#im posting cringe and i beg my friends here to look away and ignore me lmao

[lust4lore]

i’m back with more joe rantz songs. ignore the cringe and feel out the concept please im begging:

pink in the night by mitski

so it goes… by taylor swift

tear in my heart by top

me and my husband by mitski

work song by hozier

it’s nice to have a friend by taylor swift

it’s nice to have a friend ! 💗

A/N: please ignore the fact reader is technically supposed to be in a dorm 😍 also, i love songfics! hope this was something you were looking for. NOT PROOFREAD 🗣️🗣️🗣️

joe rantz who offers— who insists on walking you home after dinner. ‘it’s dangerous out here this time of night, just… let me take you, please, the walk’s not far’ for a moment, you’re conflicted. you don’t want to impose, you tell him, put him out of his way; but then, he looks down at you with that kind smile and those soft eyes, and, well, you’d be a fool to turn him down.

joe rantz who always has an eye on you, observing the way your eyes light up when you speak about something you love, engraining into his mind the warmth of your smile or the sweetness of your laughter. his gaze is fixed on you like he can’t look away, and so it’s inevitable that he notices the goosebumps that decorate your skin as the temperature catches up with you, the ones that would be invisible to anyone else. joe rantz who slips his jacket over your shoulders when he does.

joe rantz who enjoys his crewmates but enjoys you more, sneaking away from the noise of the post-win celebration to sit up on the roof with you. the two of you watch as the sun sinks into the horizon, the sky a soft pink above your heads. he asks you about yourself— about where you want to go, who you want to be, what you want to do— and you feel like it’s the first time anyone’s taken you seriously. you like him, you decide, and it’s apparent in the way your breath catches when his hand brushes yours.

joe rantz who comes to the conclusion that there couldn’t be a happier man on earth, carrying you over the threshold of the home you now share as church bells ring throughout seattle. you’re wearing a wedding dress and a bright smile, and he’s convinced he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

[awesome-cookies-and-cream]

the funny thing about kyuushi is how it drops lore in akajas instead of the main manga but because it’s an episodic gag manga, i guess you can’t help it. but with all the lore i got so far (and what a difficult thing it is. thank you dedicated fans) i think i like how the central theme really is the human-vampire (esp hunter) relationship.

am i really writing meta about the vampire cock and boobs show? of fucking course. though less than meta it’s just me writing my thoughts

but with the recent akaja with northdin, it really occurred to me that the lore’s narrative had always hung on the fact that the 1800′s was a difficult time for everyone and now times are changing. how the vampire-human conflicts probably had so many casualties and how what we’re seeing is the aftermath of the event. a post-war recovery, if you will and it’s been centuries sure but vampires live so long it might as well be just five years ago to them. the vampire lore seems to be a story about how you deal with the after effects of conflict when you live so damn long. in fact, it’s so deep in the dragon clan’s narrative, that their feelings of loneliness, failure, and frustrations all goes back to that time.

Grandpa misses his friend (who is a hunter lmao) and thinks wistfully about how the time has changed and humans and vampires working together is such a lovely sight (as seen when he played tag with everyone in shin-yoko). he misses helsing so much and hopes he was still around to show what humans have done in the present. “Take care of your human friend” he says to Draluc, looking so sad most of the time but trying to connect with humans due to his fondness for them.

Mira doesn’t care much for humans but because of the conflicts and her hopes to make a better world for her son, she ended up not seeing him throughout his childhood and not even knowing him 200 years later. she doesn’t know the man he’s become. she doesn’t know he has a familiar. she doesn’t know he loves his friends and he’s happier with them. she knows he was lonely but simply thought it was her failure that made it so. so she selfishly kidnapped her own son and turned him into a kid again to fulfill her own desires. she was worried and frustrated at the fact that she seemed to have missed her chance to be with him until draluc pointed out that there was still time to get to know each other

Draus sheltered his son and did all he could to keep him safe knowing he was weak. (when northdin mentioned how seeing draluc die was so chilling, he understood why Draus was like that) the human-vampire conflict worsened his anxiety for his son who could not use the dragon blood’s powers due to how weak he was. so he ended up spoiling him, his only son. he even made a ring to ensure the kid’s protection from other clans. he met with the other clan leaders and in his own way and influence, tried to make the world a better place for him. By the time his son sought independence, he still couldn’t help but worry about him.

And then there’s northdin who does not like humans at all. like Draus, he worries for Draluc in his own way even when the kid had no respect for him. (like fucking hell that akaja) he’s anxious about trying to make the kid stronger because the human conflict is getting worse, which was why he took the kid under his wing to begin with. He cared for the kid to the point of running straight to them when he found out an exorcist had found draluc, even begging that he could drive a stake to his heart if he promised to keep the kid safe. and it was this that changed clergy at the time of the human-vampire conflict too! which led to northdin turning him and how he’s lived with the regret when he didn’t wake up to the point that his diary is a mess (again that fucking akaja) and now they met and there’s closure to it.

and then there’s draluc who is caught in between. being young and sheltered to not know enough about the conflict (i mean he sat and had tea with a goddamn exorcist lol) and having experiences that’s indirectly caused by the conflict. his weakness and sheltered life in the middle of the fights had isolated him from others, but also made him lonely. his mother couldn’t see him due to her work. he didn’t have friends and he was treated as a delicate thing. his first friend was John, who he was reluctant to take with him due to the fear of trapping him forever in a life of eternal loneliness with him (even though he was so overjoyed at finally having a friend!) “im not lonely. i have john” but it’s different now that he’s in shin-yoko. everyday has been fun for him.

and now, in the present you can see how these people are trying to heal from the aftermath and how ronaldo and draluc’s relationship is somehow central to it, the proof of the future they had aspired, or the closure they had always wanted. ronaldo and draluc’s easy friendship has touched grandpa, who had always wanted the easy friendship between vampires and humans (edit: i reread the grandpa tag chapter and he had a flashback of his friend through ronaldo?? god fucking dam), how ronaldo and hinaichi looking for draluc when mira took him made her understand that his son is not the kid he used to know, that she didn’t really know him but it’s not too late to. How Ronaldo being there to take care of draluc had reassured Draus that his son would be okay and he won’t be lonely. (northdin is a work in progress lol. but he’s also working on his issues with his guilt for clergy. which draluc was responsible for ahaha) 

and now Draluc is no longer lonely and has someone to be with. someone who is always fun and doesn’t treat him like a delicate flower (for better or worse) but is also reliable enough to save him (ranging between kidnapping to the getting flushed down the drain lol) and they’re trying to love happy now. a lot of vampires are. so i think it’s nice. i have no idea what im saying.

[hermannsthumb]

Because I am in a mood for horrible things, what do you think of Hermann getting to close to uncovering the truth so Precursor possessed Newt seduces him into bed as a distraction? Bonus if the Precursors taunt Hermann about it later.

i know this ask is from like. august. but i literally filled this ages ago and FOR SOME REASON....NEVER POSTED IT UP. looking over it now it’s definitely because right after i wrote it i was like :( no bonus unfortunately thatd probably kill me to write

so im editing it a little bit but....here is one of the only uprising compliant fics ive ever written LOL (also the “play with your test tubes” line is ripped literally directly from the novelization. which i never bothered to read bc i hated the film but i have some Choice bits saved via a friend. like the test tubes line) rated E/18+ below cut

There’s something off about Newton.

Newton’s always been vain. He always did his hair up with too much product and wore jeans a bit too tight and stressed and fretted over even the smallest wrinkle, but he never wore suits like this before, never kept himself so perfectly shaven, never kept his waist so trim. He’s lost his soft edges, the glasses that used to frame his face so nicely. He’s colder, too—colder to strangers, colder to Hermann. They fought in the past, of course, argued incessantly, took petty jabs at each other’s disciplines, but Newton never outright refused to discuss research with Hermann before.

Hermann’s research won’t matter, Newton says, his drones will make this obsolete, Hermann’s wasting his time, Hermann shouldn’t bother.

It’s been a decade, Hermann knows, people change in a decade, Hermann himself has changed in a decade (Hermann’s a little lonelier, a little sadder, a little more spontaneous, a little messier), but there’s something off. Something wrong. Hermann can’t quite place it. Hermann—

“You should come ‘round for dinner,” Newton says. His demeanor has changed, so subtly—all business before, but now, he’s standing close, eyelids half-mast, lips curled into a lazy smile. “We could catch up. Talk about that experiment of yours. Play with your—” Newton casts a little glance at the door, then takes a step forward, drags a finger down Hermann’s chest, “—test tubes.”

“Oh,” Hermann says, mouth hanging open, and something is very wrong, but it’s been so long since he’s made love to Newton, so long since he’s been the subject of Newton’s raw desire, some ten long, long years spent without Newton’s kisses and Newton’s touch. “Ah. I.”

Newton drags his finger lower, skimming over the fastening Hermann’s trousers, and Hermann’s knees threaten to buckle. “Mm?”

“Dinner,” Hermann stammers. “Dinner would be lovely, Newton.”

“Tomorrow night,” Newton says, snapping his hand away, and he’s as brisk and businesslike as he was before. “I’ll have my people pick you up when you’re done with—” He waves his hand at the mess of Hermann’s lab and wrinkles his nose. “This. Yeah?”

“Alright, Newton,” Hermann says, heart pounding. “Thank you.” He nearly cringes at the words before they leave his mouth—how weak, how pathetic Newton must see him, grovelling like a desperate ex-lover for the slightest bit of attention. (Is he an ex-lover?)

“And, uh, wear something nice,” Newton says, looking Hermann up and down skeptically. Hermann’s hands go to his collar immediately, smoothing over it, self-conscious; he quite likes this shirt. He thought Newton would’ve liked it, which is why he wore it today in the first place. Newton doesn’t notice, just slips his sunglasses back on. He’s gone with a little wave and without a second glance.

Newton’s people pick Hermann up exactly as Newton promised the following night. He sends a big, fancy car, far more extravagant than anything either of them have owned in their entire lives, with a minibar in the back. The driver tells Hermann Dr. Geiszler insists Hermann make himself comfortable, have as many drinks as he’d like. “Why couldn’t Dr. Geiszler be here, then?” Hermann says, politely refusing the man’s attempts to take his suit coat for him.

The driver doesn’t answer.

He gets shown to the front of Newton’s condo complex, gets instructed to the right room, and then he’s riding the elevator up and standing in front of Newton’s door. He almost can’t bring himself to knock. “It’s unlocked,” Newton calls from inside as Hermann raises his hand, almost like he can sense Hermann. Perhaps some strings of their neural link remain, frayed and weakened by time though they may be. “Come on in.”

Hermann pushes open the door. Newton’s condo is far too extravagant, far too elegant for Hermann’s and Newton’s tastes, marble countertops and windows the size of walls, but that’s not what makes Hermann nearly stumble, grip his cane hard, makes him say “Newton?” in surprise.

There’s candles lit on what’s presumably the dining table, the counters, the coffee table, and Newton’s leaning against the table with a glass of wine and in a very sheer robe. It’s more like lingerie than anything. There’s absolutely nothing beneath it. Hermann snaps his eyes up, and Newton sets his glass down. “Hermann,” he says, and swoops in, throws his arms over Hermann’s shoulders. He’s so warm, so close, and it’s so much after nothing for so long, and Hermann very nearly gasps when Newton presses their lips together in a kiss.

“Newton,” Hermann repeats, feeling vaguely foolish, because he’d been hoping the night would go like this but didn’t by any means expect it, “what are you—that is—?”

Newton flutters his eyelashes prettily. “I wanted to dress up for you,” he says, and wraps his fingers around Hermann’s neat tie.

“I wanted to talk about my research,” Hermann says weakly. “We—”

Newton rubs his hips against Hermann’s, bare skin on fabric. Newton’s already hard, the head of his prick flushed red. (This isn’t right, Hermann thinks, something isn’t right with Newton, but oh, Newton is so handsome, so lovely, only more so with age, with the grey at his temples and the little lines at the corners of his eyes that Hermann wants nothing more than to kiss over and over. Hermann should’ve been there to watch him grow old.) “Research?” Newton says. He gives an exaggerated pout. Purposefully silly. It’s more like the Newton Hermann remembers. “That’s boring, man, come on.”

“I suppose—ah.” Newton leans back in and runs his tongue along Hermann’s lower lip, rubs his prick at the front of Hermann’s trousers again, and Hermann’s brain feels fuzzy.

“Come sit,” Newton says in his ear, and he threads the fingers of his right hand with Hermann’s left and tugs him forward. Hermann lets Newton pull him to the sofa and sit him down, lets him set his cane aside delicately, and then Newton settles himself down atop Hermann’s lap. “Hermann,” he sighs, nosing at Hermann’s neck, “I missed you so much, honey. I’ve been so lonely without you.” He picks up one of Hermann’s hands and slides it across his chest, just over one of his nipples, and rubs his prick against the front of Hermann’s nice dress shirt. He lowers his voice. “Do you still remember how I like to be touched?”

Of course Hermann remembers. He remembers how to draw sighs from Newton, gasps of pleasure, how to take him apart until he’s trembling in Hermann’s arms and breathing out pledges of love. He wonders if Newton remembers how to do the same for him. Hermann brushes his thumb over the nipple presented so readily in front of him and feels Newton shiver. “Newt,” he croaks (he came to talk about business, about his research), “I really could use your input on my work. Ah.” Newton worries Hermann’s earlobe between his teeth. “You see. Newton. Ah. It’s not quite finished, you see—”

“Mm-hmm?” Newton hums, working open Hermann’s top few buttons. Hermann can’t help but rub his thumb over the same nipple once more and elicit another little shiver of pleasure.

“The equation,” Hermann says, as Newton kisses his throat and Hermann strains in his trousers, “I’m missing—” Newton takes his other hand, pushes it under the fabric of the little sheer robe and down his lower back, down to the curve of his ass, and Hermann lets out a deep groan. “Oh, Newton…”

“C’mon,” Newton says, and bites at his earlobe again. “We can talk after.” He’s grinning. Hermann’s too entranced by him to do anything but nod.

Newton takes him to bed, then, to his ridiculous, absurd, oversized bed, pushes Hermann down and rides him fast, doesn’t even bother to take Hermann’s shirt off fully and leaves Hermann’s trousers bunched around his knees, cries and begs and tells Hermann how much he missed him, how much he’s wanted him for so long.

(“Why didn’t you call,” Hermann snarls, gripping Newton’s thighs hard enough to leave red half-moons against his inked skin, “why didn’t you email, or text, or—”)

(It’s the best orgasm Hermann’s had in ten years.)

“Stay the night,” Newton says later, propped up on his elbow and idly tracing across Hermann’s jaw with his finger. “I’ll make everything up to you, starting tomorrow.”

There’s a curtain covering something in the corner of Newton’s bedroom, something big, something Hermann hadn’t noticed in his previous haze of lust, and Hermann can’t stop staring. He doesn’t like it. “Newton, love,” Hermann begins.

“I’ll actually make dinner,” Newton continues, not noticing Hermann’s discomfort. Perhaps ignoring it. He nips at Hermann’s throat. “Whatever you want. Or we could go out somewhere fancy. There’s a place—”

“What is that?” Hermann points at the curtain.

Newton steals a little kiss. “Forget about that rocket fuel,” he says, lips brushing against Hermann’s. “I don’t want you hurting yourself. Or worse. I mean, what would I do without you, Hermann?”

Hermann tears his eyes away from the curtain, his chest clenching painfully. Ten years of radio silence from Newton. “You seem to be faring pretty well without me,” he spits out, bitter.

Newton straddles Hermann’s waist again, pressing kisses to his neck once more. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I’ve just been so busy, Hermann, and stressed, it wasn’t on purpose, I’d never blow you off like that on purpose.” He rubs their noses together. “I love you.”

Hermann wraps his arms around Newton, holding him in place. Newton has been busy, he supposes, and stressed, which would explain why he’s been so odd, so distant. He still makes love the same—vocal, enthusiastic, eager to please Hermann and be pleased in return—still kisses the same, still touches Hermann the same. He’s still the man Hermann loves. “I know,” Hermann sighs. He kisses the top of Newton’s head. He doesn’t think he’ll ever quite be able to forgive Newton for all those years, but he’s certainly willing to start something new.

“Forget about the fuel?” Newton says.

Hermann really could hurt himself with ill-advised experiments with kaiju blood. (Besides: Newton’s concern is proof Newton still cares about his well-being.) “Alright, Newton,” Hermann says, unable to help his smile, and Newton steals another little kiss.

“Stay the night,” Newton insists once more. “I’ll cook breakfast.”

Newton’s bed is comfortable. Newton is even more comfortable. Hermann nods.

It’s good to have Newton back.