#i'm not really going in any particular order with these (i probably should be) i'm just kind of going off of the titles that i know

[oveliagirlhaditright]

So, I've now completed Ocarina of Time, A Link to the Past, and Majora's Mask on this Legend of Zelda journey I'm on. Next up is Wind Waker:)

[postcardsfromheapside]

Okay. Listen. I'm only going to engage with this in good faith once.

Veilguard was never going to be like BG3.

BG3 is a great game for what it is, but no DA game allows you to pick the evil ending, thus there is no reason to allow you to get rid of companions in VG like in BG3 or in previous DA games.

In prior games, you may have been able to eliminate other companions from your team, or not recruit them altogether, because they were not crucial to the overall goal, and all you would miss is story/lore. Nothing breaks in the story/game if those companions leave/are killed/don't get recruited, it merely pivots.

This is completely different in Veilguard, where Varric has taken knowledge and insight and started to develop a specific strike team to take down Solas.

Hold my hand.

There is not a world where the Veil comes down and things "continue". I know a lot of Solas fans think there is...but there isn't. A robust explanation of why the Veil should NOT come down can be found here.

If the Veil comes down, everything ends. Ignoring the real world happenings at EA, if your end worldstate in VG is "world drowned in demons," there's nothing to move on to. No reason to play another DA game, were we to ever have another. Your world state is "game over."

Rook therefore *must* be the cooperative kind of person who is ultimately working toward keeping the Veil up, whatever the cost. It would really help a LOT of you to stop thinking about Rook as a "hero", and start thinking of them more as a project manager.

Remember, Varric already had the goal of "stop Solas" and specifically recruited Rook because they had qualities best suited to help with that, and Rook agreed because "world drowned in demons" is bad. So when Rook inherits the management position from Varric, they come pre-loaded with 1) a goal, and 2) the mindset to get it the fuck done (because there really is no other option, it's succeed or die, a fact mentioned more than once in dialogue with NPC's).

What Rook builds by bringing on team members is a strike force in order to achieve this goal. And here's my point: if you do not have these necessary companions, you do not make it to end game. The way the story is set up, removing any of the companions before Tearstone Island effectively sets the team up to fail horribly. The story doesn't move forward. The world is blighted. End series. Rook is highly motivated to be cooperative with these companions and their factions.

This is why it's a poor excuse to say that it would "add narrative tension" if Rook were able to be mean to their companions and risk losing them. Nothing is added narratively by a companion leaving. If they leave, at some point shortly after The Leaving, the story will end abruptly in Blight.

Rook is therefore not going to do things to cause the companions to leave, because their goal is "stop Solas/stop the gods/stop the blight" and to do that, Rook needs these people. Now, you can make the choice not to do the faction or personal quests along the way toward that goal, and ultimately those companions might fall in the final battle, but the story is not going to let you remove those companions before then. Because the story is not about a choice between "Veil-falling/World-blighted, or Rook being a hero." The story is many things ON THE WAY to stopping the the Veil from falling, one way or another.

Now, I know a lot of these "I wish we could be meaner" comments 99.9% of the time come about because people do not like particular companions, so this was all probably a waste of typing. And my answer to "I just don't like this person" is "too fucking bad, I don't like all my coworkers either, try growing up" or "maybe you should try not being a bigot," depending on the way the "I don't like this person" is phrased. But I also think some of you just really do not understand how story/games structure works, and you're familiar with very specific kinds of media, and it's upsetting you to have to wrap your mind around something new.

If you REALLY want to explore a blighted world, that's what fanfiction is for. Go bug nuts. I don't think it's going to be a compelling story, but you might surprise me.

Also, while we're talking about "tension":

I'm begging you to consider that one of the greater sources of tension can arise because you, the player, are literally watching a tragedy unfold. You cannot stop it, you know what's going to happen, you know what choices you're going to have to make, and you have to make them anyway, and they're going to hurt you in some way or another, and you, the player/reader, know what the characters do not. The tension comes from watching the different permutations of grief unfold across the screen and inside of you. None of the companions have to be in conflict with each other in order for this to happen.

[itsnotmuchyet]

So if Percy Jackson was going to ascend, what would his domains be? I think we can all agree that Percy would not be a god like Ariadne or Leto is a god. He would definitely be powerful. But the Greek pantheon has most domains already covered. Here's what I think:

Percy should be the god of loyalty, first of all. And, actually, THIS would be the most frightening bit. He'd be a second Eros. Don't see the vision? Imagine Percy deciding on a whim to make Zeus loyal to Hera. I think he should. It'd be the funniest way to get back at Zeus for all those times he voted to kill him, because what's Zeus gonna do?? Complain that he feels really really bad just thinking about cheating on his wife now?????

I don't have a clear picture of what else he'd definitely use this domain for, right off the bat, except I think he'd refuse to make Aphrodite loyal to Hephaestus if asked. Not for any particular liking of Aphrodite, but I think he'd refuse to make someone loyal to a spouse they didn't choose, just on principle.

Secondly, if he's ascending, he definitely should have killed Aklys and taken her domain. That's actually probably how he finds out that 1. Domains aren't fixed and 2. He's burning through his mortality. If Percy is ascending, fighting the goddess of misery should be the thing to instigate the process.

A possible second domain-by-conquest; I think he should get to take Kronos' power over time. As a treat. Maybe he has a confrontation with him in Tartarus, and this is a fight where, unlike Aklys, he knows the stakes and knows what he's doing. And he decides to put Kronos down for good by replacing his role in the pantheon like Apollo once took over from Helios.

Actually, speaking of Apollo. He has given out domains before. I want him to give Protector of Youths to Percy. Why? Well, the pjo Apollo doesn't seem to do too much with it (maybe. Haven't read the Trials. Lmk if I'm wrong). And I think it is PERFECT for Percy. I've seen some people say he should be the god of demigods (currently Hercules' role, and he's definitely not doing much with it), but i disagree. Percy has always cared for mortals, and I don't think ascension would stop that. He should protect young people regardless of their heritage. I think that matches his canon behavior better.

He should get to be god of riptides. Because it's thematic and it pleases me. Percy should get to keep a connection to the sea.

God of filial devotion might also be appropriate. That might already be covered by a different god though, I'm not sure.

Lastly. This might be controversial. Percy should be the god of divorce.

I have reasons. In no particular order:

I like divine duality, ie, Apollo is god of healing&plagues. Percy can be god of loyalty&divorce. (This is not a perpollo post necessarily, apollo just happens to be a useful example of what I'm going for here. Percy contains multitudes.)

He helped his mom get a divorce when he was younger. No - no, really, stay with me here. In many cultures for much of history the only way out of a marriage, particularly for women, was to kill your spouse. This is the original divorce. It's also not an option for gods. The Greek pantheon in pjo has clearly changed somewhat with time, but not as much as i think they should. I think Percy should be a sea change, and one of the ways to do that is provide a way for all those old unhappy bonds to either be dissolved or renewed. A catalyst to either commit to your marriage - hello god of loyalty - or leave it and try again. If we're breaking gods out of the old patterns, then let's do that. Percy can introduce the gods to the modern concept of divorce, and leave the past in the past.

It's either a genius idea or I'm completely deranged. Probably the second one, but there you have it.

I think if you want the gods to be kinder, you have to modernize them in some ways, and also address some of their own perennial unhappiness. Hera would certainly be a nicer goddess, for example, if she wasn't trapped in a bad situation. I don't say nice. I don't know that any god is nice. But nicer.

I guess mostly I want percy to ascend because it would be really funny if the gods were discussing whether to smite or reward him and he interrupts to be like, "okay, but you have to choose quickly, one of those isn't going to be an option for much longer" and that's how they find out that he's ascending. I think he'd have gone through all the stages of grief by that point, he's just. Over it. <- another reason I want percy to be a god is because he doesn't want to be. I think often those who seek power are those who least ought to wield it. Percy, who once chose not to overpower a nymph who was terrified he'd use her spring to clean horse stables, who inspires loyalty so quickly he made Praetor in a week, is extremely well suited to power.

[skeletonh0e]

Darling, just start the Chase

Description: You unfortunately go into heat, dealing with that alone is unpleasant but your pheromones trigger each of their own respective heats. Four of the most deadly men in the multi verse are desperate to compete for the right of mate, can you escape or will the boys kill each other trying to get to you? A/N: Extremely self indulgent that's been rumbling around in my brain for a bit, had to write it out. There will be multiple parts, rest assured. Fem Reader with AFAB anatomy, x Killer Sans, Horror Sans, Nightmare Sans & Dust Sans. Everything is consensual (though not safe or sane), but it's a heat fic with the typical elements of dub con/cnc, lost of control, possessive behavior, etc. Reader is a monster, species is vague, kinda went the route of them having an implied romance with all four Sanses going on already but it kind of left all up to interpretation regarding the exact history with each Sans. I did my best to spell check and beta read but it's probably still messy, sworry

MINORS DNI

You're up early, really early. The sun hadn't even properly risen yet, your body felt flush and the moment you went to simply sit up, your nearly groaned as something extremely sensitive coursed through your sex. It didn't quite click yet, you've woke up horny before but as you got onto your feet properly you feel the sheer dampness in between your legs.

Then you remembered the time of month and the year.

Fuck.

This was not the ideal time for this, far from it, your heat cycle was never a pleasant time. You always rode it out alone for better or worse, the thing about it was that once you really got going on it you just couldn't stop. And it tended to go on for a week at best, only cutting short if you managed to get yourself properly knocked up within a few days. Having a kid was one thing but going deep into a craze of non stop week sounded nice at first but it'd leave you tired after the fact as well as throw all current ones out the window.

That couldn't happen you had plans, that's not even mentioning you promised to meet with Nightmares Crew, fuck, those stupid toxic assholes

You nearly whine, flashes of their faces coursing through you and images of being pinned underneath him. Fuck, your insides clench and your can't help but wonder how fucking ruined your underwear is. Your pussy is so fucking ready for this, that instictinual part to be claimed, fucked, breed good and proper. You cringe a bit, it's hard to tell how much that idea naturally appeals to you and how much of it is hormones going crazy. It's probably just both when you get down to it.

No, you cannot see any of them like this. That's not even mentioning how they might react to this news, you could trust Nightmare and Axe to be mature, maybe Dust, but Killer? You're already dreading the thought.

You'll make up some excuse, for now...? You gotta take care of this, wasn't there some medicine that helped with the severity of these? You should get on looking into that. Quickly, your force your feet to your closet, picking out....whatever. It was a pretty boring set of clothes, but it gave you some much needed layers to your sensitive body. More skin covered the better.

The moment you have your bedroom though, there's someone in the hallway. Someone you just decided you were going to try to avoid right now,

"Dust...." you breathe out in clear surprise.

He's leaning against the wall, face completely covered though from his posture it didn't seem like he was looking at anything in particular, he doesn't respond at first but slowly turns to look at you, "good mornin' sleeping beauty"

"I think I'm the one that should be saying that to you....you've been up longer," not that you minded too much, though him visiting was one thing him doing so while you were asleep? That was new, "Do you...uh, need something?"

"boss ordered me and the others to escort you today somethin' happened and he wants look outs on all our resources" he's not telling you everything.

You frown trying to put the pieces together....something was concerning enough for Nightmare to send all his goons to look after you? You'll need to get onto that but, "Where are the others?" you ask, trying once again to ignore your clit throbbing at the idea of the other two here

"on their way here soon I imagine I got here early," he stops leaning on the nearby wall, taking a step closer to you, "seems like a good thing I did"

There was something....strange in how he was looking at you, a brief flash of his multi colored eyes and you felt like prey under the gaze of a far large more dangerous animal, it triggers your instincts to run away but you resist. "Guessin' there's no point in telling ole' Mare that I'm fine for today?"

"cut the shit," his tone was unusually blunt, "I can smell that"

You frown again, about to ask him to elaborate but he motions to your hips, taking another step closer and you take a step back.

"don't think boss knows, would have come to get you himself otherwise, but i'm glad for it I get you all to myself," he presses forward and you're slowly being backed up before you know it.

Your mind is racing, arousal surging through you as you're both scared as hell yet impossibly aroused by the scene unfolding before you. He's already figured out you're in heat? You wanted to hope you had been at least a little subtle but your back is pushed against the wall and loud thuds ring out against both sides of your head. His hands tightly planted on both sides of you as you're face to face with him.

You can even make out a decent chunk of his face from his hood, that's saying something.

"Back off," you hiss out, but he doesn't even falter.

"do you actually want me to?"

You don't respond back instantly, your expression clearly mirroring the flurry of conflicted emotions. You know you want this, need this, but you also know once this starts it's not going to stop. That's not even accounting for other factors like how you liked Dust but you've never gone as far as to sleep with him or even any of them before.

Your lack of immediate response was confirmation enough, as his hands are then placed on your shoulders, an alarming amount of force added just to keep you pinned and in place. Another factor that was added to this already intense situation getting tenser but his forcefulness turned you on even more. You can call it you being a freak or pure instinct but it's there

"you like making us work for it? you like knowing your struggling gets us off?" his voice is nearly a growl, the sound rendering your mind blank enough you don't think about what the implications of 'us' means here, "i'm not much better honestly keeping you here, holding you down, not lettin' you escape, it does something for me"

You're starting to question where all this aggression is coming from, not that Dust was ever gentle in the sense but less violent than Axe or Killer. However his hips grind against your own and you can feel how fucking hard he is through both of your clothes. Heat shoots through your core, further empathized as you manage to fully smell him.

He's in heat too.

You're still tightly pinned underneath him, Dust goes to lean down to bite your jugular, it wasn't extremely painful but it was firm, definitely felt, definitely leaving a mark and the mewl you make in response to it is nearly embarrassing as his hands go to grope at your body, hurtedly burying themselves underneath the several layers of clothes.

How can he be in heat? How? There ain't no way you two both happened to have perfectly synched cycles unless you were truly unfortunately unlucky, did...did you do this to him? Fuck, does it even matter? His smell is making you further messy and needy and your smell is fueling his growing aggression, it's so fucking tantalizing

"Dust," you grasp out, his hips continuing to rut against yours desperate for some frition.

Fuck, what would the others say? They were coming soon weren't they? Is this how it's going to be? The other two walking in on each other dry dumping like horny teenagers trying to hide from their respective parents?

He certainly doesn't seem to care, if you probably asked he'd probably like the idea of fucking you right in front of them. Once again it's hard to tell where these are natural desires you're both having or just getting pushed on by the pheromone filled heat.

"god fucking damn," clearly getting frustrated with all the clothes in-between you two, his hands curl into tight balls clutching your attire clearly about to rip the fabric off you, "inside. i need inside you now."

Was this happening? He was going to rip off your clothes then mate you here probably in front of his other coworkers once they arrive? And how bad was it that at this rate you'd happily let him? Even if resisting would have encouraged him more.

"Dus-" you were going to rasp out his name again, parts of your shirt already torn and the chill of the room hits you, but the scene is quickly stopped as in a blur of red and black, Dust was kicked off you.

Literally. Kicked. And flung across the room.

"You fucking slut," Killer arrived, clearly less than amused by the sight before you. His annoyance at Dust, not you, "You know damn well boss has a soft spot for this bitch, if he finds out you were trying to put your dick in her, he'd be pissed as all hell, especially if I let you."

Dust didn't respond as he got back onto his feet, glaring daggers at the other. Killer already dawning his knife as if expecting a fight already. "And if I'm getting his trouble it's because I put my dick in her, capiche?"

"fuck off" was the only reply that Dust barked back with,

Killer actually looked disappointed, "C'mon your comebacks are usually better than that, don't tell me that-" he froze, smelling something and that's when he turned to look at you. Something...changing in his expression, one that made your stomach twist.

Okay, clearly you and Dust weren't the only one being affected by your heat. Is this going to be the case with Axe too? Nightmare even? That odd mix of both fear and arousal shot through you again, unfortunately Dust and Killer took note of this.

"Oh ho, maybe I was wrong, does Boss know she's all like this?" he took a step forward, you were worried you were about to be pinned for a second time but Dust immediately stands in his way, the two glare at each other but you take the opportunity to shuffle to the other side of the room to gain some much needed distance.

Your pussy was going crazy with want, there were now two other monsters both in heat here and the desperation of your state was starting to show. Mentally you were cursing yourself, at this rate you're starting to think you might as well give up on your plans for the week, the universe was clearly conspiring against you in the best worst way possible.

"I see what's going on here, you were trying to keep her all to yourself? If Boss sent us all to take care of her, we should share shouldn't we?" Killer hummed, though honestly it didn't seem like he actually believed Nightmare sent them out for this reason alone. But it's clear that he wasn't willing to back down and let Dust have you either.

Your eyes scanned the area, you knew your own home like the back of your hand though you weren't aware of how familiar the boys were with your universe in particular. How far could you actually get?

The hooded skeleton let out a huff, "you won't share, I won't share, Axe ain't gonna fucking share either, you know that."

"he's right on that part," the gruff voice startled you as you turned around to see Axe looming off in the shadows, he's....salivating....okay the heat is affecting him too. Fuck, you have not one not two but three lust filled unhinged skeletons in your house, your thighs desperately clenched together.

God dammit....

"H-hey guys, don't I get a say in this?" your voice comes out a bit strained, "I don't want to be with any of you."

That's a lie, it's a bold face lie, the boys can all smell how it's a lie. But you don't want to just give in to it, not yet at least.

"you wouldn't be smellin' that good if that was really the case," Axe informed, his gaze inherently predatory as the others also stalked forward.

"I think she just wants us to chase her? Don't you? She loves being a tease after all," Killer laughed, "Or maybe she wants to see which one of us can successfully hunt her down."

"you both seem to be forgetting that I got here first," Dust added on.

"This isn't dibs, you don't win the game by being first," Killer chuckled, "It's a matter of who gets to her and who keeps her, she's already planning to run away. And when she runs from you she'll run right into my arms."

What is even happening? God, things are escalating, how long can you outrun any of them? They all have shortcuts, maybe Axe uses them far less than the other two but they still have them and how far can you get from three dangerous killers. You feel like easy prey in a growing impossible situation. Maybe you should just summon Nightmare to have him call off his lackies, but that's assuming he wouldn't be affected by his heat.

But honestly even if he wasn't there's no guarantee he might insert himself as a player in this game, despite what he claims he could be just as immature and petty as his underlings.

"You all couldn't even manage to catch me if you tried," you hissed out, playing along for now. If you actually did manage to escape them, then good, you could continue the rest of this week out mostly according to plan. If not well....it took everything in your will power to stop your legs from trembling.

Worst ways to spend a week you guessed.

"so it is a challenge then," Axe hummed, an sinister sounding chuckle erupting from him, "you might wanna be careful with those words, unlike these two i actually have experience tracking down prey and with that scent you won't get far"

"You underestimate me," Killer cooed, Dust pointedly saying nothing. "Let's be a little fair to her, hows about a five...maybe ten minute head start?"

Neither of them interjected, guessed that was agreed upon. Only ten minutes? How much ground could you cover in that time? Does it matter when it doesn't even seem like they're willing to negotiate on that?

"Clock starts now rabbit," Killer informed, pointing to his non-existent watch.

You took a deep breath, this was definitely happening. "Catch me if you can, boys." was the only response you could properly huff out, before immediately turning to book it out the back door. Not before hearing Killer smugly shout out,

"Nine minutes left!"

Silence lingered in the room among the three Sans as they allowed you to at least gain some ground, Dust being the one to break it with a realization.

"boss isn't gonna be happy about this," the one thing Killer was right about.

"What? You gonna snitch?" Killer asked, his tone making it clear that he was against the very idea of this getting back to their boss in any form. "If he finds out, worst case scenario we're all punished for it....best case scenario he joins in on our game."

"you mean he'll cheat," Axe informed tactfully, "already don't trust you on that front,"

"What?" Killer huffed, clearly offended, "I would never!"

"you would," Dust snarled, "so here's the deal, any of us start playing unfairly then we call boss, got it?"

Killer and Axe shared a look, no one wanted Nightmare involved. They were all under his thumb in some form or another and his "soft spot" for you was fairly well known at this point, he'd just steal you away before any of them could come close.

Silently they just both nodded.

"how much time does she have left?" Axe asked, eyes scanning to the door you left open in your haste.

Killer's smirk widened, "Five minutes."

[pyrodolls]

SUPERFAN! YANDERE BOY X POPSTAR! READER (YANDERE ALPHABET)

WARNINGS: a little nsfw, mentions of murder and violence, kidnapping, breaking and entering, stalking, depression, masochistic yandere, kinda worshipper yandere, some mentions of "offing" himself, mentions of death and starvation, established relationship, lowercase intended, not proofread, reader is gender neutral, i do not condone yanderes irl.

A/N: i was gonna do a request but uhhh i felt lazy. i'll make an alphabet for victor next cuz i feel bad for not writing him. plus i'm gonna try to make a masterlist soon so yippee! (also i apologize to all my non-yandere-enjoying followers that like my mortal kombat works, i'll get back to those someday. i just look back on my old works and cringe. i really dislike all my stuff from 2023.)

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

bayani loves you with all his heart. he is often overbearing and obsessive, treating you like you're the only thing that matters. he is always fussing over you and making sure you're okay. he constantly asks you how your day has been, if you've eaten yet, if there's anything he can do for you, etc. he is your little servant. please make him feel useful. please let him help you. his only purpose is to entertain and satisfy you in any way he can. whether you want him to cuddle and kiss you often, or you want him to cook and clean for you, whatever you want. he doesn't have a particular love language. even if he did, he would change it to cater to your taste.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

bayani believes violence is not the answer. he does not want to hurt anyone. but if it's for your safety, or if you order him to hurt or even kill someone, he would reluctantly do it. as much as he denounces violence, he cannot find it in his heart to disobey you. even if it is someone he knows, he'll do it for you. because if you think they should be dead, then you must be correct. bayani believes you can do no wrong, so he must act on your orders.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

bayani would not abduct you. he would never do anything that would hurt your feelings. as much as he gets off on being physically tortured and verbally berated by you, he cannot imagine a world where you dislike him or hate him in any way. he would never kidnap you. besides, even if he wanted to kidnap you, his apartment is too shitty to keep you there, and he wants you to live a life of luxury.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

bayani would absolutely not do anything against your will. he is nothing but your servant, and your fan. he does anything you want him to. he could never go against your will.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

bayani is yours. he has put his whole heart out for you ever since he first saw you. from being your biggest fan, to stalker, to boyfriend. since day one he has been (mostly) open and vulnerable.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

bayani would absolutely be turned on by your rage. kick him, spit on him, etc... the bulge in his pants would just grow harder and harder. however, as much as he enjoys being used as your personal punching bag, he doesn't want you to hate him. if you hated him, he might as well throw himself off a cliff. why should he live if you don't accept him? if he's not enough for you? he dedicated his life to following everything you did as a popstar, to dating you and doing everything you asked him to. so if you ended up hating him after everything he did for you, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

it is not a game to bayani, not one bit. i can't see him kidnapping you at all, but if he did it would probably be for your safety. he would hate to see you so sad and desperate to leave. he'd try to give you whatever food or gifts you ask for, to distract you from trying to escape. it's for your own good, please don't cry and scream at him.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

as much as bayani respects you, he often forgets your boundaries. he would break into your bedroom and watch you sleep, steal your clothes, or watch you while you shower. no matter how many times you try to tell him you're uncomfortable with his behavior and wish to have some alone time, he'd always claim that he would "respect you from now on" but the next day he'd go back to his perverted ways.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

bayani is hoping to get married and live happily ever after with you. he doesn't see himself having kids, he'd prefer to keep all his time and attention on you for the rest of his life. as much as he supports your career and music, a part of him hopes you retire early so you can give him more attention. but if you want to keep up your career for a few more decades, that's okay with him too. whatever makes you happy, makes him happy.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

bayani rarely gets jealous. but when he does, it's concerning. when he sees you hug or compliment a fan, he understands it's not romantic. he doesn't really care about it at all. however, if he sees a fellow popstar being a little too close to you or flirting with you, he immediately worries about himself. what if you leave him? he isn't attractive, or talented, or rich. you could easily leave him for a fellow popstar. bayani wouldn't blame you at all, or the popstar flirting with you. he only ends up looking in the mirror and picking himself apart for hours, wondering why you decided to date him. after that, he ends up being even more clingy than he was. he is basically glued to your hip, and doing everything you ask of him. he compliments you more and tries to make himself seem more energetic and loving. he even looks up ways to make himself more desirable to you, and trying out obscure skin care routines and putting lifts in his shoes. he tries to make himself better for you so you wouldn't leave him.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

bayani's basically a dog at your beck and call. he sits near you with hearts in his eyes, ready to tend to your needs. he usually talks to you nonstop, yapping about something he saw on the internet you might like or a bug he saw on the sidewalk. of course he'd stop if you ask him to, but he's just so nervous around you! even after you start dating and he's no longer just a superfan, his little crush on you never fades away. he covers up his anxieties by talking about anything and everything. if you were to engage in his little yapping sessions, or even laugh at his jokes or agree with his opinions, he'd get extremely flustered and shy. he'd try his best to hide it, but his tomato red face would give it away.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

bayani wouldn't even try to ask you out. he thinks of himself as nothing but a broke, ugly, stalker guy in love with you and your career. he thinks you're way out of his league. you would have to be the one to notice him and strike up a conversation. even then, he'd evaporate the moment you lay your eyes on him. but the more you notice him at your shows and interact with him, you'd become friends and then you'd have to be the one to confess to him.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

bayani's true colors aren't too different from how he acts with others. he's truly a perverted, shy, stalker. his whole life, even in childhood, he was always shy and never really talked to anyone. he didn't have any friends, wasn't in any clubs and didn't go to a church of any sort, so he was always alone. of course, nobody knows he's a perverted stalker, but it's easy to tell he doesn't speak to anyone but you.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

bayani would never punish you. he thinks you can do no wrong. whether you simply lashed out at someone, or committed a crime, he would always be on your side. even if you were to lash out at him, he'd accept it. he would never blame you, only himself.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

bayani would never harm you in any way because of how much he loves and worships you. he'd never take anything away from you.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

bayani would do anything for you, so of course he'd be very patient with you.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

bayani would not be able to live without you. if you left him, he would understand, but be heartbroken. but if you died, he would immediately lock himself in his apartment and refuse to eat or drink anything, and soon succumb to his own death. a life without you is a life he cannot live.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

bayani, again, would not kidnap you. if he did, i can imagine he would feel severely guilty about it. he hates seeing you in pain. if you're in pain, so is he. he would let you go as soon as he knows it's safe for you. hell, he'd want you to be free more than you do.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

like i mentioned before, bayani had a very lonely childhood. his parents weren't present, he had no friends or siblings, so he was left all alone. even when he graduated highschool and was left to live alone with a shitty job, he was still antisocial and had quite a dull life for a few years. that's how he discovered you. he never knew what it was like to love or be loved until he saw you and heard your music for the first time. your performances were a safe place to him. your lyrics were like a warm hug to him. you saved him from his miserable life. he started dedicating his life to you since you were the first person he truly cared about.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

bayani hates to see you in pain. he wishes he could take it all away for you. that's why he's so attentive to your needs, in hopes that he'll never have to see you cry or hear your screams in pain.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

unlike the classic, stereotypical yandere, bayani does not want to inflict harm on anyone unless he has to, and he's a lot clumsier than a usual yandere. he does not want to kill or hurt anyone, but if you really wanted him to, he would. but there's no guarantee that it'll go well, considering how clumsy he is. but he's trying, for you!

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

bayani is a worshipper, through and through. you want to leave him? just tell him. he'd be heartbroken, and probably beg you not to leave him, but ultimately he wants you to be happy. however, if he ever kidnapped you, you could escape by distracting him. you could point somewhere in the distance and go "look over there!" and he'd look for a couple seconds, then look back at you- and aw shucks you already ran away

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

bayani. would. never. even. dream. of. hurting. you.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

bayani would literally commit war crimes for you if you asked him to. there is nothing he wouldn't do for you. he sees you as a hero that saved him, so he believes he should return the favor by doing anything for you. anything to keep you happy.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

after being your biggest fan and stalker for years, bayani is content with staying that way for the rest of his life. of course he would love to be yours, but he would be happy with simply watching you from afar for as long as he shall live. he would never snap.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

depends on your sanity, and how much you like bayani. if you're okay with his clingy, clumsy, yapping self for the rest of your life, then you'll be fine. but if you'd get sick of never having a lot of alone time, or having a guy that is attached to your hip... then maybe you'd break and he would be incredibly guilty. he would try to apologize by being even closer to you, which would make you feel worse. unless you end things with him, you're stuck forever.

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[irmawrites]

Sleeping with the enemy | One-Shot

Summary: your father, Gwayne Hightower, had always told you to beware of Davos Blackwood, son of one of your grandfather's most ardent haters. But when you meet him at a party years after graduating college, you can't help but think he's not so bad after all.

Rating: Explicit [18+], MDNI.

Pairing: modern!Davos Blackwood x Hightower!Reader (appearance isn’t specified, everyone is 18+ in this)

TW: smut with a tiny bit of plot, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, praising kink, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones, afab reader, not proofread.

Words count: 4393

Author’s note: Hi, everyone! This is my first time posting here, and I have to admit I'm a bit intimidated ahaha like a lot of people, I fell in love with Davos Blackwood's in episode three and ABSOLUTELY had to write this idea that's been on my mind for a while now.

I should probably mention that English is not my mother tongue, so please excuse my grammar mistakes!

Davos Blackwood had a bad reputation in your neighborhood, that much was true.

The rumors about him had started when you were still in college, something about red liquid smeared on the mirror in the boys' bathroom. A silly prank involving fake blood and strange theatrics to scare off a younger classmate that had perhaps gone too far. It was your own cousin Aemond who had found the fake crime scene just after the culprit had left, still licking his red-stained fingers. It caused quite a stir at the time, and he hadn't been seen on campus for at least two weeks. It may have been fake blood or just a tasteless joke, it was still inevitable that action would have to be taken.

It was Aeron Bracken in particular who had helped make these bizarre stories popular. He told anyone who would listen that Davos Blackwood was a deranged, violent madman. It was no secret that the two young men didn't get along. But no one expected things to get as bad as they did. There had been rumors in the hallways and whispers in the cafeteria, but that wasn't all. His car had been vandalized and marked with insults on several occasions. Even Gwayne Hightower, your father, had warned you.

A real witch hunt.

As far as you knew, however, the main target had remained unaffected by the situation, even toying with those who provoked him. In a way, he almost seemed to enjoy the wild, mysterious aura that all this fuss gave him.

You, for one, had never really believed it. After all, he didn't look like a bad guy, with his big, green eyes and permanently disheveled black hair. He seemed a little strange to you, a little off, but not enough to be considered a clear danger. But your opinion didn't matter much.

Nothing had ever destined the two of you to spend time together. His parents' company only did business with Rhaenyra's, refusing any ties and especially any agreements with the Hightowers. His father seemed to harbor a fierce hatred and boundless distrust of your family, apparently fearing that Otto's overweening ambition would lead him to overturn the order of succession established by Viserys himself and install his own grandson as sole ruler of the company.

And in your world, your parents had a bit more say in who you dated than they did for other people. You couldn't just go out with a guy because he seemed interesting, especially if he was the son of one of your grandfather's most ardent haters.

So you'd never spoken to each other in college, let alone at the lavish charity galas your family hosted.

Never, until that day.

"You like Iron Maiden?" a hoarse, unfamiliar voice said from behind you as you wrung the water out of your hair, "or is that your boyfriend's shirt?". The sun was high in the sky and you could feel the heat of its rays burning your exposed neck. The clear waters of the Targaryen family pool sparkled, and the garden echoed with the bursts of voices of those Aegon had invited to what should have been a casual gathering of the younger generation with ties to the Targaryen business.

You didn't think he'd invite Davos Blackwood, though.

"It's mine," you replied, giving the young man a mischievous smile, your fingers playing absentmindedly with the string that held the bottom of your swimsuit to your hip, "and yeah, it's one of my favorite bands actually." He seemed to take a moment to assess the situation, his eyes roaming up and down your body, an unreadable smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Never pegged you as a little rebel," he crossed his arms over his chest before continuing, "more of a model daughter." You knew he was toying with you, trying to tease you, but you were more than happy to play along.

Besides, you understood where the thought came from, you who were usually more used to short skirts and high heels than band shirts.

Mentally, you thanked Aegon for thinking of him. "Be careful, Blackwood," your voice sounded like a playful threat, "you might be surprised."

You were about to leave to return to the deck chairs, but it seemed that Davos wasn't quite finished with the conversation. "Wait," he ordered, taking your wrist between his broad fingers. Mechanically, you glanced around to make sure no one was watching. After all, the last thing you wanted was for someone to spy on your conversation with someone who still belonged to your grandfather's enemy side. "What is it?" it was your turn to cross your arms over your chest, your eyebrows furrowing as you waited for some kind of justification from him. It was clear he had something on his mind, but you just couldn't figure out what. "Do you want to come over to my place sometime?" he finally said, and you felt your breath catch somewhere between your throat and your lungs. "Why?" the question crossed your lips before you could even think about it.

You didn't know each other, had never spoken before, not to mention the fact that your families didn't approve of each other. You were tempted to agree, of course, because whether you liked it or not, you felt this kind of almost magnetic attraction pulling you together.

You'd have liked to think it was fate, but you knew it was just your love of danger and the forbidden.

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts again. "You seem like a pretty nice girl, and we obviously have the same taste in music," he replied, finally loosening his grip on your wrist, "we could watch a movie, get to know each other, something like that." The offer was tempting, the prospect of spending a little more time with him appealing, but even though you desperately wanted to say yes, you knew you couldn't. You had to be reasonable and listen to that little voice in your head that told you it all sounded like a terrible idea. But he seemed to sense your reluctance because he quickly added, "Don't worry, no one will know."

***

Davos’ room wasn't exactly what you'd call tidy. You noticed a half-full ashtray on the windowsill and a few empty cans on his desk. It was the opposite of your own bedroom, neatly decorated and perfectly organized. Your wardrobe drawers were a bit of an exception, but that didn't really matter.

Even so, you couldn't help but find it a little charming. The smell of his cologne in the air, the half-unraveled sheets, this was unmistakably him. It tasted risky and illicit, and it stirred something unfamiliar in the pit of your stomach. A reaction that no boy had ever managed to provoke in you.

"There's no denying it, vampires really are the best supernatural creatures," you muttered, sinking your teeth into the last slice of the half-cold pizza you'd ordered earlier. You were especially comfortable sitting cross-legged on his bed as the rain pounded against the windows and the end of the movie drew near on his computer screen. His parents were out of town for the week, on a business trip or something, providing you with an opportunity to finally meet away from prying eyes. He seemed quite comfortable too, with his leg pressed against yours and his hand wrapped around his soda cup, which he sipped absentmindedly. "I have to say, I never thought you'd be into movies like this," he told you after a few long seconds, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "given your looks, I thought you'd be more into romantic comedies or something." You held back an annoyed sigh.

"Like I said..." you finally replied, "you should beware of appearances."

They can be misleading sometimes, you kept to yourself.

It was true that you were usually a sweet, sensible girl, the ideal daughter who always smiled and never caused trouble. The pride and joy of your parents. But lately you had grown tired. Tired of following orders, of doing everything you were told without ever being able to listen to your heart. You were eager to get rid of this constant fear of disappointing your loved ones if you didn't live up to their expectations, and it seemed that life had given you the perfect opportunity to free yourself from all that. 

"Is there something I should know?" the young man’s hand came to rest on the top of your thigh, his thumb delicately stroking the soft skin there, "some dark secret of yours, princess?". His almost mocking tone and the annoying nickname were enough to bring back that scorching heat in the pit of your stomach. The way he looked at you, at your breasts, made you think that he was affected by this sudden closeness, too. His gaze burned, almost as much as his fingers, which were now creeping dangerously up the hem of your shorts. And when you felt them graze the lace of your underwear in the hollow where your leg and hip met, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you'd bitten off more than you could chew.

But even though you were entering unfamiliar territory, something foreign to you, you refused to lose control and let him take what he wanted without saying a word. This wasn't your style. You always had a witty comeback ready to go. And you were going to show him.

Slowly, you moved forward a few inches on the bed to sit astride his very inviting lap, never taking your eyes off his lips. Your hands found his shoulders, and you could feel the hardness of his desire beneath your thighs. Gods, the sensation was divine. This was your doing. You and no one else’s. The sudden surge of power and dominance made your head spin. "Be very careful what you do now," his fingers settled on your hips to bring your chests a little closer together, his grip tight and bruising. "Or what?" you replied in an almost insolent, even provocative tone.

"Or we could end up doing something you might regret."

This was all a very bad idea, that much was true. Davos Blackwood was a very bad idea. But you didn't want to dwell on what the future might hold, let alone the potential consequences of your actions. All you knew was that you wanted more. More of his hands on your skin, more of his lips on yours, and more of him.  

And it seemed that he, too, was eager to take it further.

His fingers made their way up from your waist to your chest, slipping under your tank top to brush his thumbs over the two little hardened buds. The ghost of a touch, really, but it was enough to make you moan. Your mouths were now just a few inches apart, your breaths mingling, but you didn't want to kiss him yet, choosing to prolong this delicious, exhilarating tension for a few minutes longer.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he asked, his voice hoarse with desire. "Do you feel it?". He backed up his words with action, rolling his hips and planting a kiss right at the corner of your jaw. "You know what this is?" he added, rolling one of your nipples between his index finger and thumb, "what happens to a man when a woman behaves the way you do?". Of course I know, you wanted to say but the words stuck in your throat and only a moan managed to break through the barrier of your lips. You weren't stupid, you were perfectly aware of what happened in this kind of situation. But you'd never seen it, let alone touched it, and the theory was very different from the actual reality.

"Shut up," you replied at last, before planting a kiss on his lips. You didn't mean it, though. To be honest, you wished he would talk to you like that all night long, sending a wave of heat straight to your core with words alone. His tongue found yours, silencing your thoughts, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep from losing your footing. "Such a foul mouth," he said, smiling against your lips as he gave you time to breathe, "we'll see if you're still so talkative once I'm done with you."

The young man's hands found the bottom of your tank top and pulled it over your head, and soon it was your shorts that suffered the same fate, leaving you in nothing but your black lace panties. You suddenly felt exposed, lying there under that hungry gaze that regarded you like a precious gift, a prized possession. You waited eagerly for his next move.

Where was the bold young woman who had taken the lead just a few minutes earlier, the one so determined not to lose control? It seemed like she'd already vanished, replaced by some shy creature beneath his crude words and inappropriate touch.

"What are you going to do to me?" you tilted your head to the side to give him better access to the skin of your neck, which he was kissing with increasing fervor. "Nothing you won't like," he replied as he stood up to get rid of his t-shirt, which joined the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. Your eyes couldn't help but wander over his toned torso dotted with dark hairs, your hands itching to touch him.

Soon enough, his lips found your jaw, then your neck, then the top of your chest, and you immediately shivered. The weight of his body lying on yours was delightful, comforting. "Please..." you whimpered as your hands settled on his shoulders, urging him to give you what you were so desperate for. You felt his fingers slide slowly against the skin of your belly, then lower, much lower, to play with the lace of your underwear, and your back arched almost reflexively. You wanted more, you needed more, and you were getting tired of waiting.

"Be patient, princess," he said, nibbling on the soft skin of your breast, his mouth soon wrapping around your hardened nipple. A grunt escaped you, and you weren't quite sure if it was from your frustration or the dominant tone he had just used. His hand slipped under the fabric of your panties to tease the top of your slit before brushing over your already soaked folds. It was annoying, really, the effect he was having on you with such a light touch. But it was heavenly, and you had decided to ignore the voice of reason for the night.

His index finger found the little pearl nestled at the apex of your center, and the contact felt like a delicious electric shock. You threw your head back, eyes closing, lips parting in a silent cry as he drew little circles around your most sensitive area. "Have you ever had anyone here?" he asked after a few seconds. When you didn't answer, he added: "I asked you a question, and I want you to answer me." There it was again, his commanding, almost controlling tone.

"N... no," you stammered as you opened your eyes again to meet his, "nobody." You suddenly felt like prey under his hungry gaze that devoured your trembling body. "Perfect," you heard, just before his fingers found your entrance, which was already clenching around nothing, "and here?".

The idea of being the first to enter you seemed to obsess him.

You nodded, this time from left to right, signifying that no, you had saved your virginity for the right man, the one who would know how to make you tremble under his ministrations, the one who would know how to make you beg for more, always more.

"Perfect," he repeated again, as the first knuckle of his index finger sank agonizingly slowly into you, teasing your inner walls. It was barely there, nothing really, and yet you already felt incredibly full. "You're so tight," he growled against the skin of your throat, "so warm too, you're going to feel amazing around me." He added a second knuckle and soon his finger was completely buried inside you. It felt good, and it felt right, but it didn't feel like enough. You wiggled your hips and it seemed as if Davos had understood your silent request immediately. "I need you to take another," he straightened on his left elbow to look at you with lust-blown pupils, "do you think you can do that for me?". Once again, you nodded your head in agreement, but this time it didn't seem to be enough for him. "Use your words, princess." You fought the urge to roll your eyes. "I... I can take more," you murmured right against his lips as you looked down between your thighs.

"Good girl," he said, his voice low and rough as you felt his middle finger pressing into you. He curled them both, brushing that spongy spot against your inner wall, and you threw your head back.

You dug your nails into his pale skin to stay anchored in the present as his thumb found your clit. But you knew you wouldn't last long. You could already feel tingles of pleasure buzzing through your body, and in the pit of your belly, the fires of delight burned a little more fiercely. You wanted to warn him, to tell him you were close, but he was quicker than you: "Come for me."

He didn't need to tell you a second time.

Soon, the wave of your orgasm washed over you.

It made your whole body shake with spasms, your climax exploding like fireworks behind your eyelids. Your lips crashed against his neck to stifle your final moan as your back arched under the intense sensation. The young man was merciful enough to give you a few seconds to recover before withdrawing his fingers, leaving you empty and frustrated. "Look at the mess you made," you heard him groan, "clean it up." His index and middle fingers brushed across your lips, which parted eagerly to welcome them into your warm mouth.

You timidly wrapped your tongue around them under his predatory gaze. The mere thought that you could taste yourself on your taste buds set your body on fire once again. It was indecent, inappropriate, and you probably should have been ashamed to be used like this, but you couldn't care less.

Maybe it was his fault, or maybe you'd just found each other despite everything that kept you apart.

His fingers left your mouth to wrap around your neck. But as he lay back on the mattress and guided you towards his lips, you resisted. Once again, you straddled his hips, only this time completely naked. He looked at you for a few seconds, a little confused, until you reached under the elastic of his underwear to slide it down his legs. This seemed to make him realize the extent of your intentions. His hard member jumped free and caught your eye. Standing proud with a mass of dark curls adorning its base, the sight alone made you salivate. "Let me thank you," you said, as your fingers gently traced its length. "I want to make you feel good too." You slowly moved between his legs to kiss his inner thighs.

You reached out tentatively and wrapped your fingers around his manhood. It felt heavy in your hand, massive and your index finger couldn't quite touch your thumb because it was so wide. You brought your lips to his crotch and, watching Davos from beneath your long lashes, planted a quick kiss on the head where it was already weeping for you. Your tongue traced a vein on the underside without ever breaking eye contact. He threw his head back, his lips parted to let out a muffled curse.

The rush of power you felt when you saw him so vulnerable under your touch was sinfully delicious.

You tilted your head to the side to plant a series of kisses all along his hardened manhood, your big innocent eyes still locked with his. There was a pause, a few tense seconds, before finally, finally, you moved your head forward to take him fully into your mouth. His big hand found refuge at the back of your skull, and you let him guide you completely.

The grip on your hair tightened, almost to the point of pain. "Breathe, through your nose," the young man ordered, but his voice was more urgent than before, his breathing becoming ragged from the growing pleasure. "You can do better than that." The fingers buried in your locks soon forced you to swallow him whole, your nose pressed against his pelvis, the unruly hair tickling your face. You could feel yourself drooling around him, the action messy. "Such a filthy girl," he said as his thumb came to caress the corner of your mouth, right where his member disappeared between your lips, "sucking my cock like a real whore." You let out an audible moan around his length in response to the foulness of his words.

But instead of disgusting you, it only served to encourage you.

You hollowed out your cheeks, still following the rhythm of his hand, which had resumed its place at the back of your head. He was big, and he filled your mouth in a way you hadn't experienced before, but you wanted to prove to him that you could satisfy him, that you could make him proud. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes, which he hastily wiped away with the tip of his free thumb. "Shh... you're doing so well," he praised you in a reassuring tone. You knew he was close to reaching his climax. His breathing had become labored, his movements erratic, and it was evident that you were causing him to lose his balance. But it seemed he didn't want to end it that quickly.

"Wait, not yet," he straightened into a sitting position, placing his hand on your cheek to force you back a few inches, "I'd hate to waste it." The implication made your cheeks flush, but you couldn't help but look forward to what would come next.

His hands came to rest on your waist, encouraging you to sit on his hips again, this time making his still impossibly hard manhood brush against your soaked cunt. The contact alone was enough to elicit a moan from you. His own fingers wrapped around his member as he guided it towards your narrow entrance.

And after what felt like an eternity, he finally thrust into you.

He stretched you to perfection, the foreign sensation a mixture of delicious pain and aching pleasure. "Fuck princess, you're tight," your head found refuge in the hollow of his neck, but you could hear that annoying smirk in his voice, "I'm going to ruin you." And oh how you couldn't wait for him to make good on his threats. "Move," you pleaded against the skin of his throat as you hesitantly moved your hips up and down to get that delicious friction you craved. He seemed hell-bent on teaching you self-restraint, even though you desperately wanted to see him lose control. He grabbed your waist in a firm grip, keeping you pressed against his hips and making you whine. "Did I say you could move?" he asked, kissing the side of your jaw. Once again that night, you'd annoyed him by not answering, and he repeated, "did I say you could move?".  

It seems he was also trying to make you learn obedience, in addition to patience.

You didn't even have a chance to react before the young man used his grip on your waist to pull back almost completely, revealing his member glistening with your sticky juices before thrusting himself into you once more. His head was rubbing against that most delicious spot inside you, making your legs tremble with pure bliss. "Please, I..." You didn't even know what you were asking for as he moved back and forth continuously. You thought he'd ask you to speak again, but he was too caught up in pleasure and close to his release to be bothered by your pleas.

But even if he'd lost his rhythm, it was clear he was still determined to satisfy you. His thumb was back on your little pearl, tracing small circles around it, while inside you his length relentlessly pounded against your inner wall. You could feel yourself clenching around him, and the heat between your thighs was back with a fiercer intensity than ever. “I’m going to fill you up,” his teeth nibbled at the soft skin of your neck, marking it possessively, “I’m going to fill you up and you’re going to take everything I’m going to give you, feel me for days.” The moans that came out of your mouth were now completely incoherent, a confused jumble of yes and please.

Your climax hit hard and fast—stronger than the one Davos had offered you earlier that night. You dug your nails into his shoulders, leaving red half-moons as evidence of your forbidden actions. Your back arched off the mattress, pressing his body against yours as reality slipped through your fingers and a myriad of stars danced behind your eyelids. He followed you just a few seconds later, pouring into you with white ropes.

He stayed inside you for a few more moments, his length softening. But neither of you felt like moving, not when you were so comfortable, lying against each other, your limbs tangled. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead that made your heart clench. You still refused to think about the future and the problems that might arise from such a strong connection between the two of you. All that mattered for the moment was his skin against yours and your fingers in his hair.

"We should do that again," you murmured as you kissed his cheeks, his chin, his nose, "someday."

He smiled.

"We will," he said with confidence, "I'll make sure of that, princess."

The nickname made your stomach flutter with excitement.

[firestorm09890]

figured out something I’ve been idly spinning on for a long time while assigning pokemon to the sinners, of all things

It’s about Meursault

I believe his Canto will be about dehumanization. Again. Even though we’ve already seen it multiple times and will probably see it even more. But hey, Limbus Company is a game about the experience of living in this bitch of a world despite it all and dehumanization is a struggle that comes in many forms.

It might be obvious that his canto would do that, considering the murder, but I actually think the discussion of how his victim, whoever it may have been (since The City seems to be over our version of racism and colonialism in favor of… other shit + Classism EX), was not treated as an equal class of citizen as Meursault (this is actually false. more on that next paragraph), will be secondary to Meursault’s own dehumanization.

In his source, he, a settler in French Algiers, kills an unnamed Arab. It is clear that any other white settler would have gotten away with it with a slap on the wrist- the court expected his trial to go quickly and for the main event of the day to be a different trial- but Meursault in particular is not afforded that privilege because the court believes him to be inhuman for- you guessed it- not crying at his mother's funeral. And also being an atheist and going out with his girlfriend the day after that funeral and asking for a cigarette when he wasn't supposed to and only a tiny bit the part where he shot the corpse 4 times, the point is it's over the stupid stuff not the stuff that matters

“[The prosecutor] said that he had peered into [my soul] and that he had found nothing, gentlemen of the jury. He said the truth was that I didn’t have a soul and that nothing human, not one of the moral principles that govern men’s hearts, was within my reach.”

In other words, this is a narrative about how quickly someone who you might think is part of the in-group can be cast out. He’s The Stranger, if you will.

N Corp is the Wing that values the concept of "humanity" perhaps the most in the entire City and I'm certain he has history with that view working to his detriment.

What's actually more important than what's happening within the story is "the cold, uncaring gaze of the anonymous masses"- the real world, that is- not that it's not all happening in-universe too.

I'm pretty sure jokes explicitly calling Meursault a robot have fallen to the wayside (though I don't exactly look for them so I'm not sure) in favor of the joke that Meursault can do literally anything if he is ordered to. He can become S Tier. He can manifest EGO. He could, I don't know, defeat Goku if Dante told him to. And so the tone changes, but... the sentiment doesn't. He's superhuman now, not subhuman, but he's still not a normal human.

The same goes for how the other sinners treat him. He's a wonderful source of information, almost like an encyclopedia. He can run fast with perfect breathing and he's strong and he can give massages. He is the perfect man- something I have seen said on a few of my Meursault posts. The easy solution to any physical problem.

Even his quirk of not being a good judge of when he should be taking action or telling people about things doesn't really matter anymore, since it has an easy "fix"- just telling him exactly what you want to be done. Goodness knows he's capable of it.

Even Vergilius seems to add to this view of him- Meursault gets one of the very few positive special voicelines from him in the announcer booth.

And the only announcer line of his to individual sinners that can't be read in a backhanded way.

He is less than human, or he is more than human. How does Meursault himself feel about any of this? Does he care? His input is valued more than before, which is great, but he still really just expresses observations and recites objective facts, not opinions and personal values.

...They don't actually like his personal values very much. Of the three occasions I can think of where he talks about what he thinks, Heathcliff in particular reacts negatively and loudly to all of them- the first is seen above, from Canto III; the third is in Canto VI, when Meursault had to go "hey I'm not finished talking yet", and though Heathcliff was Going Through It I think he also had it in his mind that he and Meursault do not tend to agree on courses of action; and the second is this one from Canto IV

(Heathcliff's words after Dante says they're going to help)

Keep an eye on this Meursault reaction. When Canto X comes out next year I'm sure we'll find out what those ellipses mean.

I believe that in his canto, the incredible, flawless image of him that the sinners have all built up in their minds will be torn down and they'll all have to contend with that. Heavy speculation, but maybe they'll even turn on him for a little bit, unable to cope with the shock that he's done something so terrible.

You know, how parasocial relationships and cancel culture works in real life.

As much as I like the idea of him having some connection to distortion (Carmen as the sun from the book is just too good), I think if he's anything but 100% human it cheapens his story. He's the perfect specimen by N Corp standards, and he's still not good enough, by metrics he could never hope to understand.

That is how I think The Stranger will be adapted.

[itsnathateasy]

waking up with these aot characters

word count: 2,2k a/n 1: you won't believe how long i've been postponing this for! i'm mostly focusing my energy on at odds, at heart and some other writing projects and this type of fics (that i honeslty love sm!) have been neglected i do hope you enjoy this one, it was a promising idea! might update and add more characters too! a/n 2: SO yall just did the nasty and either you or them spend the night, but the morning after can be rather… awkward? funny? we’ll see! warnings: sfw buuut kinda suggestive! jean's from the pounding, not from an sti! taglist! @satorella @brave-and-gentle @eleuthreomaniaaa @flrn01

As soon as you woke up, you stretched your legs and arms, taking your time to slowly wake up. You had the leisure of sleeping in today, but also someone occupying the rest of your bed. You didn’t mean to, but you accidentally kicked Eren in your attempt to stretch. Good thing you didn’t do it too harshly, only enough to wake him up too. “Morning sleepy head”, you said as you now playfully kicked him again. He only mumbled at first, refraining from speaking properly. “I’ll go take a shower and order breakfast. Anything particular you’d like?” You questioned, not yet moving away from the position you’d both slept in, as if you were glued together. Eren lazily turned his head towards you and gave you a good hard look. “Who are you and why are you in my bed?” You almost froze, unsure whether you were angry or disappointed. Surely, Eren had the reputation of a player, but you’d been together for what? Almost three months now? Surely, he can’t have forgotten who you are! “Are you being serious?” You asked him, honestly in shock. “Yeah, who are you lady?” You immediately stood up, throwing the covers behind you and turning to face him, your blood boiling. “If anyone should forget who the other is, that’s you! That’s my bed and this is my house, you rude ass… Whatever!” You saw Eren’s green eyes flicker as he burst out laughing. He was laughing so hard, he’d sat up and was holding onto his belly. “What’s that for?” You asked, not knowing how else to proceed with this. “I’m just pulling your leg, y/n! How could I ever forget you? Especially after what you did last night, I could ne-” But you didn’t let him finish. You grabbed one of the pillows and smashed it on his face. “How dare you play tricks on me after our first night together, Eren? You’re evil!” His laughing never ceased, only became louder. “Know what’s evil? That thing you did with your tongue and-” "UGH, shut it, Eren! I’ll go take my shower now!” You said and walked out of the room to laugh in the privacy of the bathroom. You’d never give him any type of credit for such a prank. “Can I come see?” “Hm, I don’t know, Eren. Are you going to be a good boy or are you going to pretend you don’t know me?”

The sweet smell of coffee woke you up. You opened your eyes to a half naked Armin setting a tray on your bedside table as he tried to be as quiet as possible. “Oh, y/n! I’m sorry I woke you up! Coffee’s still hot and I’m making pancakes soon! Any requests?” You smiled to yourself as you stretched your arm to reach him, yet he fleeted. You couldn’t help but not notice how he was avoiding your gaze. It was probably not a big deal. If he didn’t enjoy himself last night, then he’d already be out of here, right? Would he be making you breakfast if he wanted nothing to do with you? Reluctantly, you rose from the bed, opening the windows to let some fresh air in, before heading to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. Once you were done, you walked into the kitchen, only to find Armin flipping a pancake, a perfect, almost golden one, and setting it on a plate to his left. You snaked your arms around his waist, resting your head between his shoulder blades. “They smell really good, Armin.” “Wait till you have one, y/n! What would you want for toppings?” You turned him around so you could face him, giving him a playful grin and a wink. “I liked this topping that I had last night!” You said, tapping on his torso with your finger. Armin turned red within seconds and promptly returned to his cooking. He only responded with a soft ‘yeah, yeah’ and spoke no further. Well. That’s a first. “Did I say something wrong, Armin? Didn’t you enjoy last night?” He pulled the pan from the heat, setting in a few inches away from the stove, an arm rubbing the nape of his neck. As he turned to face you, you noticed he was still red as poppy and a bit nervous. You put your hands on his chest, giving him a reassuring look. “No matter how bad it is, you can tell me, Armin.” He tsk’ed before speaking properly. “It’s just… Last night was seriously amazing, y/n, I’ve no words… But like… It was so nasty, I can’t look you in the eye right now...” As he said that, it was the first time since you woke up that he’d kinda looked at you, but his gaze turned to the floor quickly. “Would a blindfold make things easier for you? I’ve heard many people find it fun in the bedroom!” And now he was looking at you with the widest of eyes. He hesitated at first, but smoothly placed his arms around you. “That means no pancakes?” He gave you a small grin before gently pushing you backwards. “We can always have brunch instead of breakfast, right?”

You heard a soft groan as Jean turned over in bed, waking up slowly, only to find you staring at yourself in his bedroom mirror. You saw him peak his head from the covers, putting up his pillow and just looking at you for a while. “Hope I didn’t leave too many marks down there?” “Nope, that’s not it...”, you said, almost absent-mindedly. Your private parts kept itching all night and by the time you woke up, they were as red as strawberries. “What’s up then?”, he questioned. “My private parts are flushed.” He gave you a crooked smile, obviously proud of his accomplishment. “Are they now.” You glared back at him. “In a bad way, Jean.” You saw the smile disappear from his face as he threw away the blanket and walked over to where you stood in front of the mirror and kneeled to take a look at you. “Well… It didn’t really look like that last night, y/n...” You rolled your eyes at him. “Oh you don’t say!” You were so annoyed with him right now, you could punch him with no regrets whatsoever. “Hey, I know this is important, I just didn’t realise it was this bad. You’re upset, understandable. What can I do? Would some ice help until we can get a hold of a doctor?” He was right, you were upset, but mostly at the situation, not at him. You gave him a small smile and nodded. “I think the ice would help. Thanks, Jean!” He walked out of the bedroom and quickly returned with a clean towel made into ball. You could hear the ices cubes crackling on the inside of the towel. “Let me.” He lead you back to the bed and made you lay down, softly patting your area with the towel. “Do you have your doctor’s phone saved?”, he asked as he reached for your phone on the bedside table. “Of course I do!” You grabbed the phone from him, quickly realising you were still being mean, even though the situation wasn’t his fault. You sighed. “I’m sorry Jean, I don’t mean to lash out on you. But it’s really itchy and… Let’s just say I’m not having a good time...” You opened your contacts and scrolled to find your doctor’s number, calling her immediately to book an appointment. Jean massaged your thigh while you were on the phone, happy to hear you managed to get an appointment for a couple of hours later. As soon as you were done, he passed you the towel with the ice. “I’ll go run you a bath and when you’re ready, I’m driving you to the doctor’s, y/n.”, he said as he exited the room. “You really don’t have to, Jean, it’s fine.” He came back, a set of clean bathroom towels in his hands. “It’s my responsibility. Just let me know when you’re ready. Do you prefer a fruity or a more relaxed scent for your bubble bath, y/n?”

You were woken up by Connie’s hot breath fanning in front of your face. “You smell funny”, he said and laced his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “That’s what everyone smells after doing the shakalaka for I don’t even know how many hours, Connie. And don’t think you smell any better!” You pushed him away playfully, big smiles on both of your faces. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, y/n!” He said as he tried to drag you even closer than earlier. You physically didn’t have the energy to keep pushing him away, even as a game, so you let him hold you, even though you could already feel the sweat forming on your skin. “Are you really that fucked out?” You scoffed, but smiled. “Yes, Connie. You had no reason to wake me up!” He softly grabbed the skin on your thigh before moving his hand up and down, caressing it. “Sorry, I’m just bored. You’ve been out for quite a while.” “And I will be for a while longer, so you might as well do the same.” Hand still on your thigh, he gave you a small slap, earning a squeal from you. “No, you have to wake up so we can grab dinner and then continue where we left off!” He complained, a smug look on his face. You chuckled and turned away from him, proceeding to get out of bed. You wouldn’t be having any more sleep if Connie kept nagging you like that anyway, so you might as well order some food. “We’ve no pending tasks, Connie, there was literally nothing left uhm… Incomplete.” He wiggled his eyebrows as you left the covers fall behind you on the bed. “I know…”, he began and jumped out of bed, following you. “Still, some revising wouldn’t hurt, I believe...” He put his arms around your waist from the back, tracing a few kisses along your neck. You could only lean into his touch, one of your arms reaching to touch his neck, extending to his nape. “Thought you were hungry?” You asked, not receiving a response right away. “I am.” “For food, I mean.” You pulled yourself away. With the way it was between you two, you’d probably starve to death if you didn’t keep your hands off of each other. “Hey!”, he pouted again, trying to reach you. “First we order, and then we might continue. What say you?” He groaned, but nodded in agreement. “Hey, what do you mean by ‘might’, y/n?”.

A loud noise from the kitchen brutally woke you up. It was barely seven a.m., what could possibly be happening? You began to get yourself out of bed, when you noticed Erwin’s side was empty. Whoa, when did it become ‘Erwin's’ side? You took a mental note to think about this later. It was too early to start debating what exactly you and Erwin were. As you walked to the kitchen, though, he was nowhere to be found. Yet the noise persisted. You went for the sink for a glass of water, after being dehydrated from… Well, everything that went down last night. As you approached the kitchen, you saw two long legs stretched out on the floor, the upper part of the body disappeared into the cabinet under the sink. “What on earth are you doing, Erwin?” You questioned, not daring to pour yourself a glass of the much needed water. He emerged from the depths of the cabinet and looked at you sternly, as if he had every reason to be crouched down there. “The faucet was dripping. It drove me insane all night.” He got himself up, stretched and dusted his pants. The old man tank top he always wore underneath his shirts was still on, yet the shirt was neatly folded on the kitchen table. He reached for it, putting in on and quickly buttoning it up and pushing it into his trousers. He turned the faucet on with one swift movement as he pointed that you look into the cabinet. The water ran, unable to escape the pipe. “See? It’s not dripping anymore!” He pushed the handle down, stopping the flow of water and closing the cabinet shortly after. He gave you an almost shy smile and walked past you towards the exit. “Where are you going?” He immediately turned around to look at you, a surprised look on his face. “I never meant to wake you up, just… Couldn’t leave you with a leaking pipe.” You raised your eyebrow at him, leaning against the wall, hands folded on your chest. “You know that I owe you a treat now, right?” He began to speak but said nothing. Finally, he walked back towards you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I don’t want to take advantage of you, y/n. I’d fix the sink anyway.” You pushed his hand away and stuck your tongue out. “It’s not what I meant! But, I’d like to take you for breakfast, at least? On me, of course! Since you’ve spared me of hiring a professional.” His eyes softened. “I’ll wait till you’re ready.”

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[bayetea]

there are many things about hazel's povs that have an intensely de-racialized vibe to them (read: divorced from the black girl experience) but I think any black person will tell you that the most obvious sign is the complete lack of attention paid to her hair

like firstly:

she's from the 1930s her hair was definitely getting permed and straightened (it was not acceptable to just wear your natural hair out back then. optics + cultural assimilation/you'll be hard pressed to find photos of black american girls with unstraightened hair in that time period unless they're from like..... harlem)

I do believe that marie was straightening it for her For A Time but then she became more neglectful and stopped so hazel had to do it herself. I'm almost positive that hazel wouldn't have even been permitted to set foot in her school building without straightening it because that's just how much of an expectation it was

ok she comes back from the dead. what's she doing to her hair now bc it's not just gonna be cutesy effortless curls falling over her shoulder no matter what the length is

how does she feel about living in a time period where natural black hair is more accepted (read: more, absolutely not fully)

there are no black people around her At All. in fact she's around a lot of white people on the argo (+nico) so that would probably be giving her some intense feelings of double consciousness (look this term up if you don't know what it means) and that would inform how she feels about her hair

theoretically she ought to be wearing her hair in braids for simplicity's sake but I think it's more likely that she would cling to what she knows (perming/straightening) because it's not easy for a 14 year old girl (PSA hazel is 14.5 in hoo not 13 btw 👍) to go from assimilating to deeply-ingrained white hair beauty standards to just proudly wearing a distinctly black hairstyle all by herself

mind you black women and girls can do whatever they want with their hair and straightening/perming it does not always/have to come from a place of self-hatred or whatever but in this particular case back then straightening one's hair was political And a survival tactic. it was as normal as brushing your teeth. it was enforced through dominant cultural messagings about the Absolute Necessity of conforming to white conventions of beauty. if you don't understand then think of it similarly to how you'd think of 1930s women needing to be perpetually dolled up and modestly dressed in order to be considered "good women" and anyways I'm just saying that this would be a lot to unpack for a 14 year old girl so hazel's probably just continuing to do this impractical thing (straightening her hair all the time) like 60% out of habit and 20% out of shame and 20% she doesn't know what else to do

something something about a missed potential character arc regarding all of this and in general there's so little mind paid to race in hazel's povs which is just ridiculous to me because a black girl from the jim crow era should have at least a few feelings about where she fits into modern society even if that society is camp jupiter. rick demonstrates his capacity to talk about how his characters feel about their race most notably in the kane chronicles so I don't think was too much to ask for. see this quote from an early son of neptune chapter:

^ like....... hazel's feelings of out-of-place-ness are There in the text and important to take note of when understanding her character (note that she's been there for like a year already and she still feels like she doesn't belong) but the emphasis is always put on her Being from a different time or Being undead and is never put on her out-of-place-ness regarding her race as a black girl from segregation times who is literally so out-of-place in this weird post-racial camp jupiter society. it feels like such an obvious thing to consider so its glaring absence really bugs me when I reread her povs and it bugs me when her hair is never talked about by extension because It Matters

you might be thinking "well she had a lot going on and she's not a superficial person maybe she just didn't care what was going on with her hair" and my response is simply that Black girls don't get to "not care" about their hair it is not the same thing as a white person going to school with bedhead it's not the same thing At All (if you aren't black then chances are you've never actually seen what untouched black hair looks like in the morning), especially when it's been beaten into your head for your entire life that your hair is ugly and you have to "do something to it" for it to be acceptable (and again...... she's from the 1930s so that feeling is magnified like 50x over). remember that perpetually dolled up modest 1930s woman I mentioned previously. picture her time traveling to camp jupiter of all places in 2010 and struggling to drop all of her makeup/hairstyling routines and internalized misogyny and conceptualizations of what women are "supposed" to be. this is the kind of fascinating character exploration that we really missed out on with hazel (and tbh regardless of her race she was never believably written as someone from the 1930s. I don't think rick even really tried to be honest)

you might also be wondering "how was rick supposed to know/attempt to portray any of that" and then my second answer is that If you're going to write a character who is not the same race as you then you should do some research and we have the internet now so research has never been easier 👍 this would be especially important to do if that person is a poc from the jim crow era I think! (he could have at least googled black hair 1930s)

anyways what I choose to believe (this is pure fanfiction) is that during hazel's first year at camp jupiter (remember that she was there for about a year before son started) nico would have helped her figure something out after observing her distress over her hair c: like they both secretly watched youtube videos on black hairstyles circa 2010 and then they got attacked by monsters for using a laptop (neither of them know how to use a laptop but he's trying his best for her) but then after killing them he helped her do her hair as something she likes that is easy to maintain <3 (I could also see reyna doing this because she surely knows a thing or two from her spa days)

[theabigailthorn]

Do you think you’ll ever write a book, either philosophy related or maybe memoirs? I really love your content and your ideas and would love to know more about how you organize your worldview.

FUNNILY ENOUGH

I've been seriously considering writing a book about the way the NHS treats trans people, and more broadly about institutional pathologisation in the current global moment we're having. I've had meetings with some big publishers, even drafted an introduction and proposal, and gotten offers back!

BUT

I don't think I'm going to do it, for a few reasons. In no particular order:

Writing a book about that subject might raise the consciousness of a few folks, but does it help build material power for trans people against my country's healthcare system, and the other systems that subjectify trans people globally? Not really, no. In fact it would legitimise the elite media consensus that engaging with elite media is the path to achieving change. Books aren't just books, they're "media events," and accordingly they increase the power and prestige of the media they happen in. If I wrote this book, newspapers would review it, chart it, I'd be invited onto Radio 4 and shit to "debate" and "discuss" it... Does doing that actually help get medicine into trans people's hands? Not really! Writing books and "getting ideas out there" is pretty busted as a theory of change unless it builds power. The fantasy of writing a really good speech or article or book and suddenly the scales fall from cis people's eyes is just that - a fantasy. No minority group has ever gotten change or justice that way. All that would happen is I'd "enhance my brand" - which means that I, with my private education and privilege and opportunities, would make money and get clout whilst contributing to the elite capture of trans rights as a political struggle. I'd become "a leader in the community" and get invited to some dinners and media events and blah blah blah - meanwhile the violence continues. That media event would also enhance the brands of those cis-dominated media outlets and the "having conversations" industrial complex, who are part of the fucking problem! The struggle should be led by the poorest and most vulnerable among us and link up with other material struggles like resisting immigration raids, prison abolition, decriminalisation of drugs and sex work, etc. So I could likely do more good for my community by donating my time and money to good causes and also by some uhhhh... other stuff - let's call it 'direct assistance' - which I already do and find fulfilling.

The offers aren't that big! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Writing that book might do harm if it's co-opted into ongoing right wing attempts to dismantle the NHS and all trans care. It'd be intellectually satisfying but not creatively satisfying or fun. I'd have to immerse myself in a very bleak world for a long time: I would enjoy having done it but not the doing.

It'd ruin my career. Right now I actually fly pretty under the radar of a lot of my country's nastiest transphobes. That would end if I wrote a book about the NHS. Newspapers, editors, publishers, journalists, and probably some MPs and Lords would become very invested in tearing me down. I've seen it happen to queer writers and journalists before. Remember, Britain is a small country and our media is run out of one city by a very small group of people who all know each other and who also know all our politicians, in some cases because they're literally the same people! That book would be like kicking a hornets' nest. Maybe they'd come after me publicly, or maybe it would be more British: somebody would make a quiet phone call and I'd suddenly be radioactive. Bye-bye acting career, bye-bye any public career.

For related reasons, writing that book and doing the necessary media campaign would expose me to a WORLD of harassment and shit from some of the worst people in the universe, which I frankly don't want. That might include lawsuits.

My dream job is to play [REDACTED] in [REDACTED]. Writing a book wouldn't take me closer to that. It would cement my brand as 'trans educational writer' instead of 'actress and writer,' which is what I am.

So yeah, all in all, I don't think I'm going to do it. Not right now anyway. I reserve the right to change my mind. Think I'll write a screenplay instead!

[reinersbigmilkers]

☕️ How the aot cast takes their caffeine ☕️

Includes: Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Reiner, Annie, Bertolt, Marco, Historia, Ymir, Levi, Hange, Erwin, Pieck, Porco, Zeke

Eren: Pre-time skip, he does not fuck with the bitterness of coffee. Some tea is fine, so long as there's ample milk and sugar. He does discover that he's a fan of frappes when Armin decides to get one on a whim. And he'd definitely be weird about ordering a 'girly' drink, begging Mikasa to get it for him while trying not to make a scene. It's major "he asked for no pickles" energy between the two of them. (She'd still give him a hard time about it, regardless.) Post-time skip though, he doesn't gaf about ordering a frappe. He also doesn't really care where he gets his caffeine from. A 7/11 machine that probably hasn't been cleaned in three years? That's fine. Better yet, give him a Red Bull or a Monster since he's built such an insane tolerance. (He also has a preference for cold drinks)

Mikasa: Partial to tea, but she orders according to the weather: a London fog for a wintry day and a Vietnamese iced coffee during the summer. Oh, everyone wants to grab boba instead? A red bean matcha at 50% sweetness, no dairy, please. Mikasa also orders an affogato on occasion.

Armin: King of herbal teas, he sticks to decaffeinated drinks since he's caffeine sensitive. (He has soo many sleepy time tea boxes in his cabinet to help his insomnia.) He gets the jitters easily and doesn't care for how it can make his heart race. When he does crave caffeine, though, I could see him using a French press in order to steep it to his liking. Probably sweetens it with honey and adds a flew splashes of milk.

Jean: He's the snob of the group, but admittedly has good taste when it comes to espresso. Wdym you're getting a latte from that drive-thru barista stand?? Can't you tell that it's burnt and pulled all wrong? He'll walk out of a café if he hears the steam wand screaming: he's that particular. A cappuccino is his go-to from his favorite café and he uses a Moka pot at home.

Connie: I'm pretty sure with the last name 'Springer' he's ethnically Irish. But still, he looks soo much like a silver-toothed kid I can't view him as anything else lolol. So naturally he'd have an ice-cold Coke on deck, maybe some Jarritos in the fridge too. Connie doesn't drink coffee, and prefers sodas as a pick-me-up, especially Red Bull Italian sodas flavored with watermelon syrup.

Sasha: She's also not a coffee drinker and would rather sip on fruit teas. If they're lightly caffeinated with green or white tea leaves, she's fine with that, but doesn't like how black tea makes her lightheaded.

Reiner: He and Jean constantly butt heads on how coffee should be ordered, respectively lying on either end of the spectrum from the other. For Reiner, it's simple: add a few spoonfuls of grounds to the filter and brew. If he's feeling fancy, a plain latte will suffice. He doesn't understand how Jean can claim one shop's espresso is worse than any other's when it all tastes the same. Jean just loves to over-complicate everything, according to Reiner.

Bertolt: Finally, a based tea and coffee fan. He never gets weird about one form of caffeine being better than the other, and happily alternates between loose-leaf Earl Gray and his favorite medium roast. He just enjoys all the subtle aromas in coffee and tea, sipping his beverage as he watches Reiner and Jean debate about their drinks for the millionth time. He'll also order from the seasonal menu.

Annie: No frills no fuss, just black with a splash of half-and-half. She might whisk in some collagen powder if she's in a rush that day, just to help get some extra protein in.

Marco: Another frappe enjoyer, he's a Starbucks person lmfao. (he would NOT survive the sbx boycott) He's got the app on his phone and regularly orders a caramel frappuccino.

Historia: She's a big fan of matcha, like Mikasa, and also enjoys anything lavender flavored.

Ymir: Okay she's not quite the nonbinary barista in the black apron. But, she is the tatted-up and pierced lesbian behind the counter. Do not put her ass on the register because she will get into a yelling match with a customer over how impossible (and stupid) their drink is to make. During her fifteen she's out back, smoking and sipping on her iced oat milk latte, scrolling through twitter. (We know what you are, Ymir)

Levi: Surprisingly doesn't drink caffeine. He says he feels more 'even' without it, and has other vices like the occasional drink after a long day. He did have a phase with cold brew though.

Hange: Their go-to order is a simple chai latte, with the addition of a shot of espresso if they have a long night ahead of them. Hange's developed quite the discerning palate when it comes to their beloved chai and can tell when a joint is using pre-made syrup versus mulling the spices in-house. They're also lactose-intolerant and sticks with oat or coconut milk.

Erwin: Good god someone get this man a new coffee-maker. That thing is like old enough to vote, all the buttons are illegible, and it hasn't been descaled once in its miserable life. The poor thing's on 24/7, duct-taped to life support, and brewing up some of the strongest coffee known to man; the cracked carafe pouring its black sludge into Erwin's seasoned coffee mug. Yeah, he's that kind of person. He's been gifted plenty of new mugs, but always finds himself reaching for his unwashed tumbler that used to say "World's #1 Boss" fifty years ago.

Pieck: She prefers hot beverages year-round and loves rose flavored drinks. Pieck also enjoys a good loose-leaf English breakfast or orange-spiced black tea. She has a collection of fun animal-shaped tea infusers and prizes her Animal Crossing to-go mug.

Porco: Another no frills no fuss kind of guy, Porco keeps instant coffee stocked in his pantry and microwaves the water/milk he stirs it in.

Zeke: He's worse than a snob. He's picky. When Zeke pops into his local café, it's like the air shifts and everything suddenly goes quiet. Yeah, he'll have that shaken, not stirred, pulled as a double ristretto, blonde roast, frothed, never steamed, with room and double-sleeved. He recites his order so fucking fast too, the poor teenager at the counter helplessly stands there like they just got flashbanged. Oh, there's a rush going on? He hadn't noticed. But if he's on the go, he'll just grab a kombucha from his fridge.

[remlionheart]

Is there ANY chance you’d do a Gojo/Reader/Megumi euphoria version, just as nasty and beautiful as the other ones ??? You know, with dp, creampies, praise kinks etc

Maybe it could pick up when y/n goes back for another party like Gojo said and he found out that she also had a crush on Megumi so he invited him too and they’re all high etc. OOOFFF I got excited just by thinking about it

Let me manifest you writing this with your incredible talent 🙌🏼✨

When I tell you this had fireworks going off in my brain when I read it this morning 😮‍💨 I love all of you and your ideas so much ₊˚ෆ My schedule has been pretty tight lately between work and writing and trying not to lose my mind in the mix, but this got me up and to my laptop the minute I opened it. Manifest and you shall receive 🔮✨, ily nonnie ♡

➳ all of my euphoria fics are standalone for the most part, but meg's full story can be found here and gojo's here if you're new. this one in particular is more of an AU drabble than it is a continuation of either. (also - quick lil disclaimer: all characters are aged up to 21+, meg was raised by toji in this not gojo, and finally, i am not responsible for what i write when i'm ovulating bc this turned out fucking filthy) hope u like it ♡

۵ ⋆˙MDNI ⋆˙۵

Show and Tell ₊˚⊹♡

You stared down at your phone, rereading the text from Gojo-sensei for what had to be the tenth time when you finally took a breath and opened the front door. His living room was exactly how you remembered it: overflowing with people and music and purple lights and drunken nonsense. The only difference was that you were coherent this time and actually able to push yourself through the sea of your former classmates as you made your way up the stairs.

With each step you took though, you couldn't decide if your sobriety was a good thing or a bad thing. Your heart was jumping around in your chest, your eyes glued to the floor in a feeble attempt to avoid the suspicious eyebrow raises you were getting the closer you got to his bedroom.

“I want you over here again next weekend,” he had said in between breaths, his cum seeping out of you as he pulled out. “Got it?"

You thought it had just been the heat of the moment talking. A fleeting 3 am coke-induced thought that he'd forget about once he came back to his senses, but he didn't. He was holding onto his demands, waiting for you as you reached for the door handle.

No one was allowed in his room.

No one, except for you.

Your footsteps came to an abrupt pause, your gaze suddenly darting between the two sets of blue eyes that were looking back at you. A familiar smirk tugged at the corner of Gojo's mouth as he held his hand out, motioning with one finger for you to come closer.

Megumi watched the way you walked towards him, noting the little exhale you let out once you'd reached him. Your nervous excitement was almost as palpable as it was pitiful. A faint shade of pink decorated your cheeks as you stood between your former teacher's legs. "Open." Gojo instructed.

Megumi had heard the rumors about the two of you hooking up, but he hadn't really believed it until now. His jaw clenched, his eyes still trailing over you while you obediently lolled your tongue out for the silver-haired man. He wondered if you even knew what you were taking as Gojo placed a point of molly into your mouth, nodding proudly as you swallowed it.

It was odd, how similar you still looked to the last time he'd seen you at Jujutsu High but how absolutely unrecognizable you seemed showing off for your former teacher.

"See how good she is?" Gojo mused, breaking Megumi's train of thought. "Does exactly what she's told. Takes orders so well." Megumi's pupils widened when he noticed that you were looking at him now as Gojo began to slip your shirt above your head.

"I... should probably go -"

"Relax." Gojo said simply, his hands reaching around to unclasp your bra. Your nipples hardened as it fell to the floor, leaving you exposed in front of the two of them. "You're here for a reason."

A burst of warmth and blissful dizziness spread through your body, whatever drug he'd given you was starting to take hold. It felt different than the coke you'd done last time, but you couldn't quite place your finger on what this was. It was an overwhelming heady sensation. A fluttering in your chest. A smile you couldn't quite fight back. An insatiable urge to just touch something.

Gojo shot the raven-haired boy a grin that could've rivaled that of the devil's. "I saw the way she was looking at you the last time she was here. Think she has a bit of a crush on you." His tone was taunting, his hand running along the curve of your hip as he redirected his attention up to you. "Don't you, baby?"

You wanted to say no. Wanted to lie. Wanted to create a convincing argument against it, but the substances in your system were making it increasingly difficult to not lean into your real feelings. The things you couldn't possibly say out loud sober, the desires you'd usually bury - they were all at the forefront of your mind. Willing and ready to make their appearance the second your mouth opened again.

"I -"

But Gojo's palm found the inside of your thigh before you could get it out, you nearly moaned just from the feeling of his fingers roaming up towards your center. Everything suddenly felt so good. So unexplainably fucking good.

"Tell him." Gojo prompted, sliding your panties to the side. "Don't look at me, look at him. Tell him how bad you want him to fuck you, baby."

Even under the red glow from Gojo's headboard light, you could see the curiosity and blatant want laid out on Megumi's face. You kept your eyes locked with his as Gojo slipped a slender finger between your folds, making it impossible to keep your voice steady.

"Megumi..." it was a whimper. A sweet, lewd little nothing that made his cock twitch. You reached for his hand and he took it, slowly lacing his fingers into yours. "Will you –"

"No. That's not it." Gojo shook his head, forcing your gaze back on him as he slammed two fingers into you, almost making your knees buckle. "You're not asking, you're telling him what you want. C'mon baby, use your words."

Your whines were echoing across the room, your body grinding greedily against Gojo's digits as you looked back to Megumi with your bottom lip lodged between your teeth. Your head was everywhere. Your body so overwhelmingly sensitive.

"Megumi, please." You tried again, but it was just as desperate and feeble as before. "I... really... want – oh, fuck." Gojo was relentless, the wet sounds of him plunging into you only getting louder. "Please." you writhed against him, shooting Megumi a helpless look as your eyes began to roll. "Please, Megumi, I – want you... to... fuck, ohmygod –"

"There she is." Gojo praised, using his thumb to rub against your clit. You were clenching around him, nearly dripping as you stood before him, your vision dancing between the two men. "Keep going. Keep talking. Don't stop."

"I-want-you-to-fuck-me." It almost came out as one word with how quick and breathlessly it left your mouth. "Please. Pl – ease. Oh, fuck. Fuck... I can't.... Gojo, 'm gonna –"

It felt like something inside Megumi had snapped as he watched the orgasm rake through your body. The way your eyes glazed over. The way you leaned against Gojo for support as your cunt spasmed around him. The slick glistening down your thigh. You looked so dazed out and gorgeous, it was almost too much to handle. The molly in his system was hitting him just as hard as it was hitting you.

His fingers were still tangled firmly into yours, your knuckles almost turning white from how hard you'd been holding onto him. The second Gojo released you, Megumi was pulling you over to him, his lips meeting yours with feral urgency while he guided you on top of him.

There was an undeniable energy between the two of you. Your bodies both humming with desire as he kissed along your neck, using his other free hand to undo the buttons of his pants.

Gojo smirked watching the two of you before leaning over to his nightstand and divvying out a bump of coke for himself.

Megumi was careful as he lined himself up with your entrance, letting his tip slide in slowly. You were so wet. Already moaning with how little he'd given you. "Fuck, you feel good." He groaned, placing his hands on your hips to help pull you down further.

You gripped his shoulders, easing yourself further and further down. You felt delirious from how perfectly he was stretching you, another surge of warmth rushing over you as you matched his rhythm.

"You're s'fucking pretty." He whispered, his hips bucking up, making your eyes nearly cross as his tip met your cervix. "So cute when you're all fucked out like this."

Gojo stripped out of his pants and boxers, undoing the buttons along his shirt as he continued to watch the two of you. "She's a tight little thing, isn't she?" He smirked. "Don't worry though, she can take it." His thumb was suddenly under your chin, forcing your face next to his. "You want him to go deeper, baby?"

You nodded back him with stars in your eyes, whining into his mouth as Megumi plunged himself into you earning an arrogant smirk from Gojo. "Look at that pouty face." he teased, parting your lips with his tongue. "Such a good girl, you know that?"

The feeling of Megumi filling and laying into you while Gojo-sensei instructed him how to fuck you felt too farfetched to be real. You must've been in a dream. A delicious dream that you never wanted to wake up from.

"Oh, you're close, aren't you?" Gojo grinned, noting how feverish your movements had become. How much harder your ass was smacking against Megumi's thighs each time you came down.

He stepped away, letting you fully grab onto Megumi as you mewled out his name, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. You were clenching around him, nearly shaking from how good he felt. "Megumi, 'm - I -"

"Shh," he soothed, pulling you down onto him. "S'okay, I've got you. Look at me." There were overstimulated tears pricking at the corners of your eyes when they met his. "Let me see it."

You were writhing against him. Your eyebrows knitting together as your thighs locked in place. You slid down, taking every inch of him, making your body nearly convulse. Your pupils bloomed as your mouth fell open. Loud, incoherent whines leaving you as tears began to spill down your cheeks. "I'm cumming." You cried. "Fuck, Megumi. I'm cumming, I'm cumming, 'm -"

You were inconsolable, spasming against him with fervor as you drenched him. "Oh my god," he groaned, feeling himself teetering on the verge of his breaking point too. You were smothering him.

His head spinning from how snug and warm your walls were, how they just kept getting tighter around him the harder he continued to pump into you. You were so pretty to look at - the way your tits bounced perfectly with each thrust, the way your eyes stayed focused on him, the way you kept whimpering out his name in this adorably pitiful broken voice. This entire thing felt like dream to him too. A salaciously beautiful haze that he'd think about for at least the rest of his life.

"I'm about to cum." He warned you, unsure where you wanted it. Gojo stepped back in, standing behind you to place his hands on your shoulders as he pushed you down further, drawing out another blitzed-out noise from you.

"Let her have it." Gojo nodded, holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail while he kissed the side of your neck, his free hand drifting down to your clit. The sensation made you grind against him even faster, moaning into Gojo's mouth as Megumi filled you. "Good girl." he whispered. "Look at how well you're takin' him, baby. Makin' me so fuckin' proud."

Gojo helped guide you off of him once you were both done, careful to lift you as a mixture of fluids spilled out of you. "Messy girl." Gojo smirked. "Need you to get him all cleaned off before he goes back out there, 'kay?"

You looked at him from over your shoulder, giving him a dizzy smile as he bent you over and Megumi spread his legs apart to accommodate you.

He was so spent. So high. So blissfully exhausted, he wasn't sure it'd be possible for him to cum again this soon. But the minute he felt your tongue press against his base, the way you looked up at him through those heavy lashes - he quickly realized that he had at least one more left in him.

Gojo took his time, admiring how puffy and pretty your leaking pussy was. He'd gone easy on you last weekend. Tried to keep his roughness to a minimum, but he knew you were ready.

He rubbed his tip between your folds, wetting himself with the slick. "Stay focused on your breathing."

It was the same thing he'd told you the last time he entered you, only it held new meaning now that you had a mouthful of cock and Gojo-sensei's girth inside you. Your back arched for him, your eyes glazing over as Megumi's hand tangled into your hair.

"You've got it." Megumi reassured you. "Just like that."

Gojo's grip was tightening around your hips the further he went. "Don't stop just because I'm in you, I wanna see you take that whole thing."

You mewled against Megumi, drool dripping down your chin while Gojo pummeled further into you. You kept one hand on him, slowly pumping as you tried to find a good rhythm, but Gojo's pace was picking up, rocking you back and forth and making you forget how to breathe altogether.

"Gojo-sensei ~" you whined.

The formality only made his thrusts more punishing, but your walls were sucking him in so faithfully no matter how hard he went. Your body absolutely melting at his touch.

"Focus." his tone was stern, his hips meeting yours condemningly. "Show me how bad you want this. If you stop, so will I."

You opened your mouth wider, letting the pool of spit you'd gathered glide down Megumi's length as he lightly pressed your head down. "Oh shit." He muttered, watching you take almost all of him.

"There you go." Gojo praised, his hand reaching around to meet your clit again. "See how good that feels, baby? To have my cock buried in you and his down your throat?"

His fingers were drawing heavenly circles around you, the room filling with the carnal sounds of him bullying himself into you and you slurping and lapping up every bit of Megumi. You were a whimpering, soaking mess. Moaning out both of their names now each time you came up for air.

"She's already getting close again." Gojo mocked. "Poor thing, she's just so sensitive."

His fingers swirled firmly across your clit, feeling the slick that was building as Megumi thrusted himself into your mouth. Your eyes were watering again. Your legs shaking and your heart ready to beat straight out of your chest from how obscenely euphoric it all felt.

Megumi moaned prettier than any man you'd ever heard. The noises he was making alone were almost enough to keep you going. You nearly choked on him when you finally felt him twitch inside you, coating your throat with warmth as his head lulled back.

"Fuck." he rasped, pulling your head back up to look at you. "You have no idea how perfect you feel."

You gave him a glazed over smile, your cunt throbbing as Gojo continued to dominate you. He could feel you about to bottom out. "She's so ethereal, isn't she? Like a fucked-out angel." He mused, watching you reach for Megumi's hand as you clenched around him.

You were completely incoherent, your vision blurred by molly and red lights and the softness of Gojo's sheets. Megumi leaned in to kiss you, still letting you squeeze his hand for support. "God, you're gorgeous." He breathed. "Keep goin'. You're right there."

You kissed Megumi so hard you were afraid you were going to hurt him, but he didn't seem to mind, holding you tighter as you shook and moaned against his lips. “There it is.” He nodded. “You love cumming all over us, don't you?"

You nodded helplessly, tears still streaming down your face as you returned his small smile. "So - much." You choked out, your pussy clamping around Gojo as he pounded his release into you.

You were so unexplainably full, almost afraid that you wouldn't be able to stand once Gojo pulled out of you, but he helped get you to your feet.

"My little show-off," He smirked, placing a light kiss on your forehead. "Always such a teacher’s pet.”

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

[prone-to-fleeting-obsessions]

Dating Sunday Affection hc's

I have now played 2.2, no spoilers though

If you're the kind of person that really likes spontaneity, Sunday probably isn't the person for you...

He's got about five itineraries going at once

What meals are being prepared, the clothing you'll wear through the week, exactly what days chores need to be done on, all on top of his meetings and other droning work

So, pretty much all dates and outings are preplanned down to the most insignificant details, ensuring everything runs perfectly

Sunday needs control of his environment

Any little hitch could be a potential threat to your safety!

Chances are, most of the outings and time spent together outside of your shared home, is done in the dreamscape, where he has complete control

Lovely little picnics with the most exquisite view of the beautiful dreamscape sky, or any view you want really, will be off limits to everyone else (except maybe a few trusted dreamweavers, in order to ensure nothing happens)

He's an anxious mess, though he hides it well, every time anyone else approaches you for any reason, his arm around you always, pulling you right into him so he's prepared

That being said, he does truly enjoy going out with you

Walking around the dreamscape, holding your hand or linking arms as he watches all of your perfect reactions with a soft smile, tightening his hold a little when he worries you might run off...

His eyes rarely leave your face in those moments, as if trying to memorize every little micro expression

"I'm merely curious on what you find most pleasing. We're always looking for guest feedback, love." He'll tell you with a reassuring little quirk of his lips, as if his eyes don't soften every time you smile

He's partly true to his word, taking mental notes of everything you like to implement it further, and maybe even make a particular little slice of the dreamscape all for you

One where you can live happily forever, with every little thing you could ever want... It consumes his mind most waking hours

Affection wise he's always very reserved in public, and even embarrassed easily in private at the beginning

That fades soon enough, with him happily taking every opportunity to remind you how much he loves your sweet smile

He unconsciously covers the two of you kissing with his wings, as if creating a little shield, even in private

His wings in particular are known to show his emotions far more than his practiced expressions, twitching and fluttering and even flapping right in front of his face when surprised

When annoyed they'll fluff a little, and when really angry they look as sharp as blades

In public he usually kisses your hand, looking up into your eyes while doing so in a way that feels far too intimate

A lot of his public acts are subtle, adopting your walking pace, keeping a close eyes on your heart rate, gently guiding you when you stray a bit, glaring at anyone who gets too close

He'll probably always default to big spoon, to holding you and comforting you and dote on you

He just wants your happiness, your satisfaction, your safety...

Everything he does is for you

During the beginning of your relationship, he tenses at every little unexpected noise

Being the partner of a powerful figure can be dangerous!

It's not his fault he lays awake at night, watching your breath with unblinking eyes, grappling with these horribly overwhelming feeling of desperation

You need to be safe. You need to be safe.

He's not particularly fond of having his eyes off of you, but the eyes of trusted bodyguards will have to suffice for when he has no choice...

This is especially true with the fear of "death" in the dreamscape at it's peak... You won't spend a single second out of his sight, if he lets you enter the dreamscape at all

The strong should protect the weak, it's his responsible to protect you, in every way possible, no matter what, forever...

He loves you, an overwhelming amount, a truly heartbreakingly tragic amount

No matter what, he hopes you'll love him too

[midnightshindig]

Could you do a Debbie x fem!Reader story? I think she'd be cute with a girlfriend. Also, if it's Debbie's first time with another woman maybe they're using some toys in the bedroom.

Debbie x Fem!Reader

Okay here's where I tell you that I don't know how to write wlw intimacy bc I'm a gay man. I should probably know more about Saphics, like 3/5 of my family are wlw...

REGARDLESS, this is all sfw and wholesome and stuff. Please enjoy!

As alwaysss, hcs under the cut!

Olga takes Debbie to a gay bar

It's not for any particular reason, Olga's one of those women who views sexuality as fluid and so is Debbie

but she's not here to hook up

Olga just doesn't want weird dudes hitting on them

So they're at the club, and Debbie is enjoying herself for the first time in a long time. she's worried she might be a little old to be there, and that everyone there looks her sons age. Gross

she's about to go home when the bartender calls her over and slides her a martini

"oh- I'm sorry. I didn't order this." She smiles politely, sliding it back a little

"Naw miss, that lady at the end of the bar ordered it for you."

She looks down and there's this gorgeous woman in a frilly dress waving at her with a sweet smile

She doesn't look old, but definitely older than the freshly twenty one-year-olds polluting the rest of the club

and hell, maybe it's because Debbie is lonely or because of the way you're waving at her, but she goes over to you

"Um. Hello. My name is Debbie." She's stiff, awkward, out of practice, but she's endlessly charming in the effortless way her earrings twinkle as she extends a hand

You kiss her knuckles, looking up at her from your seat at the bar "Debbie, that's cute. I'm Y/n. It's a pleasure to see a gorgeous lady like you in a place like this."

Her face flushes red at your comment

"Oh my, well I- I'm flattered. But I'm not-" she pauses, before really considering her words

She'd been with women before, before Nolan. She'd been happy before Nolan.

Couldn't she be happy after Nolan?

"you're not?" you raised an eyebrow, crossing your legs "oh! I'm sorry, I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, you're just really pretty- and I would hate to have missed my chance."

"No! No.. Haha, I'm." Debbie hesitates, before looking to Olga, whose smiling at her encouragingly "Would you like to get out of here?"

So the two of you end up walking around the area, getting a bite to eat at a local late night burger place.

The night was so heavenly and calm and enjoyable

Debbie hadn't been romanced like this in a while. Pursued like the capable, intelligent, beautiful and alluring woman she was

And you were so nice, so gentle and understanding and courteous

You didn't even bat an eyelash when she told you her husband was a dead superhero

"i''m sorry to hear that, Debbie. That sounds really difficult, you carry it well."

She's so flattered, and to be honest, you're really pretty in your own right

Like cmon a cute woman like you? Hitting on her? how can she say no?

So you two start going on dates, and then start going out, eventually she introduces you to Mark and Oliver

That goes about as well as you think it would

Mark is resistant to change, but he's glad Debbie has someone to be there for her

and boy are you there for her

you show up for her in every way

peak "you cook and I'll do the dishes and clean the kitchen" couple

She likes to fold laundry while you tell her about your job and day and whatever

You, in turn, like to listen to her whine about work or vent about life while you sweep

The two of you are a little power couple, and you have no issue chewing out whoever is mean to your lady

Straight up normal no-power gay girl going toe to toe with Cecil Stedman

you're a GREAT influence on Oliver, and are such a big help in keeping Debbie sane through it all

This kid adores your graphic liner and silly fashion, dude eats it up

Lowkey makes him a less boring kid, as he demands you do fun makeup looks on him

but like he's still a little guy and suuuuch a dude bro at times

You all go on a train together to show him what they're like and he just loses it when you convince the conductor to let him see the front

He adores you, which, in turn, makes Mark more fond of you

you're not a family per see, but you fit nicely into Debbie's life, and make her so happy

She couldn't do it without her loving girlfriend <3

[skyfallscotland]

Things that got me a little frustrated with Onyx Storm in no particular order 💔

Please be nice, this is an addendum to my main Onyx Storm review post, and there is also a post about things I loved 🙏 I'm just a sensitive heart with superior pattern recognition (I'm mentally ill lol) and I struggle when I don't understand things—and I understood nothing.

I find it really hard to just go with the flow, I hate it when I don't understand things, and being confused just didn't make for a good reading experience for me. So here goes:

The magic system being entirely retconned.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper. I’m marked by their magic as a rider now, as their rider.

It's consistently referred to as "their" magic or "Andarna's magic" or "Tairn's magic" in the first two books, but in this one, the continent has magic and outside it, they're powerless?

Oh, except Vi for...reasons?

The marked ones all having second signets? This felt like fan service or a retcon. Why haven't any of them gone crazy? Because statistically some of them should have (and it would have at least been interesting). And if Liam could wield ice and use farsight, and that wasn't initially an error, why not wield it when Deigh was literally being chewed to death?

Continuous mentions of Xaden hearing actual fucking thoughts for god's sake that just get dropped and never picked up again? Par for the course. Don't even talk to me about it, I'm done.

Sgaeyl not talking to Xaden all book? Does she realise she would have died too, they all would have died if he hadn't done what he did? Mum pls the silent treatment sucks (this might be a personal trauma so we can probably scratch it, actually)

Andarna leaving then coming back almost immediately? I get it, she wanted to meet her shitty family, but this would have had more impact if she'd stayed when they were on the island. It felt like I got teary at her exit for nothing, like it was a ploy. I think I have whiplash.

Violet saying quite literally her most pressing need is information and then deciding no actually it's to know what her baby dragon is dreaming about in her dreamless sleep? Is this a joke? 😭

Violet is suddenly Adrian Ivashkov 💀 And what’s that got to do with who they are at their core? I’m lost! 😭

Also, those not-dreams never being explained? Like we know it's Berwyn calling him, but seriously Xaden, click on pls!

Xaden's mother showing up for...no reason? Really? Nice emotional arc, I enjoyed it, it was one of my favourite sequences, but she wasn't important to the story at all and we just?? Left?????

(I also want to punch her in the face, how dare she)

Finding out Halden's been doing...something??? At the Isles this whole time?? For Reasons, I guess??? I don't know, someone else might need to explain that to me.

(How I felt ^) Oh! And him being a twin? Basic information we could have known before—and I still don't know what happened to Alic, really. Like I want the whole story? 🥺

Violet's hair, the temple, all of that someone's going to have to explain to me like I'm five too because it's not clicking, I'm sorry. Also the temples/priestesses have magic? Their own different type of magic? And they aren't venin either? What makes a venin, a venin? My head is still spinning.

Aetos being back defying all logic (the aide to exile to in charge of everything pipeline really is something) and then he disappears entirely and is irrelevant? 😭 Why bring him back at all? What was the reason?

This is like the continuity that says Degrensi kicked Varrish out for being too torture-y and then they put him in charge of torturing kids, and then Degrensi followed Varrish's orders (even though he's below him in the chain of command and he hates him) last year to keep Xaden away from Violet all the time, but wait, now Degrensi gives no fucks about following orders???? I'm?? I just spent so much time being like wait, what?

Xaden who can literally command shadows for some reason not being able to sneak into Violet's room? And that same Xaden having zero control so they can't have sex, but then suddenly when it was time for another evenly spaced out sex scene, him being totally fine????? Is it ✨a mindset✨ ??

Violet having her memories wiped? For? Reasons???? Seriously for what purpose could the literal wedding ceremony part not have been remembered, please, that’s just mean Rebecca.

Aaric just Not telling anyone about his signet even though it would have meant more people living??? Aaric's name being CAMLAEN?????

I get that that’s a literary device, but on top of everything else I still felt like I was chasing my tail 😩

Professor Riorson teaching everyone for months, incl that signets have perfect counters, like his shadows and Violet's lightning, then sending Violet off to face the lightning/storm wielding gal while he went to face a guy he's literally incapable of killing? HELLO, should you not realise and switch?! Don’t be a dumb dumb (also a literary choice but it annoyed me so it’s here, please never battle the elite four Xaden, you’d fail).

Also oh look there's no rune on Brennan's neck like the one on his hand—sorry WHAT? are we implying that's from Naolin mending him or what? Do you know about it? Fucking say so, you sure as fuck haven't told us Vi???? It really bothers me that Violet apparently knows things and we don't. I feel like that's what third-person-POV is for, if you want to do things like that.

I still don’t know why venin can channel within the wards at all? And the wardstone was so easily altered after all that drama in IF?

Why aren't we reading Lilith's journals? Vi, sweetheart, please, give me some joy here.

Where are the other foster kids??? I still can't see how they're safe and not leverage, especially now it's looking like it will be a full-on secession bid once more.

Tyrrendor mines talladium?!

SURPRISE GRANDMA??? PLEASE!!

As you can see, I have a lot of questions—more than I had at the end of the last book, because none of those were answered, so I just have...this bigger pile of questions.

If you can read along and not think about any of these things and just not be bothered by the not knowing of it all, then I'm jealous of you. I really, really wish I could, but that's just not how my brain works and as someone with a mental illness I get tired of having to defend that to other people, it makes me feel like shit, honestly. I don’t want to think about these things, I just do. Like yeah, I hate my brain too but I have to live with it.

There were plenty of things I liked about this book, but my overall experience was that it felt messy, chaotic, and overwhelming.

Even the end—I still don't understand what happened fully, and I know that's on purpose, but after not understanding anything the whole book and having my questions from the last book go unanswered, I don't exactly appreciate it as a literary technique, I just find it frustrating 😟

In any case, these are just my out-of-pocket, personal opinions typed up late at night with zero filter, please don't come for me (lol), you don't need to agree—in fact, I know people don't, I ran a poll—this is just...how I'm feeling right now. It's a sucky feeling, but it is what it is.

I hope I can do a re-read at some point and enjoy it more, and get a better grasp on things, but for now...🖤

[professorspork]

Do you have any new gelphie pairing faves or analyses from your Great Wicked Watch?

OOH THANK YOU FOR ASKING

things are still In Progress, so really the only true conclusion I've reached so far is one I already could have told you: the earlier gelphies are way less gay. Like, mad respect bc they were what we had at the time and there's still plenty there to dream on, but compared to how later actresses play them it's really NOT that queer of an interpretation of either role, and isn't as much to my taste. Chenzel just doesn't Do It for me; Megan Hilty's Glinda is deeply affectionate but it's in such an obvious "hey soul sister" way I don't see My Glinda in her.

some random thoughts in no particular order:

I was very taken with Julia Murney and Kendra Kassebaum's chemistry, though I didn't find any one performance of theirs where I felt like it sustained throughout both acts the way I'd like.

I can now say with confidence it's no WONDER I didn't realize I was a Glinda Girlie in my youth, bc my first live Glinda was Jennifer Laura Thompson and her Glinda is among the colder ones (though not as cold as Kate Reinders SHE DOESN'T EVEN TOUCH ANA GASTEYER ONCE IN FOR GOOD GIRL WHAT GIVES). like it does make me LAUGH when, for example, Galinda says "but that was the milkflowers' fault" as though it ends in "you moron" but it is not my Preferred Reading

(on the other hands Nessas who embrace being a self-absorbed cunt start to finish are fabulous and I love them)

I've surprised myself with how fondly I latched onto Shoshana "Smol Bean" Bean's portrayal of Elphaba bc I usually prefer my Elphies far more acerbic, but her view of the character is so crystal-clear and consistent throughout I can't help but be taken with it

more Elphabas should do the "I'm melting" pose during "so happy I could melt" the way Stephanie J Block does

it is very hard to find a good Fiyero who actually has chemistry with BOTH girls, but a bad Boq will lowkey ruin the show in a way a bad Fiyero honestly doesn't

more Dr Dillamonds should refrain from touching their students sir you are a PROFESSOR, SIR--

my inventing something post was inspired by Annaleigh Ashford's first Popular, which I feel really captured something critical in how it unfolded of like... it's like you can almost watch Galinda start getting addicted, it's this compulsion, how the touches become more frequent and more intimate and she doesn't understand why but can't seem to control herself, and it's such a classic pre-gay-awakening "I don't know I just think she's REALLY COOL and want to be her BEST FRIEND" take on it that I loved

our rewatch has just entered the Katie Rose Clarke era, and as someone who started with her and Willemijn it's fascinating to go back to her first tour with Carmen and see how genuinely she WAS trying to play the scenes with Fiyero straight which she eventually gave up on lmao

okay I could probably keep yammering but I'm gonna cut it off there for now