#i think the most obvious being the feeling of being trapped by things which he knows he should love at detriment to himself

[webanglikethat]

things ram and devi have done and said without even saying they’re in love / being in a relationship because they drive me insane:

Ram defied orders from the LITERAL goddess because he didn’t want Devi to die, thus ignoring his duties

-> like …. he willingly let another woman DIE in Devi’s place and !!!! this act had been committed five years ago, when the affection between the two had BARELY begun blossoming

-> “Why bother when the goddess herself allows you to decide people’s fate?” had been Devi’s question to him, but little did she know, he already defied every rule for her, going against literal fate

he saved Devi during the arson, putting her before his own BROTHER

he went after Devi when she took off on an horse during the attack, and carried her in his arms back to safety (which he realllyy didn’t have to do 🤭)

it’s revealed he would purposefully change his route to catch a glimpse of Devi

-> Ram’s wishful desire was to see her at every service; just hoping to catch her smile along the hallowed halls where once they met

he “noticed an unfamiliar feeling rising inside him” when he met her again

Ram always found an excuse to touch Deviya — holding her hand to lead her somewhere, brushing his fingers over her cheek to calm her, cupping her face, putting a hand on her waist, trapping her against the wall, his finger on her lips, holding her hands tighter as if it could heal her holding her waist as she straddled him

he said he “missed her smiling at him”

he kissed her neck (quite literally marking her) while thinking of how De Clare would react, not realizing the jealousy that was growing in his heart at the thought of losing her to him

-> which he then said (in season 2) he’d do it on her wedding day too !!

-> in the same episode he tried to pretend he doesn’t care about their engagement 💀, mission failed my dude 🤭

“That. The way he felt when she was near him. The reason he always looked for her in the crowd and couldn’t stop teasing her”

ram always thought of marriage as a transaction, a duty to be fulfilled, something he simply had to do. and love? love wasn’t a necessary equation. that’s what his family line looked like — alliances, partnership, all devoid of tenderness. but Deviya awakened something in Ram — and for the first time, he was confused and lost

“It’s ironic that even with all the knowledge and wisdom of the world at my disposal, I still can’t figure this out on my own. I’m almost thirty, and for all of my life I have denied myself what I wanted because the greater good was more important. And in all this time… no one has ever been able to enchant me as much as…”

Ram talked Devi through her anger at the reception so she wouldn’t make a mistake in front of her guests and lose the position she had so long worked for (he helps her see the bigger picture)

Ram told her their connection wasn’t for nothing. they were fated for a reason

the less often he saw her, the more he wanted to see her

-> and if she didn’t came, he would wait for her

he noticed everything she did — be it the way she shifted from foot to foot when she was nervous or how she looked at him in fear (from the subtlest of things to the most obvious, he noticed it always)

he teased her about how much she liked him but then said:

“such a rakhasi cannot possibly die. I need her”

admitting, even if it was meant as a tease, that he could no longer exist in a world in which her presence didn’t fill his heart’s pages

he comforted her on the day of her death, quickly realizing that:

“/ wish this had happened to me instead... hasn't she been dealt enough pain already, in her life?”

“when Ram realized how sincere his desire to take all Deviya's troubles for himself was, it quickly became clear that their secret relationship had taken on a new meaning … growing into something profound”.

what started as a perhaps meaningless, fleeting, teasing affair quickly turned into something more — something he couldn’t put a name to, but he could feel encompassing his body every single second

he could no longer pretend it was just for fun or a distraction

so he finally mustered up the courage to ask Devi to be with him (but not officially 😔) even if it was in secret — for he would rather have her in secret, than lose her be it to death or another man. 

noticing how distressed she was, he closed his eyes and then slowly began kissing her fingers. Devi noticed that his eyelashes were trembling. “he’s nervous as well, but once again he tries to reassure me first, even though he could use some support himself."

he always put her before himself, over and over again. this isn’t something he was taught, like I mentioned before. for him, marriage or love was based on children, mutual respect and the husband’s views. yet he interminably put himself in the background, just to help Devi shine

“they kissed each other gently and yet desperately at the same time, as only doomed lovers can kiss.”

“he was with her right at that moment. sharing her pain and fear... would that have been possible if what they had was fleeting? he always chose her, no matter what.”

Ram: “I'll be with you. no matter what.” Devi: “I know”

he fought for her, allowing her to escape

and her thoughts led to him, even as she bled out

“the very thought of losing him was unbearable. and just as things were beginning to blossom between them.” “dying would be a little easier if you were holding my hand right now”

"I'm with him in my thoughts, heart, and soul." // "even if it doesn't make any real sense, it does for me. l feel calmer this way."

being away from her, when she was in a coma, made Ram feel like he was dying too // the thought of losing him (as she actively died) felt even worse than death

-> his biggest dream was being able to touch her again, to gaze into her eyes, to see his affection being mirrored in hers. to hear her laughter again was all he could hope for

they risked MULTIPLE times to be caught just to bask in each other’s presence — even if it was only for a few moments because the risk was worth it — they are worth it to each other

his face “instantly lost colour” when she mentioned her wedding

he tried pretending it didn’t hurt him — that he could accept it, that he could have a part of her and let it be enough, but they both knew the truth

so she laid out her future: her married to De Clare, visiting India from time to time, meeting Ram’s wife — but not him because he would still remain a coward who couldn’t voice what he wanted

so he finally let his feelings free and kissed her, marking her neck (in the middle of the hall where everyone could’ve caught them)

he touched her under the table — at dinner, where again, anyone could’ve seen them !!!

the moment Devi’s smile faded, Ram noticed immediately and shifted his tone, asking softly, “is something wrong?” -> he is SO attuned to her emotions, so skilled at noticing even the slightest change — which is especially important since Ram isn’t portrayed as someone who does this for just anyone

they know each other well enough to play off each other’s words without malice — their banter is so much fun (especially on passion route)

he fingers her in the library 🤭 he’s SO careful with her even though it’s obvious they’re both overwhelmed by the connection — he’s letting her set the pace and the fact that Ram doesn't push, but instead allows her to slowly move at her own pace, amplifies her vulnerability and makes her every move feel more significant. she’s still confused on what she wants and he lets her explore it on her own, and she knows he will wait for her

he wanted to dance with her despite not knowing how to — and in front of everyone too !! he was ready to embarrass himself for her

-> he is so caught up in her that he’s willing to push past his own comfort zone, even if it means embarrassing himself a little; as long as he can witness her smile

now she is the one who takes the power and kisses him, marking HIS neck — and so they imagine each other naked, finally taking the next step and ….

he finally admits it to himself.

He wanted to finally understand what it meant to connect with the woman he loved with all his heart.

Ram Doobay is in love with Deviya Sharma.

[hugsandchaos]

Okay, so what if Danny and Ellie crashed on Themyscira? When Danny wakes up from passing out, instead of just crying, he turns to the person in the room and demands to know what they did to his sister. He doesn’t trust them one bit when they say she’s okay until she’s brought into the room, safe and sound. Ellie also wanted her big brother because he passed out and practically pounced him when she saw him awake.

Most of the time, Danny stays as alert as he can and keeps glaring at everyone, with Ellie being an exception. He acts very sweet and considerate towards her, and is very patient with her. They still act like siblings sometimes, though. Ellie likes to annoy Danny into chasing her, and it works almost every time. Ellie has told the women there stories about Danny taking care of her. The Amazons think it’s admirable that even though Danny’s a child himself, he acts so much like a guardian, but are saddened by the fact that he has to.

Later on, when he’s starting to trust them, Wonder Woman comes back to visit and investigate. Danny’s very unhappy. In his mind, she works for the Justice League and the Justice League works with the government. You know who works for the government she works with? The G.I.W., and to him, that automatically means that the Justice League knows about them and doesn’t have a problem with it. If they did, they would’ve done something by now.

He avoids her and keeps Ellie by his side or behind him. She trusts his judgment, so she doesn’t argue much when he says to not let Wonder Woman touch her, which is a shame because she’s one of Ellie’s favorites. When Wonder Woman is near Ellie, Danny watches her like a hawk and steps in to pull Ellie away if he thinks things are getting bad.

Wonder Woman definitely notices his behavior. The constant glaring, putting himself between her and his sister, the obvious distrust, his attempts to herd Ellie away from her, and the anxious hand twitching whenever she gets close to Ellie. She knows not everyone likes her, but that’s to be expected when you’re a hero. Someone’s bound to disagree. Still, she can’t help but wonder why he acts as if her touching him or Ellie would be the end of them. When she asks him about it, Danny glares at her and asks why he would trust her.

When she learns about the G.I.W., she’s understandably shocked. The government never told the League about any of it. Danny doesn’t buy it at all and she feels even worse. How long has this been going on that a child not only feels the need to fear and avoid the League, but also have so much distrust that he thinks her genuine reaction to this information is a trick to lure him and his sister into a trap?

Wonder Woman: What reason would you have to fear me?

Danny: Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you work for the Justice League? Maybe because the Justice League is dangerous?

Wonder Woman: What makes you think we’re dangerous? We only wish to bring Justice to the world.

Danny: “Justice”? Is that what you call letting the Guys In White do as they please? Is that what you call having laws and acts deeming any ectoplasmic entity as lower than animals? If you had anything against it, you would’ve done something by now. Maybe even a long time ago. But nothing’s changed.

[pathologicalreid]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeTkmpNy/ SPENCER MF REID 🙏🙏 can I pretty please request a one shot based on that video ITS SO CUTE

dewey decimal system | S.R.

in which spencer does the most spencer activity first thing in the morning - reorganizing your bookshelves

(tiktok link)

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: i'm fairly certain there aren't any word count: 619 a/n: the beauty of this being my account is that, even though my requests are closed, i was able to exercise free will and write it anyway. because reorganizing your bookshelves unprompted is so something spencer would do.

The other side of the bed was cold when you woke up. Your desire to roll over into Spencer’s arms before getting ready for the day squashed by his absence. Aimlessly patting your bedside table for your phone, you checked your notifications.

You hadn’t received a text, there was no note left on his pillow.

Sitting up in bed, you frowned before climbing out of bed. Cringing at the cold laminate under your feet, you hugged your arms around yourself and mourned the feeling of your comforter over your skin.

To your surprise, Spencer was wide awake, standing in front of your bookshelf like he was an opponent ready to strike. Padding across the living room, you approached him from behind and wrapped your arms around his waist, depending heavily on his body heat to give you the courage not to run back to bed.

“Good morning love,” he murmured, voice gruff from lack of use. With a morning slowness, he skimmed his palms along your arms, swaying gently to the soft sounds of dawn. “Are you alright?” He asked you when you didn’t respond, too caught up in the feeling of him to speak.

Pressing your cheek to the fabric of his plain white t-shirt, you sighed, closing your eyes and breathing in the scent of him, the scent of your laundry detergent on his clothes.

“What’s wrong, angel?” He whispered, softly squeezing your arms before turning himself around while trapped in your arms.

You didn’t let up, forcing him to twist himself within the circumference of your limbs just to see your face. The maneuver was so notably ungraceful that you couldn’t hold back your smile, “Nothing’s wrong,” you mumbled, now pressing your cheek to his chest while he tenderly cupped your head. “What are you doing up?”

Spencer dropped a kiss to the crown of your head, keeping his arms casually slung around you while he nodded at your bookshelves, “I was reorganizing your bookshelves.”

Furrowing your brows, you looked at your previously unruly shelves. They had now been adroitly redone, no longer having books stacked horizontally and being put off for another day, “What do you mean you were reorganizing my bookshelves?”

“Well, initially I had planned on using the Dewey decimal system, which is how my books are organized at home, but you had such an uneven ratio of each category that I ended up doing it alphabetically,” he explained to you, lazily using a hand to gesture to your collection.

Catching a glimpse of the titles, you asked, “By title?”

He shook his head, “Author’s last name,” he responded as if it should’ve been obvious to you. Spencer’s arms tightened around you as he craned his head to nestle his face in the crook of your neck, “Did you sleep well?”

You hummed contentedly at the proximity you had to him, “Right up until I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“I was reorganizing your books,” he emphasized, reminding you what he had spent his morning doing.

Nodding, you shut your eyes, savoring the feeling of his fingers as they now skated their way along your spine, “It looks nice, Spence.”

“Did you want to read a book together?” He asked you, continuing his ministrations on your back.

Pulling away slightly, you rested your palms on his shoulders as you looked up at him, “What?”

He jutted his chin in the direction of your shelves, “There are some books that I shelved, I think we could have a good time reading one together.”

You raised your eyebrows, “You’ll finish way before me though,” you hinted at his reading speed.

“Then I can read aloud to you,” he offered, beaming down at you.

[moonstruckme]

HI MAE so i didnt send the shy remus x reader ask but i saw that u wanted ideas and i had one. what about reader who's very cocky and like confident and stuff and remus is intimidated by her usually but then theyre at a party or smth and shes all drunk and shes all over him telling him stuff like how shes got the biggest crush on him or like how hes genuinely one of the most attractive people shes ever met and shy remus is js like 😳 while also taking care of her bc shes so drunk and simultaneously trying not to combust

Hi my love, thank you so much for your request!

cw: alcohol

shy!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Really, it should be Sirius’ responsibility to look after you. It is his party, after all. But Sirius has a love for delegating unwanted tasks and also a love for meddling (which Remus theorizes he got at least partly from James). So, naturally, you’re in Remus’ lap. 

“You guys are so nice,” you croon, words strung together like cursive and fingers toying with a loose thread of Remus’ sweater. He’s resigned himself to letting you unravel the whole thing without complaint. “All of you, all your friends are the nicest…the warmest people I ever knew. How’d you do that?” 

Remus smiles down at you. “I think James has always been good at bringing out the best in people.” 

He’s not entirely sure how you came to be lying on your back on the couch, your head on Remus’ thigh and your hands reaching for the dangling thread above you like a cat enjoying some lazy play. If he asked you, Remus doesn’t think you’d know, either. It makes a lovely view for him, your eyes uptilted in his direction and features relaxed and unguarded as a result of the series of tequila shots Sirius had cajoled you into not realizing you’d already had a few drinks. Remus very much enjoys having you this close and being able to look at you so casually, even if your brassy, larger-than-life demeanor often terrifies as much as impresses him. Even if your head on his thigh makes his face feel like a fire hazard. 

“Don’t think he had to work very hard with you. You’re such a sweetheart already.” You say it so simply, an obvious truth, and Remus finds himself staying perfectly still like a rabbit in the woods that thinks it might yet escape your notice. His heartbeat pitters in everywhere from his cheeks to his fingertips. He worries he’s going to have to make a response, but your eyes widen suddenly. “Oh! Sit still.” 

No problems there. Remus moves only his eyes as you sit up from his lap, tucking your feet underneath you and reaching for him with your lip trapped between your teeth in concentration. You touch a fingertip to his cheek and smile victoriously. 

“Got it.” You turn your finger, showing him. “You had an eyelash.” You blow it off your fingertip and onto Sirius’ rug. Remus marvels at the unthinking loveliness of you. “Have I talked to you about your eyes before?” you ask conversationally. 

Remus blinks, ceasing his tracking of the eyelash to look at you. “I don’t think so,” he ventures, though he knows you haven’t. He remembers most exchanges you’ve had, and he definitely would have remembered that. 

“Oh.” Your brows purse softly. “Must’ve been with someone else,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “Anyway, it’s important to me that you know, they’re really beautiful.” 

Remus startles, partly at the compliment but mostly at the touch you lay on his cheek, your fingers cool and gentle, like you’re steadying his face for your perusal. You look into his eyes attentively. 

“They’re brown,” Remus says in a soft voice. 

Your lips tilt like he’s said something funny. “Nobody’s eyes are just brown, Remus. There are so many different kinds.” Your index finger draws a short line across his cheekbone. Remus can’t tell you mean for it to or not. “Yours are sort of like a…like a gradient. They get lighter farther down.” 

Remus decides to study your eyes as you study his, and he sees what you mean. The shadow of your lashes makes your irises look darker at the tops. It’s difficult to tell, though, with your pupils eclipsing so much of them. 

“They’re, like, a warmish brown,” you’re saying, gaze unwavering. “Like the color you want your tea to be. You know, there’s some fact or study or something that says brown eyes make people feel safe. Did you know that?” 

“I didn’t,” Remus says. The weight of your attention is taking its toll on him, his body aching to sink into the couch cushions. He wants to ask if brown eyes have that effect on you, but he doesn’t have the nerve. “Is that so?” he asks instead.

You shrug. “I dunno. Works on me.” 

The breath stalls in Remus’ lungs. You’re looking at him like you haven’t said anything out of the ordinary, expression wide open and somewhat unfocused. 

You yawn, removing your hand from his face to half cover your mouth. It’s an awfully endearing show, and over too fast. “I guess that’s probably why—” You cut yourself off with a hiccup. Your eyes flare like you weren’t expecting it, hand jumping back up in front of your mouth. Remus grins before he can stop himself. 

“Oh.” Your smile is an afterthought, a response to his. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Remus isn’t even certain what you’re apologizing for. 

Your eyes have that sweet, attentive look again. “I really like when you smile.” 

Remus feels heat spread up to the tips of his ears. It’s official. He’s got more in common with a live flame than a human anymore. “What were you saying?” he prompts. 

You bite your lip as though you’ve forgotten. “Oh!” Your eyes light. “Just, I guess that’s probably why I have such a giant crush on you.” 

Remus’ heart thuds. He breathes, “What?” 

“Yeah.” You roll your eyes, grinning at yourself. “It’s relentless.” Hiccup. “Super embarrassing. But—but you’ve got those eyes, and your freckles, and that sweetheart face…” You shrug again, helpless. Ride out another hiccup. “What am I supposed to do?” 

Remus stares at you. It seems impossible. You have a crush on him? It’s out of the natural order. The world’s gone to chaos. It’s supposed to be the other way around! Remus pines silently after you, you eventually find some big, cocksure bloke who can match you, and Remus continues to pine whilst you go on with your brilliant, dazzling life. That’s the way it’s meant to be. 

“I would…” Remus finds his mouth forming around words he doesn’t recognize until they come out. “I’d know a thing or two about a crush like that.” 

Your lips part, but you don’t look offended. “Well, yeah. I’d hope you knew I fancied you, I’ve only been seeking you out ever since we met.” 

Not what he meant. Remus did not, in fact, know that. 

“I didn’t notice you were,” he admits. 

Your head tilts. “Really?” There’s an obvious follow up question—then what did you mean just now?—but for one reason or another, you don’t ask it. You only lean onto his shoulder, your head slipping a few inches down his arm.

Remus channels all his bravery into an arm around your waist to keep you from slumping further. He vows to himself to tell you tomorrow.

[tayraedoll]

Mine for the Taking

Yandere Alastor in rut with innocent reader. Alastor is a manipulative shit and you are all too trusting. 18+ MDNI

Part 2

Word count: 3301

TW: Alastor is his own warning, breeding kink, creampie, scent marking, mating cycles, p in v intercourse, possessive Alastor, oral (fem receiving), blood, pregnancy trapping, manipulation, one swear word I think?

Alastor has a plan for you. You do not know it yet, but YOU. ARE.HIS.

You have been his ever since you stepped foot in the hotel all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. You were newly spawned in Hell, Charlie found you in an alleyway scared and all alone so she immediately gave you refuge at her hotel. And how could she not? You were so sweet and so vulnerable, a complete enigma in Hell. Charlie was certain you would be quick to redeem. Too bad Alastor will never let them happen.

He has been completely enraptured with you since your first meeting. For one, you were a little doe which was a rarity in Hell. But it was your aura of pure innocence that ultimately drew him in. There was no reason for someone like you to have ended up in Hell, you committed no sins in your life. For Alastor, that left just one explanation for your damnation- you were sent here to be his.

Alastor has been in hell for nearly a century; in that time he has acquired status, power, and wealth. For a time, these things were enough to make him happy. But as the years drew on, he started to become quite lonely though he would never admit it aloud. Loneliness was a weakness, he vowed to never feel such a pathetic emotion; but the loneliness crept up on him slowly until it infiltrated his mind every time he found himself without company. At first, he visited Rosie to quell the thirst for companionship and that worked for a while. But overtime even his best companion could not relieve the ache in his heart. The hotel residents did little to provide any solace for him, in fact he could barely stand being around most of them for long. Until you joined their ranks.

With you, Alastor was finally freed from the constant pang in his chest. You immediately accepted him as he was- never casting any judgement on his dark deeds despite what the other hotel residents told you. In fact, you never spoke ill of anyone. You were just too good for Hell, and he will do anything to protect that innocence.

Alastor started bonding with you over books, often catching you in the library. Soon, it became a routine to spend quiet evenings together discussing your favorite stories. That is where he learned of your passion for knowledge, so eager to learn everything you could about anything and everything. This was a quality he admired but also became troublesome for him. You were eager to learn about your deer form, wanting to know how the animal aspect of your being would affect you going forward. When he caught you looking for books on the subject he was immediately irritated that you would not just come to him for the answers you sought. So in retribution for your unwitting transgression he got rid of every book about all cervid forms in hell. He wanted all your knowledge about yourself to come from him, and there were certain parts he wanted to remain hidden.

The demon buck did not tell you about the mating season, did not explain that you would go into heat and he a rut. This gap in your knowledge was by his design. He wanted to ensure there was no way for you to prepare yourself for the season, he meticulously plotted to make you his and it would be tremendously less dramatic if you were unaware of the consequences of what that entailed.

Now, finally, the mating season was upon you both. Alastor could feel the early signs of his rut, made more obvious to him due to the presence of a doe he wished to court. He'd scoured several trees in his bayou, getting all the velvet off his antlers and marking his territory, and he was feeling more aggressive. Just the other day he nearly skewered Angel Dust on a tentacle for a crude remark made in your presence. But the most telltale sign of his upcoming rut was the constant need to be around you, to both protect you from potential threats and ensure that potential competition knew you were spoken for. The moment you showed signs of estrus he would put his plan into action.

Alastor made his way to the kitchen early in the morning to make breakfast for everyone. He had carefully put together a fat and carb-rich meal for you knowing that is what you will crave as your body prepares for breeding and pregnancy. He was just finishing buttering your toast when you entered the kitchen.

"Good morning Al!", you say in your cheery, upbeat tone.

"Good morning Darling! How are you on this lovely day?", he responds as he hands the plate over to you, looking you over as he does so for any sign of change in your usual demeanor.

"Doing well. Thank you for breakfast, I am starved this morning!", you reply as you eagerly dig into the food. 'An increased appetite is a good sign',he notes mentally.

"Ah! Always happy to provide My Dear! Do let me know if you require anything else." You spend the rest of breakfast making small talk until he has to start his duties as hotelier. Before he leaves, however, he orders his shadow to stay close to you and let him know what other changes are seen throughout the day.

The morning passed silently, but come afternoon, his shadow finally reported back to him. You were in the main living area participating in Charlie's trust exercises, but you were obviously distracted and restless. Your leg kept bouncing under you, your ears constantly swiveling around at the smallest sounds, and you were having a hard time paying attention to what the others were saying. You also frequently excused yourself to use the restroom and that got progressively worse throughout the day. Normally, you would join the others at the bar for a drink after the activities concluded, but today you excused yourself saying you wanted some alone time. Alastor jumped out of his seat- restlessness, isolation, and frequent urination were telltale signs of a doe in heat. You were ready, it was time to make his move.

The demon buck shadowed away to your room and used his mic to tap on the door. The moment you opened the door all his suspicions were confirmed. You smelled absolutely divine; honey-lemon and cedarwood invaded his nostrils and he flared them, taking a deep breath that caused the sweet scent to go straight to his cock as it twitched. He cared not for formalities or manners as he pushed passed you into your room. Scanning the area, he noticed that you had made a nest using blankets and pillows in the space between your bed and the wall; the final box ticked on the list of doe in estrus behaviors- bedding in unusual places.

"Can I help you Alastor? I'm sorry, I am not feeling well and I do not want to get you sick", you look up at him with your beautiful, large doe eyes.

"Yes, my dear, you can help me. In fact, you are the only one who can", he speaks slowly, setting his trap. You are a people-pleaser, always eager to help others out and putting your own needs on a backburner. How easy it is to use that delightful little quality against you.

"What is it Al? What do you need?" you plead, desperately wanting to help your friend.

Alastor paused for a bit, formulating the best way to pose his request as he slowly untied his bowtie to better let his pheromones invade your space. "Will you let me protect you Little One?"

"Huh?" you furrowed your brow in confusion, your body subconsciously leaning forward to get a better whiff of him.

The buck began to circle you slowly, starting with wide circles that gradually got smaller with each pass so he slowly go closer to you. "My sweet doe, that feeling you currently have- that hunger in your belly, that dizziness in your head- it's because you are in heat; just like all little does like you are this time of year. I did not tell you about it because I did not want to alarm you, I was not certain the extent of which you would be affected. But with your heat, you are extremely vulnerable. There are many brutish bucks out there who would just love to take advantage of you in this state", he stops in front of you and holds your cheek tenderly in one hand. Your heart is pounding, your large eyes fixed on him with a hint of fear in their depths as you lean into his gentle caress. "I would never forgive myself if something happened to you; you are much too precious to me and everyone else here. It would make me feel better if you would allow me to be your protector. I'd never let anyone harm you, I swear it." To drive his sentiment home his other hand came up to cup your other cheek as he leans his forehead against yours in a soothing and intimate display of affection.

His proximity and unexpected admission left you dizzy. He smelled so good, musky and savory like moss and spice, and you were starting to hope his hands would wander elsewhere on your body. You were suddenly surrounded by him and yet not consumed by him enough. "Yes, please be my protector Alastor. You are the only one I trust to keep me safe", you say as you raise your hands to his wrists and grasp them like a lifeline.

His smile widens, he has you exactly where he wants you. His victory is so close he can taste it. "Seal it with a deal Mon Cher, it is the best way. Through a soul bond I will always be able to find you, help you whenever you are in need." He stands up straight again and places a finger under your chin to lift your face to his. "I promise to take good care of it, to take good care of you." He extends his hand out slowly, as if moving too fast would frighten you away. You do not even hesitate, taking his hand immediately as if selling your soul was the easiest thing you would ever do.

"It's a deal." There is a brief flash of green, Alastor's smile is so wide it threatens to burst at the seams.

"Lovely!", the demon replies as he shadow portals you both to his own room. "Now, how about a drink to celebrate this new union?" He takes a bottle of red wine off a shelf at his desk and conjures two wine glasses. "I have been saving this little beauty for a special occasion. 1982 Chateau Lafite Rothschild Premier Cru Classe, one of the best from Bordeaux, France." He poured the wine out and handed you a glass. You thanked him and sipped it eagerly, it tasted like berries and currants and had a smoky, cigar smell. If Alastor were a wine, you were sure this would be it. You hummed in approval and drank your glass eagerly, completely unaware of the crimson irises that watched you intently.

You set your emptied glass on the table and studied the decor in the room, most notably the alligator skeleton hung on the wall. When you turn back around Alastor is right behind you; you gasp, not having heard him approach. His scent invades you senses again and heat starts to pool in your belly as your mind gets fuzzy. Before you even know what you are doing you have placed your hand on his chest, playing with his shirt buttons. He cups your cheek again, and leans in to capture your lips with his in a heated kiss.

The kiss is your undoing, as you wrap your arms around the much taller demons neck, letting out a lewd moan. You need more, you feel the need to be absolutely devoured by him. He runs his hands down your back, over the swell of your ass, and along the backs of your thighs where he hooks them over his hips. You clasp your ankles together around him as he carries you over to the bed.

He deposits you gently on the mattress and follows you down, keeping his weight on his forearms on either side of you. Alastor breaks the kiss to begin trailing his lips down your throat, burying his nose and inhaling deeply at the sensitive patch of skin right below your ear. A deep growl rips up from his chest that makes you shudder underneath him, goosebumps raising all along your skin.

Propping himself up on one arm, he trails his free hand down your body, cupping your breast through your shirt momentarily before moving his hand beneath your shirt. He gently tickles the soft, sensitive skin of your belly with his claws before grasping your fleshly mounds again, earning himself a whine from you as you begin to grind your hips up into him.

Unsatisfied with the lack of skin contact, he uses his claws to slice straight through your shirt and bra in one motion before snapping his own jacket and shirt away. You take a moment to admire the little tuft of fur on his chest, running your fingers through its silken layers before he leans down and captures one nipple in his mouth. You whine and squeeze his head in your arms, his fingers tweaking the other nipple. "Such a pretty little doe, behaving so well for me. Tell me, Mon Cher, what is it that you want?"

"I want you to touch me please", you whine desperately, face heating up slightly.

Alastor chuckles,"I am touching you! Is this all you want?" He rubs his thumbs over your nipples in slow, deliberate circles. You can feel the sensation down in your core.

"No, I want you to touch me...lower", you are gasping by this point, face red with embarrassment.

"Use your words Mon Cher, where exactly do you want me to touch you?", he teasingly runs a finger down your abdomen, stopping at the waistband on your sweatpants.

"I...I want you to touch my clit, and stick your fingers inside my pussy!", you spit out as fast as you can and hide your face behind your arms.

"My my Mon Cher! How delightfully vulgar! Such a good girl, and good girls get exactly what they want." He moves your arms from your face. "Eyes on me darling, do not look away. Think you can handle that?"

You nod and rest your hands above your head as Alastor swiftly removes your pants and panties in one swipe. You fight the urge to cross your legs, as if hearing your thoughts Alastor wraps his arms around your thighs and pins them to the bed with your already dripping cunt bared to him. Your face heats up as you watch him stare at your core for a moment before he plants sloppy, wet kisses up your inner thigh. Without warning he bites down on the sensitive flesh, eliciting a scream from you as you clench your eyes shut from the potent pain and pleasure cocktail.

Alastor immediately lets go of your thigh and growls out "Open your eyes!" With a bit of effort, you manage to open your eyes again and lock onto his wild, carmine gaze. Satisfied with your compliance, he gently laps at the wound to soothe it and clean up the droplets of blood that pooled there before dragging his tongue north where you wanted him. Your heart was beating so erratically you thought you were having a heart attack.

You squeal the second his tongue connects with your puffy clit, your legs trying to clamp shut but being unable to move due to Alastor's weight on your thighs. You do not dare look away from the man, afraid of what he would do should you earn his ire. He eats you out like it is his last meal, alternating between circling and sucking your clit before plunging his long, hot tongue into your depths. You tremble within his arms, the coil in your belly tightening faster than you ever thought possible. Your enhanced senses pick up every lewd, wet sound, the smell of your own arousal, and the site of his tongue disappearing into your folds. It was all too much, the coil snapped with a force that made your body fold at the waist as your shoulders shot off the mattress; your throat let out a strangled scream of his name.

The demon buck does not give you a second to recover as he climbs back over you, pushing you back into the mattress. His lips claim yours, making you taste your own bodily nectar as he unbuckles his belt and removes his trousers. Before you even realize that he was aligned with your entrance he was pushing into you earning another gasp from your lips that he greedily swallows. He gives you minimal time to adjust before he grunts and begins thrusting into you at a punishing pace. He pulls away from your lips to rub his cheeks along yours, the sensation making you melt into the mattress as his pheromones overtake your mind.

"Tell me you're mine. Whose doe are you?! Tell me!!", he snarls into your ear.

"Yours, I'm all yours Alastor. I'll only ever belong to you!", you cry out as tears begin streaming down your face. Your admission earns you his fingers playing with your clit again, sending you hurtling towards the edge again.

"Look at you, so perfect on my cock. I am going to claim this pussy in every way possible. Your womb is mine to fill with MY seed. You will make the perfect mother to my fawns." His pace turns sloppy as you clench hard around his shaft, your mind too fucked out to comprehend his words as you moan underneath him. Your nails rake down his back, raising angry lines along the contours of his musculature. His thumb presses hard into your clit, riding the edge between pleasure and pain. By this point your whole body was vibrating, every nerve ending lit up in white hot pleasure. "Cum for me Mon Cher. Cum for me and take my seed and don't you dare waste a drop!"

His words were your undoing, like the obedient little doe you were you came hard around him. With one final, powerful thrust he painted your walls white with his spend; your cunt avariciously drank his seed up.

Alastor collapsed on top of you, not daring to pull out yet. He meant it when he said not to waste a drop of his spend. He peppered tender kisses along your face and forehead as you started drifting off, utterly exhausted and fully sated.

As you fell into unconsciousness, Alastor lifted your hips and placed a pillow under them to prevent gravity from pulling his seed from your womb. Once he was satisfied with the angle he finally pulled out. He gave you one, final kiss on your forehead whispering "Mon Cher, sweet mama to my future fawns, I will never allow us to be parted." He nestled in next to you, placing a protective hand over your womb.

There was one detail you were wholly unaware of. Unbeknownst to you, the wine Alastor shared with you was laced with a potion; the same exact potion that allowed Lilith- a human sinner- to conceive Charlie.

Alastor was not a praying man, but that night he called on all the powers that be for his seed to take hold in your freshly fertile womb.

@stattikdemon

Thanks for being patient with me on this one!

[sweet-as-an-angel]

MW Reaction to You Leading Them On

Warnings: 18+, Implied Smut, Dark! Modern Warfare, Horny! Modern Warfare, Possessive Behaviour, Territorial Behaviour, Entitled Behaviour, Threatening Behaviour, Incel-Coded! Modern Warfare, Dub-Con Themes, Implied Age Gap (Price), Physical Restraining, Kidnapping, Breaking and Entering, Reader Being Held Hostage, Abuse of Physical Power, Slut Shaming, Pet Names, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Ghost

You’d only just noticed that Ghost stood at the front door of his apartment as if he were guarding it. Perhaps from your attempts at leaving.

You’d tried apologising to him for ‘stringing him along’ as long as you had, but you genuinely believed the two of you were just being friendly, bantering. Nothing more to it.

Obviously, Simon hadn’t seen it that way. You know that now as you watch his hand slip down the front of his sweatpants, palming his erection through them.

“Why don’cha come and show me how sorry you are with that pretty little mouth of yours.” He’s so monotone when he says it that you think he’s joking. His face tells you otherwise.

Of course, you’re speechless. But Simon cares little for your bewilderment. He looks down at you, his eyes narrowing. When you don’t come to him, he steps towards you.

“You know,” he says, coming closer. You step back. “Y’hear about pretty little things like you wandering into a man’s trap. Gettin’ ravaged.”

He’s before you, now, all but chest-to-chest. His eyes are black. Gone is the man you’ve been playfully flirting with these last few months; who you’d tried to push over the edge with your accidental grazes, your unintentional whines, the batting of your eyelashes.

None of that will save you now. His voice carries the weight of a dark star.

“How do you know this isn’t exactly where I want you.”

König

König was eerily silent upon your rejection.

You both stood in his kitchen where, after watching you cook, his heart swelling beyond reason and fathom, König had blurted out that he liked you. A lot.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t return those feelings, only viewing König as a good friend at most.

And now, he stands sentinel over a reaction you can’t possibly predict. Especially as his eyes, usually crinkled with a smile and laughter, seem lighter than usual, as if drained of all their warmth.

“I see,” is all König says. He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. He leans back against the kitchen counter, one hand gripping its rounded edge while the other remains free.

“I suppose I only have one option, then.”

König stands to his full height, approaching you, invading your personal space. He’s almost chest-to-chest with you, the bulk of his frame, the size of his biceps becoming glaringly obvious to you now as his shirt struggles to contain him, pulled taut over his musculature.

“I’ll just have to destroy you for any other man you try to whore around with.”

The way in which he says it suggests indifference; as if this is something he’s done or thought about a million times before. He presses you into the counter, hands coming to rest either side of you. He bears down on you, jaw clenched and teeth gritted behind straight lips.

“Then you’ll have no choice but to come limping back to me.”

Soap

“Oh aye, Bonnie? You’re gonna drop me, just like that?”

The look Johnny gives you is one of incredulous disbelief. Yet, in some way, you feel that he already knew you weren’t dedicated to the idea of a relationship with him. Even after all the time you’d spent together, the many nights you’d enjoyed sleeping over at his apartment, the many treats you’d baked for him; these were all things one could easily mistake for friendship.

You’d considered that perhaps tonight hadn’t been the best time to let him down, regardless of how gently you did it, considering it was your weekly movie night and it was his turn to host. 

You wish you’d listened to your inner self. Especially now as Johnny watches you, his eyes silver and sharp like a wolf’s. Without warning, he pounces on you, taking your wrists and planting them into the sofa cushions.

He lies atop you, heavy. Unmoving. Struggling only makes him grunt, a spark flashing in his eye.

“Tell you what,” he proposes. “If y’can still remember yer name by the time I’m through with you,” he presses his hips against yours. You gasp at the feeling of something heavy and pointed catching you. 

“We’ll see how willing y’are to try’n lead me astray.”

Valeria

“I see how it is,” she sighs, arms crossed over her front. She has you tied to a chair in her office, mouth gagged as you try to plead with her through your tears, your eyes. “You thought you could have your cake and eat it too. Thought you could have me while trying to fuck every other bitch that crosses your path.”

You’d dared to try and break things off with Valeria – ‘things’ referring to the one-sided pursual of your love by a certain cartel mommy. But alas, your efforts to repel her had only strengthened her resolve – her need – to have you.

“I’ve dealt with your type before,” she says, bringing her face down to your level. You swear her eyes are black, devoid of the slivers of humanity she still possesses – somewhere. The wrinkle in her nose forecasts disgust, an emotion you know first-hand does not bode well with Valeria.

“I thought you were different. Thought you’d know to shut up and take what’s handed to you – especially when you’ve worked yourself so hard to get it.” Valeria’s hand comes down between your legs, her fingers wrapping around the meat of your thigh. Gripping. Tight.

“Maybe the you I’m looking for is buried in there somewhere.” You can taste the venom in her voice as her scrutinising gaze roves over your bound form. She brings her mouth to your ear, intentional and without haste.

“And all I need to do is fuck it out of you.”

Price

You considered for a moment that John hadn’t actually heard you. What, with his lax demeanour and total lack of acknowledgement of your rejection.

Of course, you were glad he wasn't reacting poorly, but to see him not reacting at all worried you.

“I could have you hidden away somewhere–” Price starts, lighting his cigar and not even looking at you, “–where you’d be for my eyes only.”

The fact that he says it so casually almost has you believing that you’ve misheard him. You blink, wait for him to prove you wrong

Much to your shock, he does nothing to quell your growing anxiety. 

“Bet you’d like that – having the attention of an older man. ‘Specially since you’ve worked so hard to get it.”

Now, he looks at you, with eyes hard and sharp as diamond, half-lidded, a glare that could cut glass.

“Sitting on my lap, wearing those tight little shorts around me. Bet you wanted this to happen, didn’t’ya.”

When you don’t respond, too shocked to even conjure a response that could cover even a fraction of what John had said, he spoke for you.

“Well, Love, got anything to say for yourself?”

He didn’t give you time to answer. He took his legs off his desk and stood, staring at you.

“Better say it now since y’won’t be able to say much by the time I’m done with you.”

Horangi

“I just can’t believe you thought this would end well for you.” Hong-Jin paces before you as you sit on the edge of your bed, a hostage in your own home. Clearly, your rejection of his proposal to become his partner hadn’t ended well, hence the lock on your front door now lay broken, your security system disarmed.

“Especially after all I’ve spent on you, after all I’ve done to you – for you.”

His eyes never left you, staring you down. You tried not to shake, tried not to make a run for the door that, while open and tantalising in its beckoning for your escape, a steel model of a man patrolled it, patrolled you. Had you prisoner.

He stops before you, stands just inches from where your knees are jittering. His hands come down to grip them, giving them a squeeze. If it’s meant to be comforting, his intentions are lost in translation.

“Maybe I wasn’t clear enough with you,” he says. Offers you an out. “Maybe I’ve given you too much freedom.”

At that, he sinks to his knees before you and, without warning, parts your legs. You yelp, trying to pull away, but he keeps you tethered to the spot. His hands shoot to the top of your thighs and you can feel his fingers hooking over the sides of your bed shorts.

You try to reason with him, try to tell him you’ll do whatever he wants, so long as he doesn’t hurt you.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. Only want to show you–” he pulls the sides of your shorts down– “what you’re missing.”

Alejandro

The instigator of such a cold reception from Alejandro had been your refusal of a date with him. One which, unbeknownst to you, he’d been planning and psyching himself up for for the past week.

“I see.” Alejandro’s face was stern, thunder clouds rolling over him, making his features dark and pointed. The onset of a storm.

You didn’t know what to say, what to do, as Alejandro stood by your front door, dressed as if he was prepared to take you out right now.

You could see his jaw clench, his eye twitch.

“Is there someone else?” he asks.

You know that getting rejected solely because someone favours another over you is bad, but being rejected without competition is worse. You swallow, unsure of which option will infuriate Alejandro more. When you fail to answer, he sighs.

“You know, I always thought you were smarter than this, (Y/N).” His voice is low and intentional, like a plane flying too close to the ground. You look up, only to find him staring down at you, taking up all the space of your doorway with his hand perched on top of it like it’s nothing.

“But maybe I just have to teach you.”

You try to speak up for yourself, try to ask Alejandro what he’s playing at, but he shushes you. Steps into your home.

“I’ll have you crawling back to me by the night’s end, Cariño.” His words carry a weight that roots you in place. “I promise you that.”

Rodolfo

“Oh, I know,” he says with all the certainty in the world. You’re in his apartment, coming to break the news to him that you can’t accept his boyfriend proposal; the one he’d sent you in a five-page-long love letter.

You blink, befuddled. “You…you know?” Your brow raises. “You’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would.”

Rudy gives a hum, a smiling one. He puts his hands in his pockets, leans against the wall behind him.

“That’s because I know you don’t mean it.” He gives you little time to contemplate his statement before he’s descending upon you like a solar eclipse. “I just needed an excuse to get you somewhere we wouldn’t be…” He searches for the right word. “Disturbed.”

Strange, considering how he was disturbing you right now. He went on.

“I mean, how else was I going to get you here? If I’d just text you, you could shoot me down without coming anywhere near me. But now,” he’s close enough that his hands rest on your arms when he reaches for you, pulling him closer to him. You stumble on uncertain legs.

His grip is soft but you feel trapped, even if Rudy is one of the few people you’d feel comfortable being trapped with.

“Now,” he says, voice low. He pulls you into his chest, hard with years of training.

“I can show you how well I can please you.”

Graves

Graves is far more used to being the player, not the played. So when he discovered that you were, in fact, engaging in what could be construed as promiscuous behaviour with him without the intention of falling for his charms, he went silent. His stare hardened.

He’d never admit it, but he’d actually grown to like you in the time you’d been together. A lot.

“So that’s it?” he says. His voice, usually rounded with his southern charm and honeyed words, strikes you like an arrow, ice and sharp. “We have a good thing goin’ and you’re just gonna throw it all away?”

You’d tried to explain to him that no, that wasn’t what you meant when you’d suggested some time apart. You just wanted to explore other options, is all.

He gives a whiplash, humourless laugh.

“Can tell you’re lyin’ from a mile away. I know you want me, need me.”

When you roll your eyes, ready to back out of the conversation altogether, he’s on you, closing the gap between you and gripping you by your shoulders. He presses you against the wall.

“Fight it all you want, but we both know you’re just gonna come crawlin’ back, so why don’t I make this easy for ya.” His breath is hot against your cheeks, a bull on the prowl. His fingers dig into your shoulders and he gives you an impish smile. One that seems to substitute something much more insidious.

“I’ll have you begging me to fuck you by the end of the night,” he promises. “One way or another, whether you like it or not, m’gonna make you all mine.”

Gaz

Gaz has played the nice guy for far too long. This, he realises as he watches someone try to chat you up from across the bar, only to make the fatal mistake he himself had made: leaving you unattended.

Gaz wasted no time. He slithered through the crowded bar to you, taking your wrist in his hand on his way. He dragged you to a small room, dark and out of the way. He locked the door behind him.

“What was all that about, then.”

He faces away from you, but even through the dim light of the one, flickering light bulb above you, you could see his shoulders heaving, his hands clenched into fists as he awaits your response.

A friend, just some guy – it doesn’t matter. Gaz turns and bears down on you, backing you against the wall. Your hands fly up to his chest to try and quell him, to put some distance between the two of you. His heart pounds and so does yours, albeit for different reasons.

“You’re mine,” he says. He pens you in, his form broad and sculpted by horrors unknown. A hand comes to take your chin between its fingers, jerking your gaze to meet his. “Have I not worked hard enough to be able to have you yet.”

His voice cracks, though he shows no signs of crying. No, Instead he presses his front to yours. Something catches your thigh and you gasp.

“Maybe you just need reminding,” he tells you, “of how much I’ve done for you.” He rolls his hips against you, his hands coming to bolt themselves on the wall behind you, caging you.

“How much I can do.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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[bloobydabloob]

Holy shit I love your Dirk interpretations, it's so true and I could talk about this shit forever. I feel like another part of his character that people seem to forget (along with Roxy for some reason) is that he's from the future in solitude in an apocalyptic wasteland. I just see that part of his character always removed which is disappointing because I feel like that's a pretty big part, especially regarding his themes around technology, his brother's theme of Time, his own isolation, and how he plays in the vastness of the universe and spacetime.

Art I drew related to the subject because I like to respond to asks with art.

But absolutely. I certainly understand where the lack of discussion over his isolation + upbringing comes from, considering a majority of the fanbase that I have seen builds their ideas based on their own version of postcanon. I’m not entirely sure how that would be fixed, but certainly even in the somewhat recent past I would see a lot more content regarding his upbringing both literally and symbolically. I don’t have much to add regarding the things you’ve mentioned, because they just are what they are. Dirk being confined to a singular room left to him by a father figure he never met, in a future where the only other person left on the planet is someone he cannot pursue a relationship of because of himself, with purely 3 robots to keep him companion, one being an exact replica of his own brain who is *also* trapped inside a pair of glasses, is about as literal as it gets to me.

The contrast to me involving the flooded, organic world in comparison to the little speckle of Dirk’s apartment packed with the dude and his technics is not only a representation of his isolation and entrapment within himself, but also of his lack of control. I think his obsession with & themes of control are a direct product in the case of Dirk specifically *of* this kind of upbringing. His themes of technology are also related to his themes around control. So much of his character is actually revolved around this to me like so much. Dirk is so deeply disconnected from humanity in every way and so much of his character + symbolism is based around that.

It doesn’t even have to be about the symbolism or anything though. It’s just pretty *interesting* in the literal sense that he lives in the middle of the ocean in the future. There’s not only a lot to theorise on to do with his young life there, but on how it might affect him in the way he acts for the rest of his life. The latter part is probably what I see mentioned the most by people talking about Dirk regarding this, I’m surprised I don’t see more discussion on the former too though. I really ought to actually talk more about Homestuck stuff on here. I will do it myself.

Roxy & Dirk’s relationship is largely ignored though because there is a narrative a certain demographic spreads that Dirk resented and blamed Roxy for her interest in him, and thus too many people believe that their relationship was or would continue to be an abusive one. Realistically, I believe it’s important to acknowledge that the way Roxy treated Dirk regarding his homosexuality wasn’t right while still acknowledging the obvious amount of respect and admiration Dirk had for Roxy. I mean we have a huge piece of dialogue from their post trickster mode conversations on the quest beds from Dirk purely stating how he feels about Roxy that people completely ignore somehow. I think this usually happens to characters that are women though. I know everyone says it, but it is true. Jane gets the exact same treatment of boiling her down to solely her negative aspects. The things I see completely mischaracterising both of them are horrific.

I mean how much more explicit can it get that their relationship is obviously very important to Dirk? But I digress. I think the best or I should say “most interesting” interpretations of their relationship usually come from DirkRoxy shippers actually.

I would be interested to hear about Dirk’s relation to his brother’s theme of time though. I don’t have any thoughts on this and I don’t recall ever hearing anyone talk about it before. If you or anyone else would be willing to enlighten me I’d be thrilled.

[maliro-t]

The highlight of Veilguard for me is the relationship between Solas and Rook- and I don't know how to write about this on the internet without being acutely aware of other peoples' criticisms (such as there not being enough of it)- so I'll just say up top that I'm not actually intending this as a refutation of any of those. I just want to talk about my experience with the game and why I like it so much, which will probably make obvious where I disagree with some reoccurring critiques I've seen. *

The thing about Solas in this game is that he plays the role of the trickster perfectly. As much as Fen'Harel is a myth or a persona, and the stories we know of him invented or twisted, his role in Veilguard feels like it could slot in so, so easily with the myths, and in many ways directly parallels them. He is sinister and noble, monstrous and sympathetic, ruthless and compassionate, all at once. He spends the game trapped and humbled but can be almost gleefully condescending at times. He conflates outsmarting an enemy with being right, even as he plays the long-suffering martyr, tortured by countless mistakes. He falls easily into the role of advisor but is quick to note your foolishness. To sneer and declare the problem yours and yet still impose upon you an appraisal of your conduct.

But more than any of that, for most of the game, he's...passive. Dormant. He seems to make no moves, other than as a glorified consultant, despite starting as the main threat.

In Blood of Arlathan, when he finally rears his head again as major a player on the board, it's with a gallant offer of help. As an ally. He is exactly what you need, right when you need it, and you don't even have to ask him to be. And- because you don't have constant access to him, you maybe haven't even considered him an option!

He feels extremely intentionally sparing to me before this in service of a) making you think you're the one with power over him and b) causing you to forget he might contribute at all, so that when he finally does, it seems wholly benevolent. It comes in a moment where your goals are exactly aligned, and indisputably noble.

It's a waiting game. A classic of his, harkening back to stories we've heard time and again about Fen'harel and traps.

As Felassan tells it in the Masked Empire:

Fen'Harel was captured by the hunting goddess, Andruil. He had angered her by hunting the halla without her blessing, and she tied him to a tree and declared that he would have to serve in her bed for a year and a day to pay her back. But as she made camp that night, the dark god Anaris found them, and Anaris swore that he would kill Fen'Harel for crimes against the Forgotten Ones. Andruil and Anaris decided that they would duel for the right to claim Fen'Harel. He called out to Anaris during the fight and told him of a flaw in Andruil's armor just above the hip, and Anaris stabbed Andruil in the side, and she fell. Then Fen'Harel told Anaris that he owed the Dread Wolf for the victory and ought to get his freedom. Anaris was so affronted by Fen'Harel's audacity that he turned and shouted insults at the prisoner, and so he did not see Andruil, injured but alive, rise behind him and attack with her great bow. Anaris fell with a golden arrow in his back, badly injured, and while both gods slumbered to heal their wounds, Fen'Harel chewed through his ropes and escaped.

He goads his enemies into fighting each other for his benefit. Anaris, who had hunted him, succeeds with Fen'Harel's advice, exploiting a weakness he could only see with his aid. In turn, Anaris himself is left exposed. The victory goes to Fen'Harel, who has now dispatched two enemies at once and cleverly won his freedom.

He who was both Creator and Forgotten One. Who could walk amongst both as kin, and who in the end turned his back on them all.

Another tale:

The god Fen'Harel was asked by a village to kill a great beast. He came to the beast at dawn, and saw its strength, and knew it would slay him if he fought it. So instead, he shot an arrow up into the sky. The villagers asked Fen'Harel how he would save them, and he said to them, 'When did I say that I would save you?' And he left, and the great beast came into the village that night and killed the warriors, and the women, and the elders. It came to the children and opened its great maw, but then the arrow that Fen'Harel had loosed fell from the sky into the great beast's mouth, and killed it. The children of the village wept for their parents and elders, but still they made an offering to Fen'Harel of thanks, for he had done what the villagers had asked. He had killed the beast, with his cunning, and a slow arrow that the beast never noticed.

Felassan is everywhere in the Crossroads, in memories, in regrets, in notes that speak to a time you can barely fathom and traces of a friendship that is never once brought up by Solas directly (to my knowledge at least). I think Felassan serves a lot of purposes; he's a window into history, into Solas' mind and ideals, someone who challenges moments of ruthlessness but is loyal, an advisor who keeps Solas grounded even as he pushes him to become something larger than he is, a lingering notion of a loss that you can never really see the full scale of, and so on. And I think, too, that he's written carefully to be a meaningful presence from the rebellion without explicitly spoiling what eventually happens to him, which I wouldn't be surprised if was a legit consideration made for people who might go back and read the Masked Empire after dav lol- in the same way that Trespasser only really spoils the book if you already know what happens.

But for me, every note signed with his name is almost a tongue-in-cheek warning about what's to come. Felassan. A slow arrow, fired apparently mockingly into the sky, only to strike true when it's least expected. A solution executed with neither kindness nor explanation, serving first and foremost the interests of the one who fired it. Felassan's presence in the game ever so slightly encodes a reminder of who you're actually dealing with and what his core tenants are, whether as an ally or an adversary. You only know if you know, but it doesn't seem an accident to me that this reoccurring name of a general who shaped himself in honor of the Dread Wolf's unorthodox cleverness is so key to these traces of Fen'Harel's past, despite, again, never directly being discussed.

Anyways, to Rook. First, I gotta give a shoutout to Bryony Corrigan, whose voice I used for mine- she honestly made the game for me, especially in moments where I felt unsure of it. I love Rook, I love how they're written, and I love how they're performed. While a complete blank slate protagonist can be really fun, I find putting myself as a player in conversation with limitations given by the game really fun and interesting, and often surprising! And I do feel there's still plenty of flexibility.

My perspective on the relationship between Rook and Solas in Veilguard is specific to how I played of course, and I haven't seen other versions of their dynamic at this point to compare so I can't speak to them. But my experience was as such:

I didn't come into the game wanting to intentionally antagonize him. If he rose at me, I rose at him- and those moments of tension were really, really fun. But I tried to accept what he gave me with a fairly open mind. Skepticism, sure, but also the knowledge that ultimately, we both wanted Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain gone, and he knew them better than I did.

It was really gratifying, then, to see our rocky partnership evolve over time into what seemed like a genuine respect. But it didn't really feel straightforward to me either. For example, the conversation before Weisshaupt held a lot of weight for me: listening to him tell that chilling tale about undermining an enemy with persistent laughter and finding that 'Do whatever it takes to remove those who oppose you' was something we came out aligned on was.... There was an element of foreboding to that. Like, I had found myself actively trying to impress him here! And feeling good when it seemed like I had, but uneasy about how I had done it, even when I agreed with what I'd said.

And of course, after that comes Arlathan. Solas' big hero moment. This is the point in the game where our alliance finally felt comfortable to me. The conversation in the fade after was the first time that it really seemed like we were on even ground. And the game- not just Solas- told me here outright that I had earned his respect! After that, I didn't consider betrayal a possibility for a moment. Honestly, I barely even considered him an antagonist at all, because he had become a partner instead! I was expecting something clever down the line, but I wasn't worried about it hurting me. Our disagreements had been set aside, and the goal of his that I had initially opposed had been so thoroughly usurped I had forgotten that he was even pursuing it. And yes, that's perhaps naivety on my part, but I was so distracted by that not at all being the main plot that I forgot that it actually still was. Which is the whole point, right? He waits until your head is turned the other way to strike.

All this to say, my reaction when you kill Ghilan'nain and Solas uses the instability of the Veil to force you into his prison went beyond shock and confusion. It wasn't until well into his villain monologue that I was able to accept that he had betrayed me at all- having been thus far trying desperately to convince myself that the sequence I was seeing was Elgar'nan playing mind games in retaliation, and not actually Solas.

That prison moment is his Slow Arrow. You are Anaris to Elgar'nan's Andruil, the dagger the chink in her armor, and Ghilan'nain's death the golden arrow striking you in the back.

The wolf chews its leg off to escape the trap.

And I should say, I was coming at this all from the meta perspective of someone who loves Solas and empathizes with him and has never seen him as irredeemable or evil- and I, the player, who believed that all game and is ultimately satisfied with the resolution I got- felt hoodwinked as fuck in this moment lmao!!

There's a line in the prison that Varric has about it being easier for Solas to play the villain when he knows he's causing harm- so I do think he plays up his sinisterness here on purpose. But it's such a slap in the face coming straight off of "You have earned the respect of the Dread Wolf." A true and profound betrayal, at least for me.

And it doesn't stop there! His trickster maneuvers and half-truths aren't done until the credits roll. I love that when you meet again, he is nothing but apologies. He makes every concession- that Varric was a good man, that every victory in this fight has been yours, that he needs you and not the other way around, that he was wrong and made mistakes and betrayed people who never deserved it. And of course, we know from experience at this point that this won't stop him from doing it again anyways. But he never holds back from placing the blame on himself. Agreeing with you. Telling you you're right, and that Elgar'nan must be stopped. He only ever says things that are true. Things that are aligned with your point of view.

"[The veil] will never come down by my hand." Well, yes. Because it will fall on its own when Elgar'nan is dead. You won't hardly have to do anything at that point, Solas, will you?

It doesn't matter if Rook isn't falling for it, because if they don't accept his partnership, they lose! That's it! It's the same as it was at the start, but with the added sting of knowing it probably won't work out in your favor this time.

I remember before launch John Epler saying that Solas sees himself in Rook, which really echoes throughout the whole game for me. There are some ways you could say Solas seems opposite to Rook- and of course this can wax and wane depending on roleplaying choices, but the central conceit of Rook as Varric's recruit is that they are a specialist in being willing to act. And on the surface at least, that's kind of counter to Solas' Slow Arrow, right? Blunt force versus delayed gratification. But not entirely! Because every backstory we have for Rook revolves around a kind of heroism that is unorthodox enough to have left you ultimately punished for it. Like yeah, yeah, you saved some lives.... The optics were kinda bad though, so maybe you could go on a sabbatical for a while?

Rook is, from the start, an unconventional and unsung hero, admonished by some for ruffling feathers that they shouldn't have in pursuit of a noble goal. Not unlike Fen'Harel.

I find, too, that there's kind of a nesting doll of parallels around Rook and Solas as foils that the whole story hinges on:

We see Solas, his regrets plastered on every wall, each of them tied to Mythal. At every turn he seems to warn her that this is not the right path, but he follows her down it anyways, until he is left with nothing but an overwhelming need to fix what they have broken.

We see Felassan, who still wears Mythal's vallaslin on his face, challenging Solas' judgement and methods, but still standing by him through the rebellion, after the Veil, for however many thousands of years they slept. Ultimately, in the Masked Empire, the thing that makes him falter is his admiration for someone else's pursuit of freedom. His admiration for Briala.

"I suspect you'll hate this, but she reminds me of-"

Solas is Rook. Solas is Briala. Upstarts, flawed defenders, people who are made into leaders because of their willingness to fight for something. Who see injustice and cannot rest.

Solas is Felassan, the devoted general. One who pushes against his orders but cannot deny them. Someone who loves the cause, but more than that is dedicated to the person who champions it. A voice of reason who, in the end, turns away.

Solas is Mythal, a pragmatic leader, responsible for uncountable deaths. Someone who has relied on partners and power structures that have led her down a dark path, partners whose mistakes in their pursuit of power have become her own. Partners who in the end betray her.

Solas is trapped in his regrets because they are not all his. He struggles with having been failed and with how he has failed others, and in his mind the two become conflated. He carries these contradictory roles on his back- perpetrator and victim, betrayer and betrayed- and cannot see how to overcome them. He is ultimately freed by Mythal's absolution because the foremost factor in his crusade is not belief but guilt.

The ends have to justify the means, because there is no other way he can live with himself. And at every step, he is trying to redeem Mythal as much as he is trying to redeem himself.

He did not want a body, but she asked him to come. He wanted to give wisdom, not orders. I will always follow where you go.

He left a scar when he burned her off his face.

It was all for her. It was always for her.

Solas' duplicity is unending, but so is his devotion. And there is such an earnestness to a Rook, always betrayed, that sees and empathizes with that and uses it to free him.

* I will say that during the game I was definitely wishing you could show your hand to him a little more and press him about his memories prior to the endgame (and separate from this I have quibbles with the impact of some of those memory reveals- like wrt the delivery just not feeling as weighty as I would like. The payoff is absolutely still there in the end, it just felt to me like they were too nonchalantly getting a ton of info out that had to be established moving forward, despite these being like earthshattering reveals that people have Correctly (!!!!) theorized about for up to 15 years). That being said, in retrospect it would have lessened the impact of the finale to have pressed Solas about, for example, his relationship to Mythal prior to absolutely pulling the rug out from under him with it at the 11th hour. And additionally, it's a structural nightmare because you can uncover the memories at almost any point in the story, and you don't have constant access to Solas to chat with him about them. Which you shouldn't imo, in service to the story being told!! But it's also true that early on I found scenes with Solas super gripping, and scenes with my team often...not. And that was initially disheartening, but developed positively over time on all fronts once the game didn't have to worry about setting things up. So, I did wish for more here at first, but I've revised my opinion now that I can see the whole arc.

[centaurianthropology]

One thing that I think a lot of Disco Elysium meta misses (likely because a lot of it is very clearly written by young Americans writing from an intensely American-centric cultural perspective without even really realizing it) is that one of the singular and central themes of the game is massive-scale generational trauma in a home that is economically collapsing as its resources and people are being drained by an occupation.  People have noted that no one tries to help Harry, despite the fact his mental illness is incredibly obvious to everyone around him.  He tells Kim that he completely lost his memory, and Kim politely asks him to focus on the work.  He tells Gottlieb that he had a heart attack, and Gottlieb tells him that if he’s still alive it couldn’t have been that bad.  That he’ll drop dead sooner or later, but then so does everyone.

And that’s the most important thing: so does everyone.  Look at Martinaise.  Look at the world in which Harry lives.  It is not our own, but it is adjacent to ours.  More specifically, it is clearly adjacent to the states of the Eastern Bloc: overtaken and occupied by a faraway government that clearly doesn’t care about Revachol or its people.  And that is obvious in every tired face, every defeated citizen, everyone trying to eke out a little happiness or meaning in spite of the overwhelming trauma and damage around them.  The buildings are still half-destroyed.  The bullet holes are still in the walls.  The revolution was decades before, but it still feels to the people there like a fresh wound.  The number of men of Harry’s generation who are not alcoholic or otherwise deeply fucked up are very few.  Some, like Kim, hide it better, but the deeper you dig into his history, the more you realize how damaged Kim is.  He’s more than a little trigger happy, and hates that about himself, but he is a product of his environment: Kim’s entire life is seeing people he cared about shot and killed, so his instinct now is to shoot first himself, to protect those few people left who still matter to him.

Harry is not unique in his trauma.  He is a distillation of an entire culture of people who tried to rise up and make something beautiful, and were instead routed and occupied.  He is trapped between the occupation and the people on the ground, along with all the rest of the RCM.  Their authority comes from the occupying government, but it is implied that they were formed out of the remnants of the citizens militia which sprung up from Revachol itself as a way to try to mitigate some of the horrors being committed on its streets.  The Moralintern sure as hell wasn’t going to get their hands dirty, so they happily conscripted (and therefore could better control) this group, who are only recognized in certain places, and whose authority mostly amounts to giving out fines.  The RCM is corrupt, but it is corrupt in the same way its culture is.  Bribes are considered standard with them, not a moral failing, but a necessity, so long as those bribes are correctly logged as ‘donations’.  It’s how the RCM stays afloat, and the rest of Revachol completely understands that.  Everyone would take a bribe if it meant they kept eating.  Everyone would take a little under-the-table money if it meant keeping a roof over their heads.  The officersof the RCM certainly don’t make enough to see a doctor.  They have an in-house lazarus, and if he can’t fix them they just die.  Mental health care?  What mental health care?  Harry doesn’t get it for the same reason no one else does: it doesn’t really seem to exist.  There are no counselors, no psychologists, no psychiatrists.  How would they even start?  If the world is what is broken, if everyone is suffering a similar catastrophic amount, it makes sense that Harry’s trauma would simply get rolled up with all the rest.  Kim asks him to get on with the job because Harry’s suffering is not remarkable in Revachol.  He is one of an entire generation who have an astronomical number of orphans from the revolution, and so many younger people are left more or less orphans as their parents drink themselves into oblivion like Cuno’s father.  So Harry’s truly unique attribute is embodying all that trauma, having it all inside of him, filling him to bursting.

To really engage with the themes of the game, engaging first and foremost with the reality of Revachol is imperative.  Imposing our own reality onto Revachol, particularly if coming from an American perspective (which tend to have the habit of both viewing the world through an American lens and not realizing they’re doing it because they’ve never experienced a different lens), will always feel shallow to me because of this.

All that is to say, I would love to hear some more explicitly European meta about this game, and especially Eastern European meta.  If anyone can point me to some good, juicy essays from that perspective, I would be grateful!

[kiame-sama]

Not gonna lie, Drider!Rook made me think about the story ‘The Most Dangerous Game’ and I can just picture him wanting to hunt Reader since he’s never encountered such an exotic and unique prey like a Human, as he’s vibrating from excitement about how his newest ‘Prey’ shall fair against him

He probably read stories about Humans in his youth and wondered before they went extinct, how they were able to survive without gills, scales, claws, wings, poison, etc or even without magic

Because Reader uses hidden traps and misleading tracks, Rook calls her ‘Mademoiselle Trickster’ (Mademoiselle is a title for an Unmarried Women in French) and felt his heart skip a beat seeing Reader use her intelligence, cunning and trickery to get the upper hand over him

Only he’s not going to eat or kill her, rather he just wants to feel the thrill of the hunt by chasing an endangered species (He has no intention to harm her)

But here’s a twist, the hunt is actually a common mating practice for his species of Drider (Or just his family) when it comes to finding a mate

There’s not really a lot of information about Rook’s family as he’s quite secretive about himself (Which I find ironic because he wants to know everything when it comes to his ‘Muses’)

(I know the shadows over his eyes don't make sense given the pose and the angle of the lighting, but I liked the way they looked all darkened and menacing, so I kept the eye shadows for my own aesthetic.)

(Rook waiting in his web on the Pomefiore ballroom ceiling. He does this to observe the other students and document their habits and will even do this web building around campus in heavy traffic areas/popular gathering spots to stalk others more effectively. Vil will often throw things at Rook if he sees the Drider has built yet another web on the Pomefiore ceiling. His dorm robes aren't well suited for the upsidedown life, but he makes due and uses magic to keep his favorite hat in place on his head.)

- Rook would absolutely love hunting the little Human Trickster if only to experience the thrill of The Hunt. He wouldn't dare harm a hair on his sweet Human's head, but he would absolutely love a back and forth of Hunter and Hunted with them just for fun. He may not tell the little Human it is just for fun, seeing as he wants an authentic experience and a good hunt. Once he eventually catches his Human- and he will catch them at some point- he will be practically bouncing from the thrill of it all and only then will he inform the terrified Human that this was a game and not an actual hunt. Were it an actual hunt, they would not have seen a single hair of the Drider before he struck.

- There is little as exhilarating to Rook than a hunt for prey that knows how to fight back and evade him. Any traps his Human sets, no matter how flimsy or obvious, will only thrill Rook becuase he loves the idea of being hunted by his own prey. To flip the tables on such a skilled Huntsman only makes the game more fun. There is nothing quite like the thrill of chasing down dangerous game and it certainly gets Rook's blood burning hot and pumping.

- As Rook is a Golden Huntsman Drider, he doesn't often participate in web-building in regards to hunting his prey. He will build webs for many reasons in many places, but rarely ever will he build a web to be used in an actual hunt. Huntsman are a spider species known for wandering, tracking down prey, and foraging when needed, Rook is no different and is a voracious predator when it comes to the true hunting and gathering of prey. Naturally, this does mean all of his family shares this drive to hunt. Hunting is ingrained in a Huntsman's DNA so naturally they will also hunt prospective mates.

- Like their spider counterparts, male Huntsman Driders- upon locating a suitable mate- have a tendency to lay their legs in substrate and shuffle them back and forth to make a rustling or rattling sound depending on the substrate. Usually a hunter would not be keen to reveal themselves, but this sound can draw in curious prey and curious mates who are seeking the Drider making the sound. Part of this mating display is hunting their mates down and drawing them in with the sound before springing. Naturally, when they have their mates in their grasp, they don't let go easily as Huntsman Spiders are known to cling tightly to prey and even predators to stop themselves from being shaken off or dislodged from their quarry.

[the-writer-arrived]

Inappropriate Behavior in the Workplace

Synopsis: you decide to give your lover a hand in his work as a bartender, helping out as a waitress for the busy friday night. little did he know that your intentions were far from pure...

Characters: diluc ragnvindr; gallagher.

Warnings: afab!fem!reader; explicit smut; established relationship; unprotected sex (please use protection in real life!); semi-public sex (you fuck in the empty tavern); soft men becoming rough men; spanking; reader is a brat; reader wears a skirt; your man becomes a horny mess for you good luck dealing with him; headcanons + a drabble.

A/N: diluc 🤝 gallagher -> hot guys that work at a bar (and fuck their lover there post-work hours) that make my brain go brrrrrr.

<<This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.>>

He should have known. He should have listened to his gut feeling that you were up to no good, when you were suddenly very insistent about helping him out at the bar that friday.

But nooooo, you had to bat those little doe eyes of yours at him, like the purest, sweetest angel that you are for him to give in to your whims.

After all, that would mean spending more time with his beloved woman, instead of having her wait for him all alone back home.

Oh, if only he could look past the rose-tinted lens of love and adoration to realize the perfect trap you had prepared for him...

There were essentially three main situations that should have given you away, but that fool (/affectionate) is too much in love with you to have realized in time:

The first being your insistance of wanting to work with him in one of the busiest nights of the week. Your reason? He's been too busy lately with his other duties, so you wanted to at least be beside him... (Critical hit in his heart).

The second, your unusual choice of clothing - a skirt. Now, he isn't one to tell you what you should or shouldn't wear, he's simply surprised by it, considering it's a rare sight for you to use it. And hey, you looked absolutely beautiful with it.

The third and most obvious one - your smile. But not any smile. The one you specifically have on your lips when you have some mischief up your sleeve. Like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspected bird.

When everything clicked inside his head, it was already too late...

You had gone behind the bar to help him clean the counter, the rush of customers dying down for the moment. While distracted wiping a glass, he accidentaly bumped into you, causing you to drop the empty cans left by some customers.

He quickly apologized, but you reassured it was fine, which really was! (He unbeknownst set the scene for the grand finale of your nefarious plan).

You, helpful as always, bent down to pick up the cans without thinking twice, causing the hem of your skirt to raise up a bit too much. Your man, gentleman as he is, was about to warn you to be careful, but any coherent thought was thrown out of the window.

It was a just glimpse. He could argue that it was just the work of his dirty imagination. A trick of the light. Anything.

But no. He knew exactly what he saw. And the wink that you gave him as you sauntered away was all the confirmation he needed to know he wasn't mistaken.

You're not using any panties.

You're working in his establishment, looking stunning as usual, with your pussy hidden only by your skirt.

Oh he feels light headed... due to all the blood going straight to his crotch.

It all makes sense now, your behavior, your choice of clothing... And now you're suddenly taking care of the tables, knowing that he can't leave the bar anymore with the big tent in his pants.

...Is this punishment for not paying attention to you the past few days? If so, he never knew you could go to such lengths to teach him a lesson...

Still, you should know that your lover isn't one to take things laying down. So, you better enjoy yourself making him squirm while you still have the advantage...

And enjoy yourself you do, much to his dismay.

He follows you with his eyes like a hawk, mind swirling with a myriad of feelings: annoyance, for being teased so cruely like this; worry, that someone might accidentaly see what they shouldn't; impatience, for the damn clock to stop dragging its hands and reach closing time already; and arousal, for having being tricked into a situation which you are the one in control.

As the night goes slowly by and the number of customers begins to decrease, the tension between the two of you grows more and more, like a volcano about to erupt.

Until finally, at long last, it's time to close the tavern.

It's time to show you the consequences of your actions.

----------

After bidding his employees a good night, he wastes not a single second more, locking the door behind him as the last inch of his patience snaps.

You're wiping one of the tables, pretending not to hear his steps coming closer to you from behind, a shiver of anticipation running down your spine. Before you can utter a word, you see his shadow falling on you, like a predator ready to pounce on his cornered prey.

He takes the dirty rag from your hand and throws it away, wrapping a strong arm around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. His other hand goes to grab your chin, turning your head to the side before stealing your breath with a kiss.

Actually, it can't even be called a kiss, but more like a two pairs of lips mashed together. It's messy, desperate and intense, his tongue invading your mouth with the objective of claiming every single part of you. Your lover's touch is rough, but not without care. Even when he's lost amidst the fiery passion that has consumed his usual composure, he never fails to make you feel loved.

As intoxicating as this moment feels, the need of oxygen is still a necessary thing for the both of you, prompting him to finally release your lips with a gasp for air. But not a second later he latches his mouth on your neck, nibbling, kissing and licking the tender flesh that soon becomes warm by his attention.

"Do you have any idea of what you did to me today?" His question is a rhetoric one, aware that your ability to think straight isn't working anymore to string an answer. "What am I saying, of course you do. In fact, you've came up with your little plan wanting things to turn out this way, right?"

Your only response is a moan when he grinds his clothed erection on your behind. Honestly, you didn't expect your plan to work so well like this, witnessing a side of him you're not used to, but still very turned on.

"Walking around all pretty like this, serving customers and helping the other employees out, with no panties on..." You let out a gasp of surprise when you're suddenly pushed down on the table, your skirt flipped out to expose your bare private parts, your cheeks flaring up as he caresses your buttock. "...Who knew I had such a lewd girl for a lover."

The harsh slap on your ass forces a loud yelp out of you, the pain of the sting mixing with pleasure that makes you shuddering. The sight of the plush skin jiggling at his action leaves him hypnotized and with his pants even tighter.

"I was tense the whole night, you know. Worried that some scumbag would try something funny and end up seeing what is for my eyes only." Another slap, now on the other asscheek, and he notices your pussy glistening with arousal at each hit. "You're getting even wetter... You're enjoying this, huh?"

A pitful whine of his name paired with the teary look you throw at him is enough to convince him to give up on his previous idea of dragging out this teasing and go straight to what you both have been desiring all evening.

Your lover grumbles in frustration at his vexing belt and pants, pushing the garment down enough to free his throbbing cock from its confines, the tip angry red and with precum.

You're so pent up with need that he doesn't even need to prep you further, seeing that you spread your folds yourself for him, impatient to have your wish fulfilled at long last. So, doing both of you a favor, he doesn't waste any more time and slides himself in, eyes rolling back at the warmth enveloping him.

"Fuck, so tight darling..." He massages your waist, trying to get you to ease up a little. You feel so fucking good, he fears he won't last at all.

His hips pick up the pace as your moans and pleas grow to a crescendo, your voice like a siren that beckons him to dive head first into this addicting chase for carnal pleasure, enhanced by the love shared between you two.

Sooner than he would have preferred, your lover reaches his peak, head thrown back and hips grinding hard against your behind, his cum filling you to the brim. You can feel your climax coming as well, his orgarsm bringing your own...! Until his cock suddenly slides out of you.

"W-Wha- Why did you-- ah!" Your words are interrupted by two fingers of his intruding your fluttering hole, him putting his weight on your back as he shushes you.

"You didn't think you get what you want so easily, did you love?" His voice is husky in your ear, fingers pushing his release back inside your pussy. "No, no, you've been a bad girl tonight. And bad girls don't get to cum now."

You whine in protest, attempting to wiggle your hips to get any sort of friction as you feel the waves of your impending climax waning.

"Please, love, please let me cum, please! It's been so long since I've felt your touch, I need you!"

His breath hitches when he listens to your begging, not expecting the neediness in your tone. It seems like his busy schedule the past few days took a heavier toll on you than he thought. He sighs, his heart is too soft for you to continue his original pay back.

"Alright, you win... But know this is the only time I'll let you off the hook for your little stunt, you hear me?"

You nod your head quickly, thank you's and promises to be a good girl falling easily from your tongue. However, you knew none of what either of you said will remain, you will continue being your teasing little self and he will continue letting your brat behavior slide, because that's the kind of couple you are.

But that's the least of your concerns right now, your mind returning to the foggy state of pleasure as you continue your inappropriate actions in many different surfaces of his bar, adding yet another secret item to your list of things one shouldn't do in the workplace.

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

red diluc and gallagher banners (smut) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)

[impishjesters]

Jax x Reader w/depression/suicidal tendencies

warning(s): mentions of depression/suicidal behavior/tendencies, nothing graphic though, mentions of morbid/dark humor note: it's only mentioned that he has feelings for you, whether romantic or platonic is left up to the reader. A/N: I think this is the fastest I've ever wanted to write for something utterly new to me, usually it takes a while of being into a series or liking a character to wanna write something. This was...less than twelve hours? This was probably the most self-indulgent thing I've written in a while.

Nobody was safe from Jax’s pranks, including you—regardless of how much he found himself gradually enjoying your company.

It’s actually a right of passage at this point that every new person (as rare as it is) who shows up is subjected to some awful prank to gauge just how much of an easy or difficult target they’ll be.

You handle the pranks with ease. Sure it can be annoying, but there’s little that can seemingly “kill” you here.

Which is a shame really—well, only slightly.

Your therapist would’ve probably found it a good thing, trying to off yourself in a digital world where sleeping and eating were no longer required likely meant the inability to die.

Not in a traditional sense anyway.

You’re the only one ballsy enough to prank Jax back, which isn’t easy but when a prank is successful? Oh, it’s worth it to see his reaction.

There’s an unspoken prank war back and forth, but typically the other’s are the subject of your guys’ pranks. Somehow it feels more rewarding with the joint effort.

It's not often, but sometimes Jax's pranks will go a step too far and trigger something unpleasant. He's not really sure why you just walk off like that, those pranks don't make him feel as satisfied for whatever reason.

Once a special type of friendship grows between the two of you, the pranks lessen—not entirely though—nah he loves the unsuspecting reactions of a prank you didn’t see coming.

The pranks become less hostile and more casual—he’s got a reputation to keep after all, regardless of how he feels about you.

The initial reaction to someone being told there was no way out was to panic, you however, didn’t..well not outright. Your initial reaction is dark humor—even with the whole censorship thing.

Ragatha is the only one initially disturbed/worried over your dark sense of humor, which should be expected from one of them since they’ve been there longer.

Jax is aware of your morbid sense of humor and often plays along with it, especially in the beginning—later in the friendship though? Yeah, there’s no noticeable physical change, but he’s only a tad worried.

When not tormenting the other’s Jax stuck with you, or vice versa.

After the attempted drowning and standing (willingly) in harm’s way of one (or three) of the rides, Jax keeps your bedroom key closer in hand than the others.

And honestly? Ragatha doesn’t even blame him. You aren’t distant from them, but you do tend to favour Jax’s company. Regardless of her feelings about him as a person, it becomes obvious that he feels something less hostile towards you compared to them.

It takes a while before you finally confess to Jax that prior to being trapped in this digital hell, you were medicated for depression/suicidal tendencies. And while the digital world took away things like needing sleep and food, it didn’t get rid of the thoughts or urges.

Now—had this been someone else telling him all this? He’d be very uncaring and probably make a nasty “joke”, but because it’s you? He’s treading into foreign territory here when it comes to emotions.

There’s not really anything he can say that would make you feel better, but he does show a more rare tender side, offering to be there whenever you need him. Just to backpedal like a tsundere and say that he won’t always be free ( a lie, the fuck else does he have to do?), but he’ll try and make time for you during those moments.

He doesn’t do some pinky promise bullshit, I mean he can and would, but he doesn’t expect his offer and attempts to do that much (words of promise aren’t on the same level as a prescription drug after all).

But if being around his rude ass self and doing the occasional nice *gag* gestures of like, hugging or whatever helps you, he’ll do it—just, not with others around obviously. Again, man has a reputation.

From then on Jax is more aware of where you are around him at all times, not in a suffocating way though. Well, not intentionally, he has his moments. But he’s trying, again this is new territory for him.

Jax makes it his unspoken, personal goal to make sure you don’t tread the line of becoming abstracted.

Bonus (fluff)

Jax will make an attempt not to immediately recoil from your touch when others are present.

I’m not talking “Whoops, sorry to bump into you”, I’m talking about grabbing onto his arm or being in his personal bubble because you need something grounding or whatever.

More often than none his immediate reaction is to just use you to lean on, elbow or arm resting on top of your head to give you some contact and pressure. (He does it out of habit even when you don't need it.)

Sure he probably looks like an ass to others, but after a while, they sort of just get used to it since you never bring up being offended by the act.

But in private? Yeah, sure shoot, just don’t expect him to put any effort into returning anything. Maybe the drape of an arm or his legs, but if it’s really bad? He’ll lay or sit there while you cling to him like a koala.

Jax actually finds it kinda funny how tightly you hold on whenever he gets up.

“Wow, you really holdin’ on there.”

[austinsastrology8991]

> MC ASPECTS < How you renowned around town “You make your own reality. And once you’ve done it, apparently, everyone’s of the opinion it was all so fucking obvious.” - Logan - Fucking - ROy

!!parental advisory explicit!!

MC Aspecting Sun - “rome, I think you're a super talented superstar and I love you” - Shiv Roy : Its hard not to notice you, you got a poise of regality, and you work the public sphere with ease; you put yourself out there and you get a lot of attention from onlookers - and it makes you one of a kind. you are someone with dignity and maybe too much self respect for some, to give you the credit that you do deserve > because no one does it quite like you - high key a dominant force in any room you enter - wolf of wall street vibes and lets be honest you are not above having a party at the office... and paying hookers to make it more cool...... you do the most and its a vibe vibe MC Aspecting Moon - "They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had, and add some extra just for you" - Therapist in succession You know how to put people at ease, and your basically a professional therapist at this point. You can lighten up anyones mood or piss everyone off depending on how you feel. And this understanding of psychology really benefits you; because people want to treat you right, so you can give them some insight as to why they have a mental breakdown every 5 minutes (this generations daily cycle) your like a dog that lives in a hair-salon and everyone wanna get a cuddle from it/he/she/thing/you

MC Aspecting Mercury - “Information, Greg, it’s like a bottle of fine wine. You store it, you hoard it, you save it for a special occasion and then you smash someone’s face with it.” - Tom Wambsgams When you stfu people are wondering what your thinking. because somehow. someway. you've taken control of the conversation, and whatever you say is taken with heavier consideration then the average person. However that does not mean you get your way, it just means we listen to you the most - easily the most valuable insight comes from you guys, and your perceived as. a hustler. no wonder your careful with ur words because you dont really care about getting the right answer in the known, if that ultimately inteferes with your master plan you'll just stay quiet - because you know how to navigate the world with words, and your aware that ultimately the final word - the best word - is the deciding factor of what we do MC Aspecting Venus - "Here’s the thing about being rich, okay? It’s fucking great. It’s like being a superhero, only better. You get to do what you want — the authorities can’t really touch you. You get to wear a costume, but it’s designed by Armani and it doesn’t make you look like a prick." - Tom Wambsgams Beauty pageants. Everyone is interested in you, because your beautiful and your graceful, and you'd make a fine edition to the list of exes that everyone has. So besides the fact that your fuckable, you know how to charm people so easily and thats why you get so much attention, and its positive unless your insecure about how attractive you are.... which is a real thing... and id say just get that plastic surgery or stfu and find some real solutions. i mean has anyone ever tried to tell a beautiful person, that they beautiful.... its exhausting... and then they just look for someone else (more beautiful) to get that validation. its a death trap!!! dont fall for that bs... but damn yo fine ass better get used to being a fine ass or someone gonna commit a crime on yo ass MC Aspecting Mars - "I got a track record from founding one of the most exciting new media brands in the world. And what do you got? Track marks from shooting junk? Thanks for coming down. It was great to meet you." - Lawyrence Yee Unfuckwitable - you embody the underdog - and i mean an under dog thorugh and through; youll bark at anything that pisses yall offf, and thats why people watch they step around yall, no one wanna get bitten by da big dog with a small dog complex. but your fierce and people try their best to match your aggressive energy just to save face for themselves - meanwhile your just more pissed off that you always gotta show yo teeth to anyone you talk to lol. Your competitive and act like crackhead that knows karate. everyone is low key intimidated by ya, and you know it

MC Aspecting Jupiter - "Most things don't exist. the ford motor company hardly exists. It's just a time saving expression for a collection of financial interests." - Logan RoyEveryone likes you, and sometimes you don't even understand why, and thats just another reason to like you. You show a geniune uninterest in any boring mundane activities > and this lack of care for bullshit makes it so that when you do show an interest for something > you've somehow convinced everyone in the room that your enthusiasm defines whats enjoyable. and this discernment makes others believe that your the new budha for socio-economic observations . I respect it. and you did it without even realizing, like thats a feat initself, and you guys are 100 feet tall in everyone elses eyes because you got a name fo yo self MC aspecting Saturn - "the actual fact is we're persuading more and more shareholders everyday that we offer them just a slightly better chance for them to make a little bit more money on the dollar…and that's all that this is…." - Stewy Hosseini The boss is here and now everyone gotta actually do something productive. you guys have respect, and people know that if they don't come at you correctly, then you'll correct it for them, and no one wanna be daddied by the king kong daddy. Your life is defined by hardships and this is the most noticeable trait about yall, and it has molded you into a gus fring. A stone cold killer. You don't have to say much but the weight of your presence in itself, is so much pressure, that everyone wanna ask for more time, but no one wanna be scolded by yall so we just stfu and deal with it MC Aspecting Uranus - "Nothing is a line. Everything, everywhere is always moving. Forever. Get used to it." - Logan Roy Who is they? who are we? why can they get away with acting like a complete fucking retard? Well they don't 'get away with it' they just fucking do it. I mean the balls on ya'll is undeniable, but the audacity and the concept of why. well no one knows and I don't think you do either. But you literally change the game wherever you go, because you do ridiculous shit just to make fun of reality, and it really does expose how much of a cult we all live in; since we all about our own rituals of bullshit. I applaud the audacity but everyone gets nervous around your unpredictable nervous explosions - your like a charged creeper; youve been shocked by something and now you just have to explode and ruin everyones buildings

MC Aspecting Neptune - "Climate said I was going down. Climate said I should just step aside. I guess I'm a climate denier" - Logan Roy You're imagination personified. You somehow write your favourite stories into reality > and you do this so uncosnciosuly thst you've somehow convinced everyone its real. You don't care much for whats actually real, you'd rather manifest what you want to be real > no matter whats being thrown at you (and theres a lot) you have a uncanny ability to be a energy conduit > and transform that energy into what pleases you the most. And because of this you appear to be a mystic. and theres a tendency to be very calm, and if life throws too much shit at you > and you've ran outta favours, its adios to the world. and the long road of finding your purpose again awaits! MC Aspecting Pluto - "Would you like to hear my favourite passage from Shakespear? Take the fucking money." - Logan Roy You are daunting aren't you. people don't talk to you very much, at least not any normal self abiding citizen. you look like TMNT - you look neglected > look like you ate some radioactive poison > became this mutant thing > and was raised by a rat that could beat your ass... how'd that go? you look great! I would shake your hand but Im honestly afraid your gonna bite me. Look your life is intense and borderline traumatic, I get it. but this makes you so mesmerising > you can have the whole room in a trance with your dark aura, and people just hand you power like its nothing. You don't even care tho, and thats what makes you even more powerful lol > if anyone can handle the dark. its you > and a powerful 'rep' requires someone who doesn't fuck around. and you do not

highly highly recommend succession > all the quotes used are from dat show - and its a fkn masta piece

[ohboyhowdybuckaroo]

As a way to celebrate the end to the first arc of the ASL Gem AU, here's a couple of headcanons and things I put in the story that I was proud of. Also, some shitty memes I doodled and thought were funny. I put all the headcanons and neat things under the read more because there are spoilers for Keep It Simple, Stupid in there.

Luffy actually got poofed four times throughout the events of the first chapter. Two of them were depicted on screen, but the other two were when Ace got him caught in a landslide in their first meeting and when he came back to the bandit hut on the wolf and broke a hole in the wall getting tossed off of Kebab. Ace could've sword that landslide would have poofed Luffy and, I mean, he's not wrong.

Whery told me BTS that Sodalite's hair remains suspended in air as if it's flowing through water at all times. He's got mermaid hair, everyone. Love this guy.

The reason Sodalite struggles to unfuse is because... 🥁 🥁 🥁 He has a hard time unfusing when his components feel unsafe. That doesn't stop anyone strong enough from poofing him (A la Garp) or Sabo and Ace having such a strong disagreement that they come undone (a la the argument before the final fight with the wolves or when Ace post-getting-Luffy'd has conflicted feelings about ditching Luffy with Amethyst and co.).

In the process of plotting this, I wasn't sure how to translate the money-saving-schemes into this AU for the boys. The general layout of the plot is similar to canon, but I wanted to mix things up a little. That led to the parts scrounging aspect, which led to Ace and Sabo having their own waterfall cave instead of having a tree that they keep things in because I didn't think a tree could properly hide most of their junk from sight that close to the Kindergarten.

Sodalite never actually introduced himself to Luffy. (Cursed with Ace's tendency to never make a good first impression.) He learned Sodalite's name when a few gems and people were yelling in panic at their first meeting.

There's another nod to Sodalite inheriting Ace's bad first impressions when he first "meets" the bandits when literally dropping Luffy off after saving him and also when he meets Woop Slap and Makino.

Also continuing Ace's penchant for bad first impressions, he really did get put through the ringer with Makino when he first reformed. I gave him hell this whole arc, didn't I? Poor guy.

Herc and Agna are my contributions to the Dadan Family. I wanted to flesh their numbers out a little bit since we only ever know the names of Dadan, Magra, Dogra, and Pochi. I hope you like them... They're silly. (And probably in love tbh.)

Speaking of them, they made a bet on whether Luffy killed Ace in the beginning of the third chapter and you can see them exchanging money in the sixth chapter when it's revealed that Ace isn't actually dead.

I also added Woop Slap's baker brother, a Beryl to the Azurite crew who stood around while Luffy got his ass electrocuted, and a couple of random characters here and there with no canon version just for the hell of it. Got the chance to flesh this out a little bit thanks to focusing on a small sequence of events compared to the Odyssey that is One Piece canon.

In the second chapter, there are a few things that Sodalite and Luffy say in a couple of the conversations post-saving Luffy from the Azurite Pirates that get called back to.

Sodalite: You can’t be brave unless you’re scared. And if the first hint of danger has you sniffling and running away like a chicken, you’ll never be brave.

This one is a little more obvious. It gets reflected back in chapter 5 when Luffy is in the process of trying to help Kebab out from where he's trapped. Luffy is a bit of a coward and a crybaby when he's younger in canon and in this story. He builds up confidence with being rubber (Though I replaced his rubber body helping to protect him with him being able to reform quickly), having two older brothers to protect him, and eventually his own fighting skills in canon, but I wanted to add a little more oomph to it.

Luffy: I'm not crying, you're crying!

Sodalite: That's not how tears work, squirt.

This one reflects the flashback to when Ace and Sabo fused for the first time. I figured it would help soften Sodalite up to Luffy with the little nod.

Ace: I'm not crying, you're crying, stupid.

Sabo: That's not how tears work, idiot.

There's another point that gets called back to in a conversation between Luffy and Sodalite, but this is the conversation when Sodalite starts to refer to Luffy as "Luffy" mentally and not just Spinel.

Sodalite: Free and kind, huh? Free how?

Luffy: Free to go where I wanna go. Do what I wanna do. Be who I wanna be.

Sabo thinks back to this when he's poofed and trying to figure out what he wants to look like. Freedom is hard to get used to when you're used to a regimented lifestyle. I think it's called choice anxiety, but even though he wants freedom, he still has to learn how to be free, if that makes sense.

Speaking of that conversation between Sodalite and Luffy, I tried to switch up what he was called in the narrative based on whose POV I'm talking through. In the beginning, when Sabo, Ace, or Sodalite are thinking about Luffy, they consistently refer to him as "Spinel." When it's Luffy's POV, Luffy only referred to himself as "Luffy." Eventually, after the heart-to-heart they have in chapter 3, Sodalite, Ace, and Sabo also only refer to Luffy as "Luffy."

Prior to the narrative, Sodalite didn't have a lot of room to grow or a lot of interaction with people outside of battle or when he's alone when Ace and Sabo needed comforting. Being around Luffy and the circumstances of which they can't unfuse gave Sodalite the opportunity to become more of his own person.

I used he/they pronouns for a lot of the story to reflect the Sodalite-not-being-completely-his-own-person as even Sodalite still saw himself as Ace and Sabo and not just Sodalite. He's aware he's a fusion, but he's only now settling into the idea that he is a new person as well.

Ace thinks that Dadan and the bandits don't care about him for most of the story and they don't help things by pretending not to care that he's "gone" when Sodalite's around. However, at the beginning of the fourth chapter, I tried to give a little nod to Dadan being worried about Ace with her sometimes smoking late at night on the porch and staring into the forest. She was looking for Ace and worried about him, but Sodalite can't tell because Ace is blind to kindness. Dadan was losing sleep over you, you dummy.

True to canon fashion, I tried to limit how much I used Luffy's POV as in canon he doesn't really have a lot of internally kept thoughts as much as he doesn't have a filter between mental reaction and physical reaction. Thus, when I did have to use Luffy's POV, I tried to switch it to another character as soon as I could.

Whery once posted an animatic wherein they used the Ben 10 clip of Kevin saying, "You have to treat a car like you treat a woman," and I pretty much used that to shape Sodalite amd Makino's dynamic in my head which led to the way Sodalite and, by extention, Ace feel nervous around Makino, but the nerves just make it harder for them to say the "right" things.

These four posts gave me psychic damage and were the kick in the ass that got me to write K.I.S.S. to begin with. Literally got so wrapped up in them that I wrote a whole fanfic. I was originally going to just write the Luffy and Sabo reunion in Dressrosa. A couple hundred words in, I realized I should probably just start in the beginning to fluff it up with some history. Then I fell in love with Sodalite and underestimated how much I would get into the AU, so now we're here.

Y'all can take Ace being nervous around Makino however you want, but my intention was that kind people throw him off his game. This was meant to reflect how he's a mama's boy in canon and the pedestal-ing he did with his mother. (Rouge is a goddess, though, so like... he's not wrong.)

I tried to write it so Ace Literally Does Not Know how to be anything but a scruffy and snappy little kid since he was raised by bandits and Garp isn't the picture of healthy communication. With the Makino interaction post-reforming in chapter 5, I wanted her to nudge him into realizing that there's another way to handle disagreements and not every time he fucks up will lead to violence or yelling. Easing his toes into the water.

I went back and forth for a while on the scene in chapter 6 where Ace is about to run away. I was very iffy on if it was in-character for him to leave behind his only friends and everything he ever knew. But I also remembered how he acted in canon when people were putting themselves in danger for him and, yeah, pushing people away when people might get hurt """"because of"""" him fit well.

Is it weird that my favorite scene to write was in the 6th chapter when Sabo and Luffy knock a gem into a barrel and run away? I just felt my heart get full being able to write them getting closer and being chaotic together... Can't wait to write these three being chaotic together more.

It was very cathartic for me personally to write the scene where Sodalite first plays guitar for Luffy in chapter 2 and the scene in chapter 6 where Ace bursts out laughing when they fall over.

Sabo and Ace met when they both stumbled upon their cave and started having a turf war over who it really belonged to. They eventually became friends, but naturally, it took a minute and some fighting before then.

Most of the people and gems around don't care one way or another about fusion. Garp, as a gem higher up, cares based on principle and because he's old as dirt and was around when the "No Fusing" rule was more radically reinforced.

Fire Agates were "made" to be demolition gems (AKA why they have the fire going on and are typically very strong). Due to this, Ace can keep more items within his gem that can vary in size. Sabo can keep some things in his gem, but they typically have to be small to medium. Luffy could theoretically keep a lot in his gem, but I genuinely don't think he thinks about it unless he's storing food.

Luffy eats and sleeps because he first formed around the mixed population of humans and gems in Foosha Village and just thought it was neat. Now, he has sort of programmed his gem so he sleeps at night like people do, but he doesn't need to. He just likes it. Silly lil guy.

Ace was initially put off by Luffy wanting to use a different name than his gem type because he struggles with his own identity as a Fire Agate. Using a different name feels like running away from the realities of your gem type. Ace is plagued by his own gem type and feels like he can't run away, so Luffy so casually giving himself a name was foreign to Ace and made him a little bit jealous tbh.

Sabo similarly wasn't willing to call Luffy by his name because he felt cursed by his gem type. He's less touchy about it than Ace, though because he understands Luffy's desire to want to be his own person-- whoever that may be.

I changed Sabo's gem type from Labradorite to Moonstone because he has had some really neat fanart made of him that was Moon themed, and I thought that was really cute. There's some more to learn about Sabo that I've been hinting at, but y'all will find out sometime later.

Shanks was the person who made Luffy realize that he could have whatever name he wanted. I might write it out someday, but it basically went, "woah, I wish I had a cool name," "You can call yourself whatever you want. What, did you think Makino's name is her gem?" "... So what if I did?!" *whole crew laughs at Luffy* "Well, what do you want us to call you?" and the rest was history.

Ace and Sabo will eventually be able to bubble things. Ace can make bigger ones, but Sabo's are less likely to burst when messed with. Luffy could theoretically create bubbles, but I don't really think Luffy's the type to want to capture things in bubbles outside of beetles, and that's easy enough to make Sabo or Ace do.

I took some very vague inspiration from Zuko from ATLA and Ruby from Steven Universe when thinking about Ace's fire abilities. I wanted him to have pyrokinetic abilities, but struggle to use them thanks to some internal turmoil. Thus, his powers come from strong bursts of negative emotions and typically just sprout out around his body. (Yes, he has caused a forest fire before.)

Sabo can create light constructs similar to how Pearl does in Steven Universe. Thinking about Sodalite getting a little more showboat-y with his music and doing light shows? Eventually, fire blasting out of places like some bands do at concerts. That would be metal as fuck.

Sodalite literally always radiates warmth wherever he's at. He's a space heater. You can see a little bit of this in the 3rd chapter when he sits near Woop Slap to keep the old man warm.

Luffy still has the stretchy abilities of a Spinel, but he's still new to using them. In the first chapter when he's got an arm wrapped around Kebab the wolf, it only happened because he got his hand stuck on a spike and Kebab the wolf rolled around trying to get him off. He also has a lil toon force action going on. I tried to show this with a couple of scenes here and there. (When he falls into the ravine, when he runs into a tree in one chapter, the Luffy shaped hole in the bandit hut when he gets flung off Kebab into it, etc.)

I don't even know where the nickname idea of "Squirt" came from. I just thought it would be a funny nickname (derogatory) and it kept reoccurring in my brain and in the writing until it became squirt (affectionate). Who doesn't get called dumb names by your older siblings?

That eventually expanded into Sodalite handing out derogatory nicknames. You mostly see that with Garp. (Bootlicker, marble muncher, etc.) Sodalite is teaching Luffy how to be an even bigger little shit and I love to see it.

I didn't originally plan for the wolves to show up outside of the couple of times they appeared in the first chapter. Then, when I was writing the third chapter I needed a reason to have Garp escort Makino and Woop Slap to the bandits and then I wanted a reason to get Luffy and Co. to go to Foosha Village, so tada.

I especially didn't plan for Kebab to become Kebab. However, I wanted each of the brothers to take out a wolf in their own ways and Luffy just isn't prepared to fight creatures 1v1 right now, so I cooked up the idea of him becoming a pet thereafter.

Damn, that was a lot. Thanks for reading! Go check out @where-does-the-heart-lie for all the cool art they did for this AU, but please don't bother them for more art. I'm pretty sure they're not all that into the AU anymore, but they do have a lot of other cool posts and a comic they're working on for the boys if you need more ASL bros content. They also made a post with several drawings they wanted to do after reading that correspond with several events in the story if you wanna check that out.

That's it for now! Good luck, y'all. I'll be back with some kinda writing soon-ish.

[nias-nook]

Bill Cipher and The Unicorn in Captivity

Soooo, I haven't been looking at Bill related posts much since the book dropped as I have mixed feelings on what TBOB and the subsequent site have revealed about him, his motives, his backstory etc., but (and maybe someone beat me to this) one thing I haven't seen anyone talk about yet is this,

So maybe I'm stating the obvious here, but this is The Unicorn Rests in a Garden, also known as The Unicorn in Captivity. This piece was a part of The Unicorn Tapestries. Its origins are shrouded in mystery and super interesting but I'm not really gonna touch on that here.

Now there is something to be said about how this one piece, and the rest of the tapestries tie to Bill. I'll briefly go over what the tapestry meant when it was made then dive into what contemporary interpretations of the piece say about Bill and his fundamental inability to redeem himself.

Also just want to establish before we get into this that I am...Not a scholar when it comes to this stuff. I just happened to recognise this tapestry and its symbolism when it dropped on the website and had to put my thoughts somewhere. I might add more later if I've forgotten anything, which I probably have.

Given this was a piece made in Europe in the Middle Ages, it's perhaps unsurprising that a lot of interpretations of it are biblical, but we can (mostly) safely assume Hirsch isn't going for a Christ allegory here. Then again, maybe he's going for nothing and all of this is pointless.

What is a little interesting in the wake of TBOB is its ties to marriage.

These tapestries are heavily theorised to have been made to celebrate a wedding, and their comparisons of love and marriage to a hunt that inevitably leads to the imprisonment and taming of your lover. Of course, Bill quite literally suggests this method in the book with The Love Cage that he uses in Weirdmageddon, but there's a million 'Billford is canon' posts (though I think that's reductive at BEST) out there so let's table that as it's pretty self-explanatory. Bill and Ford have been hunting each other for decades and Bill imprisons him in a so-called 'Love Cage' to try and convince Ford to be his 'partner' (be it platonic or romantic). This is what a victory in a relationship is to him.

What I'd like to focus on is the modern interpretation of The Unicorn in Captivity as a self-imposed prison.

"Look at that little unicorn! The beatific smile. He's happy now. He gets to live in a beautiful garden."

"Yeah, in a cage."

"A protective barrier. No one's hunting him anymore. Nor can he hurt anyone with that horn of his."

This summary of the piece is taken from the aptly titled Unicorn in Captivity from another animated series, The Venture Bros. (which, by the way, if you're looking for another show that's a whimsical and fun riff on 80s pop culture with a big mystery element, highly recommend), but this of course isn't the first piece of media to portray it this way. the most notable being The Unicorn in Captivity poem by Anne Morrow Lindbergh.

The unicorn is, on the surface, a prisoner. The Theraprism that Bill is now trapped in is a place he longs to escape, but that's the thing, isn't it?

He could escape any time he wanted to.

Bill, like the unicorn, is trapping himself more than the Theraprism is trapping him, but his situation isn't to be pitied, it's karmic justice. What's so satisfying about Bill's eventual comeuppance is that he's the one making himself suffer. The only thing Bill needs to do to escape is to admit he was wrong, to stop revelling in the suffering of others, but...Well, he chooses not to.

He could slip his head

From the jewelled noose

So lightly tied -

If he tried,

As a maid could loose

The belt from her side;

He could slip the bond

So lightly tied -

If he tried.

For all of his guilt about his parents and his so-called 'dark and troubled past', Bill has never regretted a single person he's hurt since. He didn't regret taking over the world, he regretted being caught. He didn't regret hurting Ford, he regretted losing him. Bill will probably be doomed to wallow in the Theraprism for all eternity, cursing his situation and blaming everyone else for his inevitable downfall. An overgrown child who once had too much power and lost it all throwing a tantrum for the ages.

But now he can't hurt anyone with that horn of his.