull out. As if sensing his hesitance, you shake your head. 

“Charles,” You gasp, the words caught in your throat and hoarse “Deep. Want it deep,” 

His abdomen tightens, cocking twitching hard at your words. He agrees silently to your desires. 

When it comes to sex, there’s very little Charles dislikes.

But this is his favorite. He’s simple but no other position lets him see you so close. He likes the way your eyes widen as he pushes up underneath your knees and folds you underneath his weight. How you look pinned down under him, the perfect view of your eyes rolling back into your head and the proximity from your face to his. He lets his cock stretch you out slowly, throbbing each time your nails dig desperately into arms trying to keep your composure. Fuck you feel so tight like that. Soft pussy, dripping and sticky. You suck him in relentlessly, and Charles groans as he bottoms out. You take every inch of him so well. So perfect like the rest of you. 

Your eyes flutter open as he stays there, buried in you in complete bliss. You’re dazed. 

“Kiss?” 

Surprise followed by adoration, he abides by your request easily. Overwhelmed with it as he presses a chaste peck to your mouth, he laughs. “As many as you want.”

Anything you want, Charles thinks, he would give to you. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Popular with the Ladies

SUMMARY: You discover that the demon brothers went to The Fall to have some kind of brothers night through photos posted on Devilgram. Both in Asmodeus's account and other demons’s accounts. Especially succubuses. What will they do when you seem uncomfortable or even upset about this?

CHARACTERS: Demon Brothers (Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeus; Beelzebub & Belphegor)

TAGS: Fluff; Fem!Reader (just for the context of the idea); Comfort

WARNING: Possible Spoilers for the Devilgram story from the "Popular with the Ladies" card

WORD COUNT: An average of 720 words per character.

COMMENTS: So, I got the "Popular with the Ladies" card in Nightmare and read the Devilgram story, and I was expecting more. So I was slightly disappointed, and that's why I decided to write what I would have liked to have read.

CONTEXT: This takes place in the Nightbringer timeline. Because I don't believe they would leave MC at home alone while they have fun.

You were in your bedroom in Cocytus Hall, scrolling through Devilgram when you started seeing those pictures. Photos of the brothers surrounded by succubus, some of the accounts of these same succubus with one of them at their side. In the case of Mammon and Asmo, the photos with them were almost as if they were friends with the succubus. In Beel's case, he looked unbothered by the photo. In Levi's case, he looked a little uncomfortable, but there were still some photos of succubus with him. In Satan's case, he didn't seem to pay any attention to the photos being taken of him. In Belphie's case, there were photos of him sleeping on the shoulders of two or three different succubus. But there were practically no photos of Lucifer other than those that his brothers took with him.

Solomon told you that if you talk to them and you wanted a way to find out if they flirted back or not, he had a crystal ball that could show you what really happened. But to do so, they would have to touch the ball as a kind of consent to show the images.

The next day, at RAD, you run into each of them, as usual. But this time you're not so happy to see them.

“Good morning, (Y/N).” Lucifer greets you as always. You greet him back, slightly less excited to see him than usual. “Is there something wrong?”

You stay silent for a moment, until you tell him that you saw the photos on Devilgram that showed he was in The Fall last night.

“Oh, that. Yes, Asmodeus has wanted to do this again for a long time. But I honestly don't know to what extent he genuinely wanted to have fun with his brothers or just wanted to prove that he was the most popular of us all. I'm sorry we didn't invite you but, you see, it was a brothers' night, like Asmodeus said. Don't worry, we will certainly invite you to any other occasion.”

However, this ended up not changing your mood much.

“Hmm... Not being invited isn't the problem then?” he thinks for a moment. “What did you see in those photos?”

You say that, specifically with him you didn't see anything much, but with the others you saw a lot of photos of them with succubus. And you say that if that was happening to them, it certainly would have happened to Lucifer too.

He laughs and smirk. “So you're jealous. I can't deny that you look very cute like this. So I'm going to appreciate it a little more.”

“But you don’t need to worry about me. And to reassure you, no one approached me. Nobody ever does. In addition to knowing that I have an intimidating presence, I believe everyone knows that such an effort will not be worth it. After all, according to Asmo's own words: ‘You can't flirt with someone when you know their heart will always belong to someone else, can you?’ Even though at the time he said that, he and Beel were referring to Lord Diavolo to tease me. But believe me when I say that, apart from jokes, this statement undoubtedly refers to you.”

He holds your hand.

“You have absolutely nothing to worry about, my love. I am only yours like you are only mine, and no succubus has the slightest chance of changing that.” he kisses the back of your hand. And then gets closer to your face, maybe even your ear. “And I can prove it to you tonight if you want.”

You accept this proposal, but once back in Cocytus Hall, you tease him, saying he can prove it to you through the crystal ball. Solomon was out somewhere.

Lucifer looks at you with a dangerous smirk. “Very well then. If that reassures you more than my word.” He was looking at you with those sharp half-closed eyes.

Through the crystal ball you see what Lucifer described before. He was on a couch with Asmo and Beel when they started talking about no one approaching him.

“True. I don't remember ever having person after persons come up to flirt with me like the rest of you.” Lucifer says.

“Huh, I wonder why...” Asmo comments.

“Because Lucifer's only interested in Lord Diavolo.” Beel answers.

“Don't make it sound weird.” Lucifer replied.

“Ooh, yes! I know what you mean!” Asmo continues “You can't flirt with someone when you know their heart will always belong to someone else, can you?”

“Nope, you sure can't.”

“Now hold on a second!” Lucifer returns and then says smugly. “You're only mentioning Diavolo because you don't want to talk about the person you're truly thinking about.” The other two widen their eyes as if he had caught them. “What you said was true, Asmo. But that statement does not apply to Diavolo. And you both know it.” Beel and Asmo don't say anything. “What's wrong?” Lucifer says with a smirk. “Was it because I mentioned her?”

Asmo quickly changes the conversation and you can tell that both he and Beel seem to feel slightly guilty. The crystal ball becomes opaque again.

“You should know by now that I wouldn't lie to you.” Lucifer tells you, looking you in the eyes, and with that smug face that indicated trouble for you. “Especially on this matter. I thought I already taught you that. But perhaps I was too... soft...”

“Hey (Y/N)!” Mammon greets you as always. You greet him back, slightly less excited to see him than usual. “Yo, what's up? Where is the excitement of seeing the Great Mammon once again?”

You look at him, grumpily.

“It wasn't me, I promise.”

You ask what he ‘didn't do’.

“I don't know, but I don't like the way you're looking at me.”

You take your D.D.D. out of your pocket and show him some of the photos of him with succubus as if the two of them were really close or something. Mammon PANICS!

“Wa-wa-wA-WA-WAIT!!! THAT IS NOTHING I SWEAR! THEY JUST ASKED ME TO TAKE A PHOTO WITH THEM! I DON'T KNOW THEM! THAT’S JUST A PHOTO I SWEAR! I DIDN'T THINK THIS-!!!”

You turn your back on him.

“NO! No! Please believe me. This is just somethin’ I've always done. And it started to happen more after I started my modelin’ part-times. It's just fan photos and stuff.” You comment that it didn't seem that casual. “Okay, maybe I was a little happier after drinking a little, but that's it, I swear!”

You took just one step forward, in the opposite direction to Mammon who was behind you, when you feel two arms hugging your legs. Fortunately, not in a way that would make you lose your balance.

“NO! No! Please! I love you! Only you! These are just pictures, I swear. I will never do that again.” If you look down, you'll see his face looking up at you like the saddest puppy in the world.

You then remember Solomon's crystal ball and tell Mammon about it. He agrees to show you what happened without thinking twice.

Back at Cocytus Hall, Solomon was still out somewhere and you and Mammon are alone in your bedroom.

Through the crystal ball you see Mammon sitting on one of The Fall's couches with two succubus, one on each side of him. And he seems to be having fun. You look at him upset and he doesn't take his worriedly look away from the crystal ball. He can't look you in the eye, but it's like he's waiting for something.

He takes the photos you saw with them. Until one of them started hugging him and kissing his cheek. Mammon pushes her away from him with his arm and you can see him upset. “OI! What do ya think you're doin’?!”

The two get even closer to him. “Aww, come on~ I'm sure even the Great Mammon likes some variety~” says one of the succubus

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You're not going to say that you just like to have fun with that dull human, are you~?” says the other succubus “We could do much-”

Mammon gets up abruptly and turns to them still sitting on the couch. “Ya mention my human one more time like that and ya’ll regret it! Get off my couch!”

They try to soften him up a little more, but that only irritates him even more. He threatened them once again to leave and they sulked away. And the crystal ball becomes opaque again.

“Ya see?!” Mammon says to you. “I told ya nothin’ happened! They even irritated me and I sent them away. Nobody talks about ya like that! You are my human. My one and only (Y/N). And I am your first. Your favorite demon. I would never-”

You interrupt him with a kiss, and he reciprocates with all the love and passion he has for you, hugging you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I love you. No matter who I'm at a party with, I belong to no one. But you. Ya ear me?... So... can we continue? I really missed you last night.”

“Good morning (Y/N).” Levi greets you with a smile, but you greet him back slightly less excited than usual. “Oh, what’s wrong? Did I do something? I did something didn't I?” he said worriedly. “I'm so stupid I don't even know what I did.”

Stopping him from continuing his self-deprecating spiral, you tell him that you saw the photos of him with succubus at The Fall last night on Devilgram. And he panics! More than it already did.

“WHAT?! Tha-that wasn’t me! They wanted to take photos and I couldn't say no. I didn't want to be rude so I accepted. I was so stressed! Mammon and Asmo tricked me! I didn’t know what to do. I was so uncomfortable. I just wanted to go back home, to my games, to my manga. I so wish you were there so I could cling onto you. NO! WAIT! Forget the last part!”

You knew there was a really good chance he was telling the truth. Any other hypothesis would make no sense. But even so, you wanted to test Solomon's crystal ball and you tell Levi about it.

He stutters, but ends up agreeing with as much confidence as he could find in himself, although it wasn't much.

Back at Cocytus Hall, Solomon was still out somewhere and you and Levi are alone in your bedroom.

Through the crystal ball, you see Levi sitting on a couch in The Fall with two succubuses, one on each side. Mammon and Satan were nearby surrounded by succubus too. You can clearly see that Levi is uncomfortable and blushing a lot. But everything indicates that his blush is due to embarrassment. You see the succubus trying to get closer to him and he shrinking and withdrawing. You can hear them calling him cute as he awkwardly thanks them.

You also see the moment when they ask him to take photos. He tries to reject it but he can't, because the succubus make him feel bad for rejecting the photo.

You see the inside of the crystal ball fill with fog to jump to a scene later that night as they are about to leave. Two other succubus are very close to Levi as if they wanted to hold him in his arms but he hadn't allowed it yet. He politely and shyly tells them that it's late and that he has to go home with his brothers. And that's when they say:

“You're not in a rush to get back to that human, are you?” At that moment, Levi's posture stiffens. The succubus smile and continue. “Come on, cutie, wouldn't you prefer a more vigorous woman to make you happier? That dull human must be so weak. She can't even do half of what we-”

“Okay, that's enough!” Levi says, his embarrassment completely disappeared and he seemed to control how upset he really was. “I tried to be nice, but you crossed the line by talking about (Y/N) like that. Firstly, I was just being polite to you, I don't want to have anything to do with you nor do I want to see you around me again. And secondly, you would never come even closer to how incredible and wonderful (Y/N) is! You have no idea who you are insulting right now, nor what I am capable of doing if you continue. So leave me alone!”

The succubus took a few steps back and calmly returned to The Fall, sulking. And then the crystal ball becomes opaque again. Levi has been silent the whole time, and when you look at him it looks like he wants to hide in a hole.

“I can't believe I spoke like that.” he muttered to himself “Out loud. In public! OMG, that was so embarrassing. I am so embarrassing. I should never have gone, I should have left there straight away. Why did I believe in that good-for-nothing of a brother...”

You hug him, which startle him. “W-w-wha?! Y-you're n-not mad?” You tell him no because he told you the truth and you were very happy to see him defending you like that. He hugs you back almost crying (or maybe actually crying). You feel his desperate embrace.

“You have no idea how horrible that was. I was so uncomfortable. I just wanted to hide in my room and never come out. I missed you so much! *sob* I just wanted to be with you! *sob* Like this! I love you so much! Don't let them fool me like that again, please...*sob*”

If you start kissing him on the face, this will only make him even more emotional and make the hug tighter. If you keep going, he won't let go of you for a VERY long time. He needs your comfort.

“Good morning (Y/N).” Satan greets you as always. You greet him back, slightly less excited to see him than usual. “Is there something wrong?” You're still not sure whether to tell him or not about the photos you saw at Devilgram and he notices your hesitation. “If there is something bothering you, you can tell me. Whenever you feel comfortable to, of course.”

With that, you decide to tell him. He is first surprised because he didn't know these photos existed. And then he becomes furious that photos were taken and published without his consent.

“So they took the pictures anyway, even after I said no. What kind of photos are these?”

You show him some. They are all photos taken when he wasn't looking. Surrounded by succubuses who seemed attracted to the way he ignored them or demonstrated mere good manners with a lack of interest in them. However, in some of them he was smiling while talking to one or another succubus. He noticed that in these, his expression became slightly sad or worried.

“I think I remember that one.” He says “She had started talking about a book that had recently come out and that I happened to like. This photo must have been taken before I realized that she didn't know what she was talking about and had only started talking about the book to please me. But now that I think about it, she must have done it all just to get this photo.”

You see him getting angry again. That smile behind the aura of growing rage. You put your hand on his shoulder, trying to make him look at you in an attempt to calm him down a little. He looks at you as if he had just noticed your presence at that moment after being immersed in his angry memories of that photo. And his expression changes. He calms down and, although he is still upset about the photos, he is more concerned with reassuring you.

“Listen, I only went to The Fall last night because Asmo insisted on a brothers' night. After all the problems I've had with them, I decided to myself that I would always accept these types of invitations. But that was the only reason I went. I would have much rather stayed home reading any of my books, or with you. I can assure you that pretty much all of those succubuses were just annoying me.”

Knowing Satan and the seeing pictures, everything indicated that he was telling the truth. But even so, you wanted to test Solomon's crystal ball and you tell Satan about it.

“Would you like to see what happened then? With pleasure. If that will give you peace of mind I'll show you whatever you want to see.” he says with a confident smile.

Back at Cocytus Hall, Solomon was still out somewhere and you and Satan are alone in your bedroom.

Through the crystal ball, you see Satan sitting on a couch in The Fall with two succubuses, one on each side. Mammon and Levi were nearby surrounded by succubus too. You see him backing away a little whenever a succubus tried to approach him, until he realized that if it continued like this it would be preferable to simply get up and leave. So he just gives up.

“I didn't want to leave because, like I told you, I was there for my brothers.” Satan tells you “And I didn't want to spend all that time standing either.”

You see the moment he told you about, when one of those succubuses mentioned the name of the book because she had heard about it in Devilgram or something. That's when he finally looks at her for the first time and she smiles because she got what she wanted, his attention. He starts talking about the book and his opinion on it, but it's when he starts asking the succubus questions that her mask starts to slip. She said she didn't remember the names of the characters and the answers were vague and the kind that would serve for any question. He starts to get suspicious and decides to ask her a trick question, which she falls for.

“You haven't read the book. You don't even know what you're talking about.”

“OH, come on~!” the succubus says “You should relax here, not talk about books. Now that you've finally looked at me, don't you think it's better to look at than words on a page~?”

“Not really.” Satan answers boldly and sincerely.

“What?! Oh, come on~ there must be someone here who piques your interest more than books.” another succubus says “Maybe me?”

“If you really want to know if there is someone capable of making me stop reading to look at her, yes, she exists, but she is not here and she is not a succubus either.” he reveals, starting to get irritated.

“You're not talking about that human, are you? She is just-”

“Be very careful with the words you let out of your mouth because if you don't, you're one sentence away from irritating me enough to bring this place down with all of you in it!” He finally snapped, and the succubus calmly withdraws as if afraid of a time bomb exploding. And a crystal ball becomes opaque.

“Now that I hear it, I'm not very proud of what I said.” Satan says, slightly embarrassed. “But I don't regret it. Nobody insults you in front of me.”

You hug him. You say that maybe he exaggerated with his words, but you were happy to see him defending you like that. He hugs you back and kisses your forehead. You feel his embrace grow more affectionate.

He sighs in relief, "It's so much better to be with you like this."

“Good Morning hon~!” Asmo greets you cutely as always. You greet him back, slightly less excited to see him than usual. “Aw~, what's wrong? It seems like you're upset about something.” You look at him with a disappointed look. “What? Don't tell me you're like this because of me? What did I do?”

You take your D.D.D. out of your pocket, open his own Devilgram profile and show him all the photos of him with succubuses, having fun together as if you were extremely close. He plays it cool, but behind the cute voice, he was worried.

“Aw, don't worry hon. They’re just pictures for my fans. With... my fans. It's nothing special. It's just something I always do. You know, as an influencer I have to create this kind of content. You understand right?” He looks at you with innocent little eyes and a sweet smile.

That doesn't convince you, and the fact that he's the Avatar of Lust doesn't help either. Your look is an indecisive mix between angry and sad.

“Nothing happened, I promise. I know I don't give off the air of the most faithful person in the world, but that doesn't mean I will love anyone other than you. Ever since I fell in love with you, the most I give to others are hugs. And that's all you can see in the photos too.” You still weren't convinced. “I would never lie to you. *sigh* If there was a way to prove my loyalty to you.”

This reminds you of Solomon's crystal ball and you suggest to Asmo that you use it as this way of proving that nothing serious happened last night. He accepted without hesitation, and comments that he can't wait to see (again) how pretty he looked that night.

Back at Cocytus Hall, Solomon was still out somewhere and you and Asmo are alone in your bedroom.

Through the crystal ball, you see Asmo sitting on a couch in The Fall surrounded by succubuses. And he was hugging some of them, mainly to take pictures. His face often came close to theirs, but never touched them. He seemed to be having fun flirting with the succubuses or incubuses that approached him.

The Asmo beside you couldn't even deny that he was flirting. He doesn't say anything either, and you feel him uncomfortable beside you.

You see the inside of the crystal ball fill with fog to jump to a scene later that night as they are about to leave. A lot of succubus are very close to Asmo, each of his arms around waist os one of them. And it's when he lets go that they grab him back.

“OH, come on Asmo, what happened to you?” one succubus asks.

“Hum? What do you mean?”

“The only thing you've done this whole time is flirt with us and give us hugs. Don't you want to do anything else? You know~ Just like old times~?”

“Sorry~, I'm not that Asmo anymore. I've changed. No offense, dear, but I don't need it anymore.” He explains with a cute smile trying not to offend them.

“It's that human's fault.” another succubus comments to the rest of them, allowing Asmo to hear it as well. “She must have put a chastity spell on him or something. You know we can help you with that baby. Set you free.”

“She didn't... You know what, maybe you're right. Maybe she really did put a spell on me. And I feel great about it. I've never been happier. And now that I think about her I feel so happy that I only wish you the same. Ah, I should text her. Or call her. Aw~ now I just want to see my little Sheep-chan~” He turns his back on them and walks towards the exit as if he had completely forgotten about their existence while he was thinking about you. And a crystal ball becomes opaque.

“You see? I told you the most I did was hug. Okay, I admit I still find it fun to flirt with others, but that's just it, you know, like I find it fun to tease my brothers.”

Seeing the satisfied look on your face, he puts his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and kisses your cheek lovingly.

“I promise if it hadn't been a brothers’ night I would have called you.” he kisses you again “But don't worry, no one else will feel these lips but you.” He will continue to kiss your face until you let him kiss your lips.

“Good Morning (Y/N).” Beel greets you as always. You greet him back, slightly less excited to see him than usual. “Hum? Is there something wrong?” You're still thinking about whether to tell him about the photos you saw or let it go. “You don't look well. Did you eat something that made you sick?”

He really seems concerned about you, so you decide to tell him the truth. You tell him that you knew he and his brothers went to The Fall last night throw some pictures that were posted on Devilgram. Most of them were with Asmo, but you found one or two of Beel sitting with succubuses.

“They took pictures I didn't even notice.” He says.

You ask what they were doing sitting with him?

“I don't know. Some just sat down next to me out of nowhere. But Asmo told me later that they were trying to flirt with me, I think.”

“And you didn't realize that?” You ask

“Nope. I was just thinking about my mixed nuts. You should try it. I don't know where they get them but The Fall's are really good.” He smiles, like he always does when he thinks of a food he likes.

You laugh at his obliviousness. There is no reason for you to doubt Beel. You think that there is no need to use Solomon's crystal ball, but you would still like to test it and tell Beel about it. He responds that he doesn't mind and is happy to help you.

Back at Cocytus Hall, Solomon was still out somewhere and you and Beel are alone in your bedroom.

Through the crystal ball, you see Beel sitting on a couch in The Fall alone. He had a neutral expression, looking around as if he just wanted to distract himself. You ask if Belphie wasn't with them.

“He was, but I think at this point he was with Levi. He was feeling uncomfortable there so Belphie went to keep him company.” You ask why he hadn't gone with them. “I was waiting for my mixed nuts. I didn't want them to get the wrong table.”

You see a group of three succubuses approaching Beel. One of them asks with a smile if they could sit there and drink with him. To which he replies: “There are plenty of open tables over there.” You burst out laughing as you watched the sulking succubuses retreat. The Beel beside you smiles seeing you laugh.

You see Asmo arrive with Beel's mixed nuts and asking what happened to those succubuses. Beel tells him.

“What?! I can't believe it!” Asmo says “Don't tell me that you didn't realize that they were trying to flirt with you?!”

Beel doesn't respond, just looks at Asmo unbothered and slightly confused.

“Oh my... So you really didn't realize? Those poor girls... If they'd only come over to me instead of Mr. antisocial here, I would've made sure that they had the night os their dreams.”

“I think they were interested in Beel because he doesn't chase after every girl he sees.” Lucifer says as he approaches them.

“Lucifer! That's so meeean... It almost sounds like you're suggesting that I am the one who does that.”

“Even if I had realized *munch* *munch* it wouldn't make a difference *munch* *munch*  No matter who comes up to me *munch* *munch*  I won't flirt back. *munch* *munch* Even if I knew how.”

“You don't know the fun you're missing.” Asmo says.

Beel shrugs and continues eating as the image fades and the crystal ball turns opaque.

“Sorry we didn't invite you.” Beel says to you. “But Asmo wanted it to be a brothers' night like the ones we had before. You're not upset that you didn't come with us, are you?”

You say you're not upset and hug Beel. He gives you a loving bear hug and kisses your cheek.

“I promise we'll invite you next time.” He says with his cute smile.

“*yawn* ´morning (Y/N)~.” Belphie greets you as always. You greet him back, slightly less excited to see him than usual. “Hum? What's wrong? Didn't you sleep well?”

You say it wasn't that, well maybe a little, but the truth is that you were like that from the pictures you had seen of him at The Fall last night. He asks what photos and you show him some of the ones you found in Devilgram. All of them with him sleeping on the shoulders of some succubus.

“I don't remember these photos.” He tells you calmly, as if he is completely sure of his innocence. “They were clearly taken while I was sleeping and I couldn't say no. Asmo really wanted to have a brothers' night so I went with them, but it was very late and I was really sleepy. I must have accidentally fallen asleep on their shoulders and they took advantage of that to take the photos. You're not upset, are you?”

Maybe you were, just a little. But you knew that what he was saying was most likely the truth, any other explanation didn't make sense in Belphie's case. However, you wanted to test Solomon's crystal ball, so you tell Belphie about it anyway. He says, with a smile, that he doesn't mind helping you test it.

Back at Cocytus Hall, Solomon was still out somewhere and you and Belphie are alone in your bedroom.

Through the crystal ball, you see Belphie sitting on a couch in The Fall, with Beel and Asmo. Beel was busy eating while Asmo was talking to some succubuses. One of them was sitting between him and Belphie. He began to slowly close his eyes and eventually fell asleep, letting his head fall on the succubus' shoulder. She was overjoyed by that and when the others noticed, they looked at them, and they all commented on how cute Belphie was. Even Asmo praised his little brother's cuteness.

You feel a little jealous because he actually looked really cute. The Belphie next to you hugs you around the waist and lays his head lazily on your shoulder. “Your shoulder is better.” he whispers.

“I wonder if he would wake up with a kiss? Hi hi.” You hear the succubus in the crystal ball say. She leans in to kiss Belphie on the lips when he immediately opens his eyes and straightens up, escaping the kiss.

“Sorry.” Belphie says “I fell asleep by accident.”

“No problem, cutie. You can lie on my shoulder whenever you want. And if you want to lie in another way, you can too~”

“No, thanks. I'm good. I'd better sit somewhere else so this doesn't happen again.” He stands up, but the succubus holds his hand.

“There's no need. You can stay here with me, I don't mind~”

“But I do.” He lets go of her hand and goes to sit next to Beel, where he ends up falling asleep again on his shoulder. And the crystal ball becomes opaque again.

Belphie was now almost asleep on your shoulder, hugging you like you were his teddy bear.

“Since we're already in your bed, why don't we take a nap together~? *yawn* So sleepy...”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[elixrr]

ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ! ☆ ʜᴏʏᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ᴍᴇɴ¡

ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

ꜰᴛ: Xiao, Wriothesley, Lyney, Dan Heng, Argenti, Blade.

ꜱʏɴᴘᴏꜱɪꜱ: Headcanons about their cuddles with you!

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I considered adding Alhaitham into the mix, but I figured that I didn't know his character well enough for his part to be accurate and good. Apologies to all of the Alhaitham fans! Also, new format for my fanfiction posts, inspired by many creators! (Namely iheartganyu)

ᴘꜱ: pretty little spoiler warning if you haven't caught up with anything in either game 😭😭

✰ xiao ✰

— An adeptus of Liyue, the Vigilant Yaksha. It's easy to guess that cuddles with him are rare. Mostly due to his job, but he's too... awkward. Xiao has been touch-starved for the great majority of his life, so it's easy to assume that he's inexperienced, much to his dismay.

Don't get me wrong. He'd love to cuddle more often, but— while inexperience is one part of it, Xiao is ultimately insecure. He strongly believes that he's tainted. He believes that he's a disgusting, vile creature that lives only to slaughter, but he thinks of you as an angel. Xiao thinks that too many cuddles would taint you, alongside the fact that he worries about his Karmic Debt situation.

Nevertheless, when you do convince him to cuddle with you, he'll be awkward at first; hesitant to put his arm here, overthinking how he put his hand there, etc., etc. He doesn't emit much body warmth, but he finds you to be really cozy and warm to the touch, thus finding comfort in the closeness once he moves past the insecurities and hesitation. By the way, unless you like to initiate and contribute to conversations, most of the cuddles will be in comfortable silence, excluding the occasional comment about the scenery or compliments about each other.

Xiao would cuddle on the condition that it's in a secluded area and nobody else is present except for you and him. He'd prefer to book a bedroom at Wangshu Inn, but if not, then he'd prefer to cuddle on the rooftop of the inn, late at night when the stars shine from the heaven-blessed galaxies, the subtle natural light kissing your features to give him a little bit of an extra view. He doesn't think too much about how he looks to you, but he could only hope that he's at least bearable to look at. (Which he very much is.)

☆ wriothesley ☆

— He's so touchy and extra cuddly that sometimes that extra cuddly can be too extra, resulting in a near impossible mission to get out of bed in time for you to even get ready. Wriothesley loves holding you close to him. You're his love, and so he wants to treat you like it, but sometimes cuddles can transform into something a little bit more than just a cozy night, wrapping one's arms around the other.

Speaking of, good luck to you if you prefer being the big spoon, because you can't be the big spoon anymore. Wriothesley will always be the one to hold you, always the one to just wrap his arms around you and cherish you like never before. As previously mentioned, you're his lover, and he wants to treat you like it! Wriothesley wants to make you feel special, like you're the most important person in his life, so he'll do his best to give you that.

Also, I feel as though he'd whisper to you a lot. Even if there's no need to be quiet, he finds it intimate to just lean in and whisper compliments in your ear while holding you close. It doesn't matter what situation you're in; it doesn't matter where you guys are, even if you're talking about your day or the constellations in the skies above, he'll interrupt you, lean in close and just say something about your eyes, maybe your clothes, but preferably your lips.

Wriothesley would also love kissing you at random whenever you cuddle. Not to say he doesn't already do that outside of cuddles, but it's just, to him, you look amazing. You look cute, and why wouldn't he kiss you when you're his gracious lover? He hopes that he doesn't go overboard and accidentally make you uncomfortable, but at the same time, he knows you enjoy it— that smile on your face every time he pecks a kiss on your nose or cheek tells him everything he needs to know.

Before I forget, he doesn't prefer cuddles during any time of the day, but given his job, it's mainly during his afternoon tea breaks, and 100% at night in bed with you. To be honest, if he could, he'd take a full day off just to hold you tight and spend the day with you, wrapped like burritos in a blanket and sipping the day away with refreshments and love.

Some day, he might as well do just that.

☆ lyney ☆

— If it weren't for his job as a magician and as part of the fatui, he wouldn't let go of you. When Lyney can, he clings to you like a lost child who had finally found their parent in a big city. He holds your waist with one hand and performs little magic tricks with the other to impress you. Lyney's a very clingy, touchy lover.

When cuddling, he loves getting super close to the point where there's almost no space between the two of you. But on the occasion, he'll snuggle so close that it's basically just a tight hug—the only difference is that you're both lying down. The only times he isn't super, mega close to you, is when he's making rainbow roses appear randomly around your body. Most of the time, it's all fun and innocent, but other times, Lyney enjoys the look on your face when he does something quite bold.

Also, Lyney's very talkative while cuddling. Even in moments of relaxation, he'll take the time to just stare at you, even if he can't get the full view because of the ungodly lack of space, Lyney will look at you and start complimenting you. He loves you so much, and that's another huge way to show it. He's a romantic kind of guy. If there's a way to show his affection, he will take and use that way to show his affection. He loves your smile; he loves it when you blush, and it slowly grows more evident by the second because he starts to blush, too. Also, Lyney would immediately just hold you more at the sight of your reaction.

Nevertheless, his need to be close can change. Whenever he's out on a mission given by Arlecchino— more specifically, an assassination mission— you won't see him for a good three days. Even when the mission's complete, he'd want to seek out your love, comfort, and affection, but he stops himself. Lyney believes that his hands are still painted with the blood of the murdered, no matter how many times he washes or scrubs them, he'll still see the visible darkening red blood stains. There's no way he's even going near you with those kinds of sins straight on his body. It's sad, and you might have to seek him out yourself if he doesn't show up for the next few days. When you do find him, the moment he sees you is when that wall of guilt shatters, and he nearly breaks down seeing you again. Seeing you every day made him used to you, and just a few days of deprivation made him feel miserable. The simple, mere sight of you had him almost sobbing, running back to you and holding you tight, finally reunited with the one he loves most.

Were he not guilty of association with the fatui, he wouldn't have ever needed or wanted to let go.

☆ dan heng☆

— Blushing little mess. He's never a fan of PDA, so even when he does want to hold you outside of his or your room, he doesn't. Hence why the moment you both enter the private space of a hotel room or a bedroom, Dan Heng takes your hand and leads you to the bed for cuddles. He loves them, really, but he's a flustered mess of a lover because of how embarrassed he felt about being so clingy.

He's a big spoon, too, so he holds you close to him while cuddling. He likes the closeness, but he hates how visibly red his face gets, so he buries his face into your shoulder to hide. Sometimes, he just lays there listening to you or simply calming down in silence, but he does like hearing your voice before bed. It helps him sleep, and it somehow prevents nightmares of Blade. Quick note, your comfort and warmth make him feel safe through the night, and you accompany him when he'd usually be alone, either on his phone or reading a book.

PS: Dan Heng prefers to sleep in your room and/or in a hotel room because your bed and the hotel's provided beds are much more comfortable than a sleeping bag. He loves wrapping a blanket around the two of you and holding you like that. He says it's so you both get an even amount of warmth, and neither of you takes more of the blanket than the other, but he really does it because he feels a bit closer to you.

In his Imbibitor Lunae form, sleeping with him gets a bit harder, simply because he finds it harder to control himself. But when he can control himself, he'll let you run your fingers through his long hair, maybe even letting you touch his horns. Still, he doesn't allow the latter too often for reasons left unsaid. Anyway, he dislikes using this form because of how it reminds him of his former's past. He feels as though he's trapped in the memories and sin that are not his own. Yet, you make him feel comfortable in his own skin. He feels free with you; he feels alive, and he loves you for your ability to make him feel that way. Dan Heng will do everything in his ability to make you feel the same way.

And he likely already has.

☆ argenti ☆

— The most proper and romantic. Compliments littered across your entire figure, his hand in yours kissing your knuckles constantly with the addition of the most rosey and romantic sweet nothings. Argenti is old-fashioned and the most romantic, as he believes that this is the only way to live for his adored Aeon. The most comment compliment you'd hear between kisses is, “you're the most exquisite person in my world,” and Argenti would always wink with his compliments. Sometimes, it's wonderful to be the subject of his rose-colored words, but other times, it gets old; you become slightly lovesick.

The solution to that is conversation while holding each other in bed, or perhaps it's simply ushering Argenti to cuddle with you beneath the stars at night. It's beautiful to see the galaxy in its brightest moments, hovering from the dark skies. Argenti would silently pray to his Aeon, thanking her profusely for letting him see this wonderful view in person.

Still. You are his lover, and sometimes the weight of fear and trauma gets to him. Argenti often looks to you to confide in, and usually, nights like these are rarely cuddle nights, but sometimes, when it gets bad, you'll hold him in the night while he talks about his past— the wars, the music, the old friends, the worries— and how terrifying it can be if he would succumb to the same fate as his once so honorable friend. In exchange for your comfort, he holds you close and vows to protect you in your dreams and from the moment you wake to the moment you sleep again.

Argenti prefers to cuddle in bed, during a picnic, or beneath the stars. He seldom makes exceptions for heavy PDA, but when it comes to cuddling in public, even if there are people around during the day or at night, if it's stargazing or a picnic, he doesn't care as much. He'll smile, his eyes set only on you, not the eyes that may linger on your cuddles.

He doesn't care enough to look at anyone else, not when the embodiment of beauty lays right by him.

☆ blade ☆

— He's cautious. Blade's name takes after his weapon, and though he himself is not a sword, he still worries that he'll hurt you through cuddles. Blade is marastruck, and if it starts to get to him, he's terrified that it'll strike you, too. He admires death and the concept of it, but for you to die and for him to live with that? Impossible.

Anyway, convincing him is still 100% doable. When you do cuddle with him, he holds you with hesitation and care. He doesn't show it, as he masks his emotions with lips pursed to a line, but he feels relief. He feels happy, even, but he can't really tell. The Mara has calmed, and he can catch a break from the trauma. Something worth noting: Blade's trauma might cause him to cling to you, holding you close for comfort and reassurance— but that's only when he finds himself to be desperate for your love and affection. It's the one thing that keeps him together; your smile alone can mend all of his wounds, physical or not.

That can happen at any time of the day, but he'll typically seek you out at night. Blade will— without a spoken word— hug you from behind with a sigh of relief, and he'll take you to the nearest spot with the most privacy, and he'll hold you tight once more without a sign of letting you go. He loves you, and without even saying that he does, you already have all the evidence you need to conclude that he does. Holding you feels like heaven, in Blade's eyes. Once he gets past his fears of hurting you, he'll wrap his arms around your waist, but if he cuddles with you from behind, he'll wrap his arms beneath your chest, all with a sigh of relief and the tiniest hint of a smile.

The two of you cuddling is cute, so cute that Silver Wolf just had to stream it and broadcast one of your cuddle sessions to all of the other Stellaron Hunters.

Of course, you and Blade will never cuddle near any of the Stellaron Hunters ever again after that.