#incomprehensible😉

[dio-the-thot-exterminator]

It begins. You “become”. Till all are one. Incomprehensible, existing in the comic coda.

[hirazuki]

Maedhros and Mairon + 49

…out of necessity | Maedhros & Mairon

•────────────────────⋅☾ ☽⋅────────────────────•

Aman, somewhere in the north. Fourth Age.

"And you are absolutely certain I cannot persuade you to come?" Maedhros asks, only half in jest, over the rim of his near-depleted glass.

Mairon tucks away the warm bloom of pleasure he feels at the Elf's clear approval of the vintage -- made from fruit harvested just over the hill; he has been experimenting, in the hope of finally discovering a drink to his own liking -- and casts a withering glare at him instead, of the kind that once flayed servants and kings alike and stayed dragons in their tracks.

His visitor, true to form, remains entirely unaffected.

The Maia clicks his tongue and runs a subtly-clawed hand through a strand of hair that has fallen over his eyes, examining its ends before flicking it back.

"No, thank you," he declines, feigned sweetness and a hint of fang slipping in, in reminiscence of bygone days. "I have no desire to mire myself in the politics of Valinor and Tirion and Tol Eressëa and whatever new settlement the latest group of reembodied discontents has elected to erect."

Maedhros chuckles into his glass, with sympathy and, likely, no small amount of envy -- he does not possess the luxury of choice in this matter -- before he drains it.

To say receiving him had been a surprise -- wine-dark elegance walking down the garden path to his doorstep, his Fëanorian finery a far cry from the remembered bronze and battered steel; hair, once and forever, a bloodstain in the sun -- would be to say the Grinding Ice was cold.

Awkwardness and cautious circling had gradually given way to unspun talk of things both great and small, held over sectioned wooden plates and light-colored tea in patterned cups; Mairon eagerly lapping up every scrap of information offered, starving mind ever at odds with his self-imposed isolation in the wilderness of Aman's empty north. He'd come here in pursuit of peace -- to remove himself from the noise and the tangle, the unbearableness of eternity's everyday; and the price for soothing his spirit was boredom. There was a line between too much quiet and not enough, and it was as gossamer stretched between the trees.

Neither had the irony been lost on him: he who, once, had stood on sheer precipices, feeding news of the world below to hungry ears upon its peaks. An unthinkable case of turned tables.

The paltry heat of the day -- a ghost of the burning summers across the sea -- had eventually faded into bland evening, with a suggestion of night-flowers in the air too timid to be truly called a scent. They had barely noticed, until firelight hair started shining brighter against the window panes.

Mairon has enjoyed this far more than he would have anticipated; certainly more than he will ever admit. He supposes he should not be surprised at it -- he has been alone since coming here, after all, and Maedhros has always proved to be intriguing, intelligent company, even in throes of imprisonment; even in torture.

Fëanor's eldest stands, apology on his lips. "I should be returning; it is some way to Formenos, and there are those among my family with a predilection for hasty conclusions; regardless of however little actual information they possess." His face does something complicated, that echoes the tightness the Maia feels in his chest. "I did not think I would stay so late."

Mairon pauses, halfway to standing himself. "You did not tell anyone where you were going?"

"Should I have?"

The former Lieutenant of Angband -- Gorthaur; Sauron; the Second Dark Lord and erstwhile Lord of Mordor -- stares at him, blankly.

Maedhros laughs, and it is the same mirthless, rueful laugh he remembers from a different land under a different sky, if somewhat filed down around the edges by time spent in silver vapors and vast caverns that trail below the seas.

"And what designs do you have on me, here in Aman?" the Elf asks him, with a manner that is heedless of the eggshells others have strewn all about him since his return to the West, and it feels like the fire coursing through his veins when he runs after being confined for too long. "What have you ever done towards me, in person, other than argue yourself hoarse to have me unhung?"

Oh. He'd noticed. His one-time prisoner had noticed, somehow, through the haze of blood and pain and stinging northern winds. Mairon is not certain how he feels about that.

"I dislike waste," is the response he settles on; it is not a lie. "And you forget too easily."

"I have not forgotten anything," Maedhros assures him, and holds up his left hand to look at the yawning black that graces its reincarnated palm. "I simply think I am no longer in a position to cast stones."

Mairon looks at it, too.

He thinks of Celebrimbor, of how he has heard that his shirts are always sleeved to the wrist and he avoids eating with knives, and of Maeglin, and how he shirks high places, and of the blistered skin still stamped around his own throat, a collar fashioned of previous flesh and soul-carved fear that hounds him in every form.

Is it the same for a Vala? he wonders, suddenly; does Melkor also wear the wounds of an old life? He has not seen him, yet, though Nienna has reached out.

"I have not been for a long time." Maedhros' voice is a half-whisper, but it draws him out from where he has fallen into his own head, before he can sink in deeper to drown in the sirenic call of afterthoughts long dead.

He watches him take out a glove from a pocket in his cloak and, using his teeth, pull it over his hand.

"You keep it hidden?"

The question is intrusive, insensitive, and wholly involuntary -- Maedhros has not shown any indication that the burn of the Silmaril bothers him, and the care with which he covers it now strikes the Maia with the suddenness of hammer upon anvil.

"I grew tired of both pity and censure," comes the answer -- raw in honesty and distressingly intimate, it devastates like Song.

And yet, Fëanor's firstborn leaves his right wrist bare for all to see. Perhaps it is because the injury is older, Mairon thinks; or, perhaps, it is that some scars are more private than others.

He catches Maedhros smiling at him, and at the hand he did not realize he has raised to cradle his own neck.

The Elf says nothing, and turns to make his way to the front door.

Mairon follows; it is only proper to walk him out.

He is about to bid him goodnight on the threshold, in the fashion of old Beleriand, when Maedhros leans forward and places a quick touch of his lips on him, once on each cheek.

Mairon stills, for the span between seconds, before flinching back. "What are you doing?"

"Satisfying the demands of Noldorin etiquette," Maedhros replies, brow slightly creasing under the plain band of burnished copper that goes around his head. "I should have thought you familiar with all our customs."

Mairon retreats within his mind and quickly flips through the tome of his life labeled 'Eregion' -- still within easy reach, though riddled with dust and disuse.

There is nothing there.

Curious; but, it is possible the Elves of Ost-in-Edhil -- Tyelpë, in particular -- had kept more of a distance from him than he'd been led to believe. Despite the long winters and the late nights and the celebrations, there had always been a boundary between Elf and Maia: too insubstantial to ever be commented on, just solid enough to be vexing. That, or they had left some traditions behind when they had crossed over the mountains, alongside everyone else, in the wake of rising water and incalculable loss.

None of that is pertinent, however, at the moment. What matters is his old counterpart standing before him, the lingering trace of foreign warmth on his face, and his ever-burning need to know.

"And what does it signify?"

"It means," Maedhros begins, speaking words that Mairon could not have imagined existed on the other side of howling cliffs and deep fire and wretched hallowed light, "that it is good to see you again."

[pedroshotwifey]

*looks around and slides money on the table* 💵

Frankie Morales and number 10

I apologize to Frankie because he’s a sweet polite broad bean who’s respectful and always asks. I…would like him not to. 👀

Reader: plus size female (because I’m in full self-indulgent delulu mode)

Also I’m kinda not sorry because side why else would you have the title of the p**** eating king Morales? Huh? Huh? 😵 Sir. 👀

Anyway. I’m gonna stop rambling now. Thank you. 🥰

*Snatches money and stuffs it into pocket*

Yeah, alright. I got the goods. (I fucking love this.)

Hope you enjoy your face sitting with the p**** eating king! 😉

Rating: Explicit

W/C: 1.2k

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!plus size!reader

A Real Man

“What the fuck do you mean you’ve never sat on someone’s face before?” 

You wince at the words coming out of Frankie’s mouth. Was it really that big of a deal? 

The two of you are sitting in bed, facing the TV that Frankie just paused. Well, it’s not like the two of you were really watching it anyway. You’d started talking halfway through the movie, and you’re not really sure how you got to this point in the conversation, but here you are.

“I-I don’t know. I just…haven’t.” You avoid his gaze as your cheeks heat, unsure of why you feel so ashamed to have admitted that. Maybe it was more of a common thing than you had thought. 

“But you’ve been in relationships before?” Frankie says it like a question, but he knows that you have. 

“Well, yeah, but. I don’t know, we just didn’t do it!” You don’t know why you’re getting frustrated with this. 

Frankie huffs a laugh and shakes his head. 

“What kind of an idiot wouldn’t offer themselves up to a goddess like you?” 

“You haven’t!” you point out. It’s a bit unfair of you since the two of you have only been officially dating for a couple of weeks and haven’t done too much sexual exploration yet. You’ve known him for much longer though, having grown up with him, and you’re not going to deny hearing…rumors of his skills. 

He gives you a pointed look, knowing that you know that’s an unfair accusation. You groan and put your hands over your face.

“My last boyfriend offered, but he seemed like he didn’t really want to. So I told him I would suffocate him, and he agreed with me.” It’s muffled through your hands, and the last part is near incomprehensible with how quietly you say it. 

“He what?” Frankie sits up a bit, and you peek at him through your fingers. “Honey, I hate to tell you, but that boy was a fucking idiot.” 

You sigh and shake your head. Like you didn’t know that already. 

“Take your clothes off.” 

Your hands fall from your face as you jolt up. 

“What? No!” 

“Yes. You’re going to sit on my face so I can show you what it’s like to be with a real man.” 

“Frankie, no, I–” 

“Clothes. Off. Now.” 

You gulp at the way his eyes darken and his voice deepens. Deciding it’s better just to listen to what he says, you slide down off the bed and start to tug off your clothes with shaky hands. You glance at Frankie as you push your pants down, watching the way he hungrily licks his bottom lip as you unveil more and more skin. 

You stop once you’re down to your bra and panties, another protest on the tip of your tongue. But Frankie’s quick, and he knows your antics. 

“Keep going. I don’t want to hear it.” 

You purse your lips but undo your bra all the same, tossing it to the side and revealing your breasts to your boyfriend. You can feel the wetness between your legs as you peel your panties off, making your face flush again. 

“C’mere.” 

It’s not a request, and your body responds to it before you can think about it. You stop in front of him, his hands coming to settle on your plush hips. His eyes drag up the length of you, slowing as they pass your heavy breasts. 

“Fucking gorgeos, amor.” 

He starts to pull you back onto the bed with him, leading you to climb over him as he lays down. You stop at his waist, feeling the way his bulge presses up against the fabric of his sweats. 

“C’mon, baby. All the way up.” 

You swallow but follow his instruction, trying and failing to avoid his lust fueled gaze. You stop again right at his chest, and he suddenly wraps his arms around your thick thighs to pull you to his face, making you fall over him and plant your hands on the bed above his head. 

“Frankie, be careful!” you scold, sitting back up on your knees. You look down at him, seeing his pupils completely blown. 

“Take a seat hermosa,” he instructs, completely ignoring your outburst. 

You start to lower yourself down, hovering just over his mouth. You’re about to ask him one more time if he’s sure, and then he pulls you all the way down, making you yelp as your pussy comes into contact with his unrelenting mouth. 

He immediately gets to work on licking stripes up and down your cunt, and you scream out his name. He’s eaten you before while you were on your back, but holy fuck. It didn’t feel like this. 

He groans into you as he slips his tongue inside your weeping hole, licking up all that he can. Your hand threads through his curls as your hips jolt involuntarily at the feeling. Your head is already starting to go blank as a pressure builds in your abdomen. 

His tongue fucks in and out of you as he simultaneously slurps up your juices. You moan obscenely, tugging on his hair as you ride his face. He whimpers at the pull, and you already know his hips are bucking up into nothing. 

He’s fucking feral, licking and fucking and groaning and whimpering. After a moment, he pulls his tongue back and shifts to take your clit between his full lips, sucking harshly. Your legs begin to tremble as your orgasm gets closer, and Frankie holds you even closer, his fingers leaving indents on your thighs as he squeezes your flesh. His tongue flicks over the swollen bud, and you’re done for. 

“Oh, fuck, Frankie!” you cry out as you come on him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You’re vaguely aware of the way you’re clenching his hair in a way that has got to be painful, but you don’t have enough control to release your grip. 

He keeps moving through your orgasm, letting go of your clit to trail back to your hole, drinking everything up as he moans. Your body tenses and shakes violently as you focus solely on the pleasure of it. 

You’re panting as you come down, your body leaning back over his, weak from the force of the orgasm he just gave you. You feel his grip loosen on your thighs, and you take the opportunity to roll off of him and lay down on your back beside him. 

You’re both covered in a thin sheen of sweat, breathing heavy as you look at eachother. You trade a shaky laugh, completely blissed out from whatever the fuck that was. 

“Thank you baby,” you say, unsure if you can find the words to explain to him how mind-blowing that was. 

“Shit, thank you,” Frankie responds. 

“It wasn’t too much then?” you ask, doubt creeping back into your mind despite what just transpired. 

“It was fucking perfect baby. I can prove how much I liked it if you really need.” He sounds almost bashful at this admission, and you’re confused for a second before you look down and see the dark stain in his pants. 

You laugh at him, almost impressed that he managed to come untouched. 

“No, I believe you.”

*****

Here’s the link to the prompt list if anyone else would like to request 🫶

[alicerosejensen]

Please, since you are responding to requests now, then you may have a little specific text or headlines about how Leon ID, RE4, RE6, Vendetta (any one you like better) copes with the fact that the reader constantly abandons him for the fictional ideal of another man, but in the end always she returns to him, and Leon just loves her so much that he can't refuse her.

If it's too much for you, but please forgive and forget.

No it's fine) I fucking loved the idea. If the text comes out good enough, then maybe I'll even write the second part if someone likes it 😉

Who is she?

Warning: Reader asshole (I apologize); Fem.reader; cheating; Leon constantly forgives; unhealthy relationships; There is a barely noticeable mention of the age difference; Any version of Leon

Synopsis: Leon is tired of forgiving you over and over again, knowing that you always run away from him to another man whom you consider your prince, but when you are disappointed… maybe he should think about himself?

note: I don't think Leon could forgive cheating at all, and even if he did, it would only be once, but just let's dream a little. This man has so much shit that in some of the alternate universes we can imagine that he can forgive the reader.

English is far from my native language, so I apologize for all the errors.

First of all, he was also tired of impermanence. Glass after glass and the beloved princess who is constantly looking for a charming prince again in his head becomes an innocent maiden with soft skin and not that ruinous mermaid who somehow constantly pulls him into her nets. Fingers hold a glass of whiskey in his hands and Leon sees his own reflection in the amber liquid. At the time, you could really be the same sea woman from the legends who drags sailors to the bottom of the oceans, but the trouble is that Leon is at the bottom of the bottle every time you think you have found an incomprehensible ideal in which you will definitely not be disappointed anymore.

Maybe it was your inexperience and young age? Leon remembers how he met you, and he didn't need much. Maybe one or two nights without commitment, without love, because in her heart lived a mysterious woman in red, who sometimes left paper airplanes with traces of lipstick after rare nights.

But you…

For some reason, you have sunk deep into his blood, and Leon himself could not let you go. Gentle touches, stroking your hair in a dream, it was as if he had returned to the skin of Leon's rookie with puppy eyes full of devotion in his gaze. When he nuzzled your neck, touching the skin with his lips, hugging you around the waist so tightly, but painlessly.

It wasn't even about sex, but rather about some kind of warmth and comfort that enveloped like a light veil. Passion was, however, Leon quickly left it in the background, making love to you his priority. Not just a physical attraction, but something more sublime. Just to lie together like this while you're texting someone on your phone, leaving him blissfully unaware that a replacement has been found for him.

"After all, you said yourself that you don't need love," you told him the first time he saw this fucking correspondence in one of the last chats when you were taking a shower. "And I want to be loved"

Then you stood in front of him in a towel with wet hair, while he clutched your phone in his hand, trying to suppress the desire to smash it on the floor. Last night you told him that you were fine with him, and later corresponded with another guy, telling him the same thing. Anger from resentment completely filled his soul. But you were right… He immediately made it clear that he didn't need a serious relationship, but didn't you see all his sincere affection afterwards? He gave you everything you wanted and treated you with such awe, as if he had fragile porcelain in front of him that needed to be taken care of.

And he let you go reluctantly, because it didn't occur to him that you needed those three simple words "I love you", which he didn't think of uttering even in a fit of passion.

The only thing Leon found solace in was alcohol and work that took away all moral resources. But returning to an empty apartment, he wanted more than anything in the world to see you, sleep and bask in the same bed or take you somewhere far away from the noisy city for a week to relax with him. However, his princess was with her Prince charming, which he unfortunately was not. Apparently Leon was some kind of antagonist of this story or just a minor character who is remembered when the plot demands it, because the princess soon became disillusioned with the prince who did not justify all her ideals.

And so history repeats itself… The mermaid swims out of the depths of the sea again to drag him to the bottom with her… It's a funny comparison considering that Leon himself lets you drag him to this very bottom. He forgave… It wiped away your tears, kissing your cheeks flushed from crying and pressed your body to his chest, holding so tightly as if you could fall.

You're so young. So inexperienced and probably a little touchy, so you ran away from him to some asshole who didn't appreciate you as the only flower in the whole wide world. Forgiving you was so easy.

You returned to him that was the main thing after which Leon was going to take care of you to the fullest, not intending to give you to anyone anymore. The relationship was the healing of his traumas. Leon did not even consider what happened between you cheating. There was just a misunderstanding, but now he was going to build trust with you. So as you lay on the crumpled sheets, his lips gently kissed your back. He liked the idea that he was no longer alone. That he doesn't need to live the worst moments of his life alone.

Therefore, returning home always made him look like a dog that was eager to see his beloved person to whom he was attached, and if Leon had a tail, he would definitely wag it so that he could demolish half the apartment.

"Why was it necessary to seek love from other men?"

Leon never considered himself the best partner in the world. Okay, maybe he really doesn't have enough free time to spend with you, but that never means he enjoyed being away from you! Gifts were just a way to make amends with you for his absence, but then he always tried to make up for lost time by inviting you to places ranging from expensive restaurants to a pleasant week-long romantic cruise.

But now, sitting at the table in his apartment and looking into your seemingly sincere tears with pleas for forgiveness, Leon remembers how you left him for the second time.

"What did you promise me?" His voice is ringing in your head, while a cold reaction, along with an indifferent smirk, leaves no chance.Finally, he raised his icy eyes to you, forcing you to remember all your false promises of loyalty to him. "How many times have you promised me that you love me, huh?

Do you remember this number yourself? because Leon is already tired of counting and forgiving.

Silence freezes between the two and only the sound of the heels of your beautiful expensive boots that he gave you not so long ago is heard. You walked up to him and a trail of your perfume enveloped his nose as your fingers stroked the back of his hand.

It is difficult to resist your feminine charms. Initially, Leon considered you the embodiment of a dream that he could reach. As a result, your game of "Love" turned out to be even worse than when Ada played with him. At least she was as honest with him as her secrecy allowed, and you...

"That the last suitor did not live up to expectations again?" sarcastically remarks Leon overturning the glass into himself, drinking the contents completely. "And my beloved princess is running back to the dragon's lair to start waiting for another stupid cute boy who, in her imaginary dreams, will be the one?" Alcohol does not dull the heartache that you brought him with your cheating.

"I'm sorry..." you whisper pathetically, gently grabbing his forearm causing him to let out a low chuckle "Please..."

"What is the number of times? The fifth?" The hand reaches for the bottle again.

Leon is tired of forgiving. Tired of listening to your vows of love and then finding texts with other guys and finding out that you go on dates while he risks his life on a mission.

However, Leon could not himself, he still loved you, but he could no longer forgive these endless antics. The second time, you ran away yourself, telling him that you had found the love of your life, leaving him completely discouraged and confused. That's just this "love" lived for only 2 months, and you couldn't take it anymore, running away from your new lover back to him. Crying, drunkenly clinging to him, and no matter how he was offended by your mean act, Leon's nobility did not allow him to leave you in trouble... Of course, he loved, of course, he wanted you to be there, so when you sobered up and looked at him with such sweet eyes full of tears and sincere remorse for the mistake you made, Leon didn't have the strength to give up on you.

In order for him to forgive, it was only necessary to snuggle up to his back, hug his stomach, sniff and say that you love him very much. You just made a mistake.

Exactly the same scenario was repeated for the third and fourth time, with the only difference being that Leon himself saw a chat with guys on your phone. The last time, he even waited out of interest to see if you would tell him about your subject sighing or if he would have to catch you red-handed again. Fuck, even Ada didn't play on his emotions like that. In the end, Leon decided that he had had enough.

But here you two are again. An endless cycle of cheating and forgiveness.

Part of Leon knew he shouldn't give in to you, but it was so hard to say no. It is already impossible to atone for such an act, and Leon rightly does not want to listen to sweet speeches again, trusting them once again so that in a couple of months he will start licking the wounds from your separation from him again.

"I made a mistake. Again," you said softly, and Leon even ignored you for a while, thinking about something of his own.

"A mistake?" Leon looked at you in disbelief. "It was a mistake the first time. Then I humbled myself and forgave you the second time, but the third, fourth and fifth? Are you serious?!"

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry."

Oh, those sweet cheeks of yours and tearful eyes that could destroy any defense of his broken heart. You always speak so sincerely that Leon does not understand if you are a good actress or if some kind of chemical chain is really going on in your head, because of which you are constantly looking for love on the side. It's always not enough for you, but for some reason you sleep with him, eat, live, whisper beautiful words and even make ill-conceived plans for children. Casually and more in jest than seriously, but these conversations were!

The problem is that he loves you, but your feelings for him are like a cigarette. And only ashes remain of them. With each new attempt, he wanted to believe that it would be just you and him, but there was always someone else. And Leon just doesn't know where to put himself. Clumsy in the relationship, he didn't even notice or didn't want to notice your manipulations, but looking into your eyes, he wants to forgive you again and again, giving another attempt to start over.

But there is a limit to everything.

"Leon…" a gentle, even voice interrupts the silence. He could dream about you for the rest of his days, thinking that somewhere in your heart there is still a real love for him. Therefore, when he looks up at you again, he feels only bitterness and sadness.

But what can you know about his sorrows? And yet Leon is not surprised by your presence here. You say you missed him, but this time he wasn't going to believe it.

"What do you want this time?"

"You" you answer without the slightest delay, watching as he drinks another dose of alcohol. "Only you. I know I hurt you, but now everything will be different!"

Finally, a sarcastic grin touches his lips. This makes you feel uncomfortable and your stomach seems to curl up inside, telling you that he is so tired of these toxic relationships that he no longer wants to get involved with anyone.

"Are you serious?!" Leon laughs, twirling the glass in his hands. "Where did that prince go? Believe it or not, I'm not even interested in what happened to you this time because you came running to me again to cry and ask for forgiveness. I've had enough of this shit. I'm done"

He already said this last time, but now you bite the inside of your cheek, taking an empty glass from his hands, pushing your fingers into his palm, hoping that tactile contact will give you the advantage to bring everything back and correct all mistakes.

Because of this, Leon head and heart are in conflict again. The desire to be with the woman he loved unrestrainedly was even stronger than Ada was attracted to, but his mind told him that it would be stupid. Even when you knelt down next to him.

"Please believe me. I understand how much pain I brought you, but I realized a lot. I don't need anyone else give me a chance to fix everything!"

"I really want to believe you. If only I could," he said before kissing your palm in his hand. "Not after all your games"

"No more games," you honestly admitted, trying to convince him.

As if it were true. He does not want to check your phone for the presence of questionable correspondence, looking through the texts of forwarded messages with lovers. He was annoyed by the thought of it, but he really still loved you. Besides, Leon didn't want you to get away with it anymore.

"All those meetings… they didn't really mean anything to me. But I only realized it now."

"You already swore to me in love, swore that those men meant nothing to you, but I always caught you and we went back to where we started. If it didn't mean anything to you, why were you always looking for love on the side? Looking for it from other men when I tried to give you everything you wanted?!" Leon lowered his gaze, looking at you with bloodshot tears. "I don't want to take it anymore" He said before grabbing his glass and taking another shot of whiskey.

"This…it was all such a huge mistake of mine. Foolishness."

"Foolishness?" He grinned and his beautiful blue eyes darkened with anger, "Maybe you just don't know how to be faithful? I forgave the first time because we had a condition that we only sleep, but when it turned into a relationship… I had the strength to accept you for the second, third fucking fourth time, but if you think I'm blind and stupid, then you're very wrong. Look for your ideal further since you haven't seen my kind attitude towards you under your nose!"

Alcohol flows through his veins causing the pain he felt to subside a little. His voice broke and Leon bit his lip, not wanting to say more, but here you are clinging to his back with your arms wrapped in a tight ring of hugs endlessly begging for stupid forgiveness.

"Why couldn't you just love me?"

"I love." Your voice almost turned into a plea when you saw that he was giving up. He let those hugs envelop him, but it didn't get any better. "I will never again… I will never betray you. Please believe me."

He would like to… however, he knows that these words are likely to be followed by another knife in the back. Your hands are too warm and it reminds Leon of those happy moments when he did not remember about your love affairs. About those moments when you were just together.

But then Leon stands up to his full height and you literally rush to him in the hope of that very forgiveness. Looks at him with puppy eyes, forcing him to press his cheek to your crown, feeling his beloved and such a native smell. And it was no less pleasant to respond to your kisses. Leon was just basking with you for a while, maybe because of a drunken fog in his head. The words of love were so tender, sweet and poured like honey into the ears, actually being poison. He could even spend the night with you in this state, but there wasn't that much alcohol in his blood.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." you grab his face by stroking his cheek with your thumb and for some reason he touches your nose with his nose, smiling sweetly. "give me another chance. The last one."

Leon presses against your forehead, pulling your hands away from him, and grabs your face. Not violent, no. But at the bottom of the sapphire eyes you see darkness. One move of his, and the thin neck will clearly break under the influence of his power.

Leon hates that feeling. He hates that you know what power you have over his feelings and heart. You need a couple of affectionate words, a puppy look and gentle hugs so that he digs into your lips with a rough kiss, to which you will respond

"It was the last chance." He said that when he pulled away from your lips, part of him knew that he was making another mistake "Damn it, you better live better according to every word you say. Because if I forgive you, I won't go through this rubbish anymore. Do you understand?"

Leon closed his eyes and exhaled, although he realized only at that moment that he was holding his breath. It was nice to feel your soft lips, even in a moment overshadowed by a broken heart.

"I love you," he whispered, hoping that this time it wasn't simple words that could easily turn out to be unrequited.

[owl-with-a-pen]

okay but another angsty thing re: Brainy and sleeping, what if he wakes up from a nap or something in the Tower soon after the season 5 finale and thinks he's still in that room with the radiation poisoning him (like maybe he has a nightmare about that), so someone has to calm him down and bring him back to reality

If the 3,000+ word count wasn't a dead giveaway, I had some fun with this one 😉

If Nia was certain of anything, it was that Brainy was going to crash real soon. He’d been looking pale ever since they’d returned from the Fortress, and there was no way in hell she could ignore the feverish heat that had prickled from his skin while her face had been buried so snugly against his throat. He hadn’t said anything then, but when they’d eventually picked themselves up from the lab’s floor, Brainy had been ready to drop long before they made it to the elevator. Without Nia's guiding hand, he never would have made it to the loft in one piece.

By the time they were hunkered down on a sofa in the Tower’s living nook, tablet balanced precariously between them, one of J’onn’s blankets folded over their knees, Brainy been close to passing out entirely. The only thing that stopped him was his relentless focus on the task at hand.

Every now and then, Nia caught his eyes as they worked a path across the data she’d been able to draw up from their borrowed intel downloaded from the Fortress’s supercomputer. It wasn’t much, but between the Tower, Legion and Kryptonian archive, they had a halfway decent snapshot of what the Phantom Zone might entail.

Finding Kara, though? That was the tricky part.

Nia’s heart hurt every time she thought about it – of Kara lost and alone in that place. She’d once described it to her as worse than hell. A terrifying purgatory where nightmares held a tangible presence.

No one had gone home that night. Nia lost track of Alex some point past midnight when Lena appeared with enough Big Belly Burger to feed a small army. Her best guess was that she’d retreated downstairs in the commotion to get first dibs on J’onn’s intergalactic coffee machine. They could’ve all used the kick right about now, and any other night Nia would’ve been shouldering her way to the front of the line.  

But coffee wasn’t going to cut it today. Besides, shoulder-to-shoulder with Brainy was exactly where she needed to stay. Maybe he hadn’t been eager to share anything out loud, but when he’d refused to eat any of Lena’s generous offerings, Nia had known what was up.

The nanites were starting to hit back. Hard.

She could survive without the caffeine, she rationalised. Maybe it was a good thing. She’d been doing pretty much anything to deny sleep for the last few months, hating herself whenever she slipped into a dream with Brainy as the centrepiece, goading her even in the deepest corners of her subconscious. She’d spent so long convincing herself that it was all in her head, that it was her grief and guilt that had conjured him up as her eternal tormenter. Knowing the truth of it still stung, an ache that went bone-deep, but that pain had started to ease the moment she’d locked her pinkie with his.

She wasn’t sure how easy she’d sleep now, but she knew that she couldn’t ignore the tug of the dream realm any longer. It was the only place she could figure any of this out, no matter how uncertain she felt. Besides, she wasn’t alone this time. She had Brainy back on her team, his promise to her as unbreakable as steel, and knowing that made everything feel just a little lighter.  

Nia wasn’t surprised when the words on the tablet began to blur into an incomprehensible muddle, the lull of her unconscious mind far too pressing of a force to refuse. Soon, she was lost to that darkness, pulled dizzyingly fast towards the threads of a dream already spun partway together.

Sometimes, her dreams came to her in quick successive flashes - other times they settled into specific locations, familiar or alien alike.

The room she awoke to was hazy, shimmering with rippling heat that rose in waves from the surface of the ground, enough that she couldn’t see a thing inside it. There was light, though, a deep orange spectacle that shone from somewhere close to the floor.

Before she could even try to understand where she was, pain like nothing she’d ever experienced erupted across her skin. It didn’t have a source, rather it radiated from all-round. It was a tangible pressure, raw and harsh, a laser point fixed solely on her that bypassed clothes and flesh alike, blistering straight to blood and bone. Her limbs felt like lead wherever it penetrated, targeting her joints until she folded with a swallowed scream to the floor. Nia’s chest held stiff, refusing to draw in the air she suddenly, desperately needed.

Because every breath burned - worse than the last - as though her lungs were lacerating inside her ribs. She gritted her teeth like she was biting down on leather, the sting of her tears sizzling to vapour before they even had a chance to fall.

What was this place her mind screamed, that too sounding warped and winded to her ears. Her dreams had certainly terrified her before, but they’d never hurt her like this. Like they could kill.

Nia gasped, gripping for her throat when the pressure of the air thickened inside her mouth, scalding her tongue. She could nearly taste it, bitter like battery acid, sharp like blood. Something about that taste was familiar to her, like when she’d overexerted her powers or…

No… there was something else. Because she had felt this before. Just for a second. Just before…

Before she’d been thrown from Leviathan’s ship.

Leviathan.

That didn’t make sense. If that was what her dream was trying to tell her, it’d missed the mark by a mile. The ship was gone – Leviathan along with it. No amount of pain could convince her otherwise. And if that was true, then there was nothing left of this dream that could hold a connection to the future.

How could her dream prophesise something that no longer existed?

Just as Nia had forced another breath through her bubbling lungs, bracing herself for the pain that would follow, she heard something. A sound that cut through the fog in her mind, that made everything suddenly so clear.

A soft, barely audible whimper from across the room.

Nia curled her hands into fists, jerking against the molten metal that greeted her knuckles, and looked up. Beyond the stifling power of Leviathan’s radiation, she could see the shape of a person pressed up against the console of the furthest edge of the room. She blinked against the stinging in her eyes, realising that the orange light she’d seen before had been coming from there. Now, that glow sharpened into something starker, closer matching the pale hair it illuminated – pasted against the jawline of a very familiar green face.

Nia’s eyes widened in shock, gasping his name.

Brainy sat with his knees drawn towards his chest, his body curved protectively around an object cradled closely to his centre. Even while she watched, Nia could see the spasmodic convulses of his chest as he tried to draw in breath, quickly followed by a barely muted cry of pain when the radiation crept in instead; his teeth an off-white smear fixed into permanent misery.

Nia’s heart twisted hard enough to outweigh her own pain. Because… it wasn’t her pain. It never had been. She’d never been inside the ship long enough to feel its true effect. None of them had.

None except…

Brainy. Of course this was Brainy’s dream. She wasn’t inside a vision at all. In her exhausted confusion, she must have slipped right into Brainy’s mind.

It was rare – rarer than rare, actually. But sometimes it could happen. If she and Brainy were tired enough, if they hadn’t been thinking, or even if they were thinking too much, then…

It hadn’t happened in so long, though. It couldn’t. They would have needed to share each other’s space, each other’s bed…

Now a new pain fluttered in her heart, an ache she thought she’d begun to remedy. But it had become such an old pain now, something that had fused itself to her after months of grief and frustration and anger.

In a way, this place was that and more. She’d never seen Brainy’s mind palace after he’d taken off the inhibitors, never experienced his dreams with his true self restored. And despite the heaviness of this place, the colours here were more vibrant, every light source so bright they could have been blinding. There was a sound beyond the buzz of the radiation, one that thrummed at the base of Nia's skull like old whispers, slipping in and out of audibility between every laboured pant of Brainy’s chest.

He looked like he had in the vision Nia had seen not a few hours earlier – when he’d collapsed to the ground after absorbing all that targeted radiation.

Ten minutes had already been too much for him, and those ten had turned into fifteen, twenty—it had taken Nia far too long to make it down there. And then, even after she’d found him, she hadn’t been quick enough, hadn’t had the power or natural immunity to drag him to safety.

It could have killed him. It should have. Nia’s dreams had been right to make her feel that way. This was to as near-death as she could have experienced without being in Brainy’s place.

And, for whatever reason, Brainy’ subconscious had decided to drag him right back here.

Now she was beginning to understand the rules of this dream, Nia realised that the radiation didn’t hold the same power over her. With a deep breath, she drew her shoulders together, pushing herself back onto her haunches. The radiation still barrelled at her, but now it held the potency of a soft breeze, nothing she couldn’t push past.

It wasn’t her pain, she reminded herself. And the more she thought that, the easier it became to ignore it. Soon she was back on her feet, crossing the room as easily as Kara or J’onn had made it look when they’d crashed inside.  

Nia didn’t stop walking until she was crouched at Brainy’s side. His chest was rising and falling in short, breathless exhales, too weak to draw in the air he needed. His head was tipped skyward, lips parted into a strained grimace.

At first, she wondered if this was some sort of punishment he'd conjured himself, a side-effect from all the guilt he’d been harbouring over the last few months.

That was until she realised what it was that he was holding so tightly in his arms, and how quickly he flinched away from her when she tried to reach for it herself.

“N-no,” Brainy whined, a panicked sound. He shook his head vehemently, curling even further into himself, obscuring the bottle from sight. The yellow hue it gave off was unmistakable, painting his face a sickly shade. His expression contorted again when more pain rolled through him, trails of salt staining his cheeks. “I-I can’t let go, I-I can’t let him win.”

“Brainy, it’s okay,” Nia said as gently as she could manage, sidling in closer to him. She kept her hands a practiced mark from the bottle, hovering steadfast. “You’re dreaming, okay? But I can help. Take my hand.”

Brainy whimpered, a strangled sound catching in his throat as fresh tears flooded his blood-stained eyes. “N-no,” he croaked. “Lex’ll – I can’t – or-or Kara will—”

Nia’s heart broke for him. This wasn’t about punishment; in his delirious state of mind, Brainy must have brought himself back to the moment just before Lex had stolen the bottle from him.

No matter what she’d told him back in the waking world, it hadn’t been enough to relieve him of his guilt. Not in the way he needed. But she knew this wasn’t going to help him, either.  The whispers in the air were as thick as the radiation shield itself, droning from every corner, warping into nothing but a mechanised garble.

He wasn’t going to go willingly, she knew that, and Nia was too afraid that taking him by force might make things worse.

Looked like she’d have to do things the old-fashioned way.

“I’ll see you on the other side, Wildcat,” Nia murmured, closing her eyes, losing sight of the prison Brainy had designed for himself as quickly as she’d entered.

Nia only felt a drifting impression of Brainy’s consciousness before she was back in the waking world. When she blinked her eyes open, she was inside the Tower again, with the real Brainy pressed tightly to her side.

His golden hair was slick to his forehead with sweat, his eyes skirting uncertainly behind closed lids as he muttered fretfully in his sleep. Some of the words were English, others held the mechanised characteristics of fluent Coluan. There was another language, too, one that overlapped the others, far separate from anything she’d heard him speak before.

She recognised it though, the ancient consonants that rolled from his tongue even while he was under such duress. It was the same language he’d spoken with Rama Khan. The language of the gods.

He was still bartering with Leviathan somewhere deep down, trying in his own way to fix his mistakes. But his pleas fell on deaf ears. All ears, but hers.

Suddenly, Brainy whimpered again, a sob catching him so hard that Nia worried he’d choke. He clawed at her front with weak fingers, lashes fluttering beneath layers of delirium.

She knew she had to wake him, but it was still a delicate procedure even outside of the dream realm. Carefully, Nia wound her arm around Brainy’s back, clutching the fibres of his suit, securing him against her side as she ran her free hand over his chest. Brainy didn’t fight her, instead he buried his nose into her throat, his clammy skin cold and fervid at the same time. She could feel the sting of his life projectors even from a distance, prickling across her gloves as she searched for his frequency, bringing it into step with her own.

Usually, once she’d found a target, that’d be her cue to drag them into a sleep they’d have a hell of a time coming back from. Now, she sought that power in reverse, pulling back on her usual gift so that she could dispel a dream sequence rather than enforce it. Blue energy swirled from Nia’s fingertips, coalescing with the white of Brainy’s central projector, knocking on the fragile door of his unconscious mind.

When that door creaked open, she let her energy soar, illuminating all that had been buried so that it might rise to the surface unimpeded.

She felt the tug of his consciousness before he woke, and when Brainy shot forward in the confusion that followed, Nia was there to steady him, pressing her hand reassuringly into his centre, trying to draw in on the pleasant fog that often accompanied a nap post-waking.

But peace like that couldn’t be manufactured.  

“N-n-no—” Brainy gasped, choking hard enough that it induced a coughing fit so violent he nearly retched from the strain.

Nia held him steady, worried that he was about to make himself sick. She rubbed his back, soothing him with breathless reassurances while simultaneously mapping out the closest trash can in case she needed to make an emergency dive for it.

“It’s okay,” she said, a gentle murmur in his ear. “It was just a nightmare, Brainy. You’re safe.”

But even as she said it, she couldn’t be sure that it was true. The sweat on Brainy’s brow wasn’t just a result of his nightmare. As Nia rocked in time with him, she could feel his body convulse against her with shudders that he was powerless to quell. He was burning up, his eyes glazed and fever stricken.

He was sick. Sicker than she’d ever seen him, and there was nothing she could do to take that pain away.

She felt useless.

Then, miraculously, Nia heard a creak on the floorboards and suddenly Alex’s head popped into view. Her eyes held an exhaustion that went way beyond the physical, but just seeing her made the knot in Nia’s stomach loosen. Nia shifted Brainy’s weight in her arms, holding him tightly as the coughing fit finally abated and he slouched with a groan into her shoulder. She desperately wanted to warm him with her energy, but that probably wasn’t the right call when he was already burning like a furnace against her side.

“Hey, hey, I heard the commotion,” Alex said, her expression serious as she took stock of the situation. Habitually, she rolled up her sleeves. “What happened?”

“He had a nightmare,” Nia said, trying to sound stronger than she felt. “I barely got him out of there. He was dreaming of Leviathan’s ship again, of being trapped in that room—”

Alex sighed before Nia had even finished talking, leaning heavily into the arm of the sofa. “I was afraid this might happen,” she admitted. Her eyes flickered back to Brainy sympathetically. “He’s put up a good fight so far, but that radiation did a number on him. Whether he likes it or not, those nanites are going to have to run their course.” She pressed her hand to the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. “Damnit. I shouldn’t’ve called him to the Fortress. I just got desperate. I-I thought that maybe he could reverse the projector if we did it fast enough. That Kara—”

Her voice warbled over her sister’s name and Nia immediately reached out to take Alex’s arm, meeting her eye firmly. “Don’t blame yourself,” she said. “You and I both know he would’ve come either way.” Nia was forced to let go of Alex when a particularly harsh shudder ran down Brainy’s spine, all but immobilising him. He tensed against her before groaning out, wrapping his arms tightly around his front, obscuring the wavering flicker of his central projector.

When he was able to open his eyes again, he saw Nia first. “N-Nia?” he croaked, his voice so stricken it hurt. He shook his head, barely able to articulate himself. “You c-can’t be here—t-the radiation.”

“Hey, hey,” Nia soothed, taking his face, running her nails beneath his jaw. She drew his eyes up to meet hers. He felt so delicate in her grasp, as fragile as cracked glass. “It was just a nightmare. We’re at the Tower, remember?”

Brainy bared his teeth, his dark eyes flashing with fresh tears. He ducked his chin into her cupped palm. “B-but it hurts.”

“Oh honey, I know,” Nia said, her own eyes stinging as she let Brainy fold fully against her. His pulse raged in his forehead, beating an obscure pattern into the base of her throat. He was crying again, his tears dousing the collar of her suit, but even that was too taxing on him now. He’d slip back into restless sleep sooner or later, whether that would be better for him had yet to be proven. She looked up at Alex desperately. “Can we give him another dose of those nanites? Maybe that’ll—”

But Alex was already shaking her head. “They’re doing their job,” she said. “I know it looks rough, and it is, but I promise he’s healing, Nia. He just has to ride this out.”

Nia closed her eyes, pressing her cheek into his damp hair. “He’s in so much pain.”

“I know,” Alex said softly. She sighed, crouching down so that she could run the back of her hand against Brainy's cheek. When he didn't stir, she stood, jerking her head towards the elevator. “Look, I’m gonna get Lena’s portal watch from downstairs. It’s the quickest way to get him home so that he can sleep this off safely.”

Nia could only nod. It didn’t feel like she was even fully there anymore. A part of her consciousness had tied itself far too deeply with Brainy’s pain, maybe from the moment she’d first slipped into his nightmare.

She hardly heard Alex when she asked, “One last thing; do you know where he’s calling home these days?”

Despite that, she didn’t hesitate. “My apartment,” Nia said, wiping the tears from her eyes in an automatic gesture. She sobered as she stared at the moisture on her fingers, for a second unsure whether it had come from her face or Brainy’s. She glanced up again. “He’ll be safe there,” she explained, before hastening to add, “besides, I can’t leave him alone like this.”

Alex’s expression was warm. She glanced between Brainy and Nia knowingly, an eyebrow half raised. “Are you two…?”

“We’re figuring things out,” Nia said. As if on cue, Brainy made a soft sound against her, desperately nuzzling into her throat, a crackly hum easing from his chest. His breath was hot and welcoming, his lips brushing her skin without being fully conscious of the act. Even still, Nia felt her face warm.

“Looks like it’s going well,” Alex noted with a smirk. It was the first time Nia had seen her smile since they’d lost Kara. It was a tired smile, sure, but if nothing else, she was glad she could offer Alex at least that. Even if it did come at her own expense.

Alex winked before she turned away. “I’ll get the watch.”

“Thank you.”

Nia waited for Alex nervously, her fingers tugging gently through Brainy’s sweat soaked hair. When his eyes fluttered open again and he found her so instinctively, she kissed his forehead, letting her lips linger on his clammy skin. He tasted of salt and metal.

“Hold on, Wildcat,” she murmured. “You’ll be home soon.”

Home. The word had come out so easily, but the moment she said it, she knew it was the truth. She didn’t want Brainy anywhere else. Not tonight, not ever again. And as he sagged gratefully into her embrace, lowering his head with the barest hint of acknowledgement, she knew that he felt the same.

[bravernificationbeam]

thinking abt how isami, smith, and the audience's central questions in bravern

(isami = who + what is bravern???? smith = what do I want, what's my place in this conflict? [that's just called being 24] the audience = same as isami, who/what is bravern)

are ones whose answers are very obvious but only if you have the right framework. otherwise the answers seem so fantastical that they are inconceivable even as potential solutions (i'll note that even people i've seen who called smithvern before ep 8/9 never quite got the mechanism right.....)

like the op basically screams at you twice that smith is bravern, they really do carry themselves quite similarly ('you sound just like him' isami says haha), bravern slips up. y'know. enough (he's so excited he has to just roll w/ the fact that he as an apparent stranger knows isami's name, this mecha has seen an 80s american sci-fi movie apparently, he speaks fucking english fhdfjjdkfjk HE KNOWS THAT SMITH GETS FULL BODY WAXES.....[I LOVE YOU BRAVERN!!!!!!!]). but like What. how would that even Work. but then you get that one puzzle piece and you realize! OH. THAT'S HOW IT WOULD WORK!!!!! (for me it was seeing that cunus has time travel powers. immediately went 🤨)

likewise. smith's questions. what got me on this track was thinking abt how....when cunus is talking to smith does she even know what she means?

"I've always felt you. [You] had this feeling deep inside that [you] couldn't share with anyone. And it thrilled me."

a lot of deathdrive lore is very mysterious and doesn't make a lot of sense ("always"?), but i get the sense that she means some sort of deep unnameable longing rather than something specific--even if she has had some sort of greater knowledge of what's going on on earth than what the deathdrives gain by being in orbit, i don't know if she could necessarily detangle human emotions like that. whatever, the canon is ambiguous; all i'm trying to say is that i don't think we can determine with certainty whether cunus is talking about an identity desire or a romantic/sexual desire on smith's part--or whether she even knows herself (or, as a deathdrive, would know the difference!)

nonetheless you can tell by smith's reaction that he knows cunus is right about him. he's not totally, exactly sure how, but she really, really is ('the bullies knew i was gay before i did' type ass). and he's just abt to get his puzzle piece to figure it out 😉

so like this is all to say when smith goes up to bravern in ep 2 and asks to pilot him, when he's watching wistfully from the sidelines as bravern and isami save the day it's like. he can't ask to be the robot. that question and the desire behind it are incomprehensible to him. wanting to be isami in that situation is the only answer he can really come to, but it's not quite right and i think smith knows it. it's why smith's reflections on heroism are never quite clear--even from episode one, "this is what i've always wanted to be" girl. which is?? 'i wanted to become like him' GIRL. WHO!

i think that moment when cunus first starts talking to him and he's like 'i think you've got the wrong guy, i think you're looking for...bravern' really speaks well to how he rationalizes what's going on in his head--there's kind of a beat where you think he's going to say isami, so it's this dual moment containing both his crush and his whole Thing (weird envy he doesn't fully understand) surrounding bravern, and it's sooo close (uh yep. she sure was looking for bravern), metatextually it's there! but textually it isn't.

and so then smith, falling from the fucking sky after being time loop resurrection bravernified (god i love this show) can FINALLLYYYYY SEEEEE that he wanted to be the robot!!!!!! AND he loves isami!

as do we the audience! answering both of the central questions at once and finally getting to see that paradigm we weren't quite grasping

and it's all So Queer. and i LOVE that and i LOVE that we as the audience get to go along on this queer narrative journey with sumiisa 💖

[blueywrites]

Below is a little teaser from Chapter Eleven of To Know You're Mine.

Please picture this version of Eddie when you read it 😉

And good thing, too. Because, though it’s nearly incomprehensible since it’s only been ten minutes, someone is knocking on your door, and you know it isn’t Penny.

Deepening light spills across the paper bags on your kitchen island like the smoldering embers of the day have flared once more before fizzling out. Golden hour, you think absently, eyes locked on the mahogany door as if you can see through to the man you know is standing on the other side. Your heart thunders as you shuffle closer, the tide of your emotions rising again, prickling at your eyes. Relief, trepidation, anticipation, hope, fear. They all rush through you, thundering with each frantic pump of your heart as your toes nudge against the welcome mat. The metal of the doorknob is slippery in your palm. 

Slowly, almost shyly, you open the door.

Eddie is rocking on the balls of his feet, one knee jiggling, fist tapping his opposite thigh in a futile attempt to release the tension, but the motions ease as he sees you. All that’s left is the rapid rise of his chest beneath a grease-stained gray tank, visible thanks to the coveralls tied around his hips. 

The first thing you register is that he’s dirty. Impossibly dirty. His pale quartz neck is glistening and smudged with it, and the pits of his tank are darkened with the evidence of his labor. His curls are tied back but loosely now, a single head shake away from coming undone; the dark pieces falling around his jaw are frizzy, and his bangs cling to his forehead. His face is darkened by grime left behind by hasty swipes of those calloused fingers, which you imagine must have pinched his chin in thought, scrubbed over his face in consternation, and scratched at his jaw when the drying sweat itched him. 

Eddie is utterly filthy. But when he raises his hands, grubby and dark like charcoal, you want nothing more than to feel him stain every inch of you. Your face softens, the relief of his presence unable to be concealed.

“Baby—” The choked endearment seems pulled from him involuntarily, and your breath hitches at the tenderness of it. Eddie’s brow pinches, brown eyes melting like honey as his fingers extend, seeking you as if by instinct. His eyes flick from your face to his hands as they reach for you, widening as if he’s just noticed the grease marring his skin. 

Those calloused fingers jerk back before they make contact with you, and the abruptness has you jolting back too. You only just now notice that you’d been leaning in, swaying toward him subconsciously.

For a moment, you and Eddie just stare at each other, the relief of your reunion ticking into awkwardness as you simultaneously flinch away.

[edenfenixblogs]

Palm tree, daffodil, and cactus for the Ask Game!

(The villain question, the sibling question, and the “what are you currently learning about” question)

palm tree ⇢ do you have a fictional villain you shouldn’t like but love regardless?

Oh boy. Not technically fictional, but in his fictional representation — Ecbert from Vikings. He’s so compelling and his motivations and intensity is like that of a Shakespearean villain. I mean, just look at his monologue to Jesus in the church. It takes my breath away every time. Even without context.

I also find the real actual story of the real actual man to be fascinating. In general, I find early Anglo-Saxon era British history fascinating.

daffodil ⇢ do you have siblings? if yes, in what ways do you think you’re similar to or different from them?

I do! But none by blood. @will-write-for-food is my sister, who I met in high school. I also have a friend (it feels weird calling her a friend tbh. She’s just my sister) who I’ve had since I was 4 and she was five. She’s also biologically an “only child,” but that made our bond even stronger. Nobody but an only child understands how fucking boring summers are if you’re an only child like another only child. Several years in a row we lived together by force. I would sleep over at her house until her mom needed a break and then she would send us both back and to my parents and on and on we’d go. I was maid of honor at her wedding. I’m aunt to her children.

As for similarities: both my sisters and I are motivated by love and family and kindness and are naturally rebellious in a dangerous way. We can all be snarky and we are all funny as fuck. But we never wanted to do drugs or go out and do any of the dangerous things you saw teens do in movies. We all care deeply about making the world better and believe in the value of choosing kindness and love any time you have the chance—even if it means gritting your teeth and clenching your fist while doing so. But also, we would all fear the fucking world apart if you hurt anyone we love. We also never abandon our friends to prioritize romance. We all value friendship as its own distinct type of love and relationship that isn’t less important than anything else.

For my Since-Pre-k sister, we are really quite different people. She leans more conservative (not in a terrible way though) whereas I’m very leftist. She is extremely romance driven in a way that @will-write-for-food and I are not. Over all, I think she’s a lot more traditional and normative in her life choices than we are, but not in a judgmental way. It’s just how she is. And it doesn’t change any of the things that matter about any of us. @will-write-for-food and I are also much more intellectually motivated than she is. She isn’t dumb though! She’s very smart! She just doesn’t learn things for fun like we do. She goes out and does stuff instead. I value that about her. Whenever I get too in my head she is amazing at shaking me out of it. She’s also not super into politics. She’s very practical.

As for @will-write-for-food and I? Ooooooh boy. There is no way to fully disentangle this. She’s my other half. We are basically the same person. I’m much more optimistic than she is in general. And I’m also soooooooo much more humble. (😉😘) But she is so strong in a way that inspires me. She can keep her head down and keep moving forward in a way that is incomprehensible to me. I’m glad she’s learned to reach out more over the years and know that she doesn’t HAVE TO operate like a one woman emergency crew. But the fact that, when the chips are down, she *CAN?* It’s astounding to witness. She’s also funnier than me. Or anyone. She’s the funniest fucking person in the world. And if you think *I’M* patient?????????? You have all seen NOTHING. You don’t know the meaning of the word patience. None of us do. The word belongs to her.

As for a way I’m different than both of them? Aside from what was already mentioned, I think it’s pretty funny that they are both Irish Catholic with a big, loud Jewish found family.

cactus ⇢ something you’re currently learning (about)?

Interior design. (I got this ask a lot and will give a diff answer every time because I’m always learning a million things)

[infiniteko]

I personally can't think of anything but just being

But I do observe feelings and thoughts existing somehow on their own,as if I'm just seeing them not feeling or thinking them

Is there more?

Do you want there to be more?

Whatever you & I can come up with, is nowhere near what actually Is.

" " is beyond words, incomprehensible😉

[mara-xx217]

Brain flower rag 💕

It's coming very soon! Here's a little snippet for what's to come! 😉💕

Warnings: Body Horror, Uncanny Valley, Horror/Suspense

Just like how the black changes the humans, it also affects the plants. On this soil, that has seen countless deaths, that curious flower once started blooming. It requires fertile ground to grow to its full bloom and there is no better source of life than humans.

- The New Gods, when asked about the Brain Flower.

You didn’t know if you should have felt fear or relief upon seeing a humanoid silhouette in the humid, dark fog of the Thicket. You knew you had delved too deep and that it was only a matter of time before you were killed, but you still had the faintest shimmer of hope that you would at least not die alone and in this godsforsaken tree. Still, you held your voice back and swallowed it, now realizing how the shadow of a person twitched and shambled their way towards you, or at least in your direction. The tap, tap, clack of metal dragging on the semi-hard, wooden roots and branches of the tree’s insides inspired a primal fear inside of you that weakened your knees and anchored you in place. 

A distorted voice called out in the fog, different from the light, singsong ones that seemed to follow you wherever you go. Deeper, more faraway sounding. Muffled as though spoken through a thick wall, from behind a gag and with your ears full of cotton. It didn’t have the same lilt as the other voices, not whimsical and alluring but totally unnerving and it set off every alarm within your mind that you were in danger and that you needed to move. But you didn’t. You couldn’t, or so you thought. You took a half step back, looking forward with wild eyes that darted around in the darkness, trying to make sense of the figure that was becoming more and more apparent the closer it became. 

Not one of those strange, feminine-esque monsters but a man, clear as day. Your eyes couldn’t search his frame because they were solely focused on the bulbous protrusion that rested atop of his shoulders. It fully encapsulated his neck and head, giving no indication of who exactly he was, though his dress would suggest he was a foreigner in these lands and in this dark place. The yellow colour of the strangeness was an eyesore and you couldn’t look away from it or the pinkish-red, seemingly fleshy petals, or perhaps leaves, that rose up from the man’s shoulders like some kind of collar. Over his shoulder rested a bow, its strings frayed and quiver arrowless. In his left hand, a hatchet, worn and seemingly something he did not carry with him in the dungeon. His movements were unstable and jerked in an unnatural manner. Again, you heard the muffled voice, only this time it was louder, though no less clear to you. 

“H-H-Huh-?” Your heart freezed in your chest. The noise was incomprehensible, barely recognizable as a voice at all. You couldn’t discern whether or not there was any urgency in the voice’s tone or if it was flat or droning. The person- a man- continued to shamble forward, not unlike a ghoul recently resurrected through necromancy, though there was a stiffness in his movements that would nearly suggest that, perhaps, he wasn’t as willing of a participant in his actions as one might think. 

“Mmmm… Mmmm… Mmmhmmm…” The man stumbles to a stop before you. You have your hand on your weapon, trembling hard enough that your armour shudders and clatters together. 

“D-D-Don’t come a-any c-c-closer-!” The man doesn’t move, nor does he stop mumbling, or humming, unintelligibly. The protrusion on his head begins to swell slightly. You take a step back, then two, then just as you're about to turn and run, the man’s body jerks violently. 

POP!! 

[twothpaste]

Giegue/giygas for the ask game, maybe?

First impression: I learned about Giygas through internet osmosis long before I even thought to play EarthBound. All the usual "ooooh this game is secretly sooo dark" and "he's ack-chewally an aborted fetus, see, oooo" kinda shit. I remember it giving me the impression Mother was way scarier and edgier than it turned out to be. (I played games like OFF and Yume Nikki first though. So by the time I got around to Mother, it was very refreshing to play somethin bright & uplifting at its core, lmao.) (In retrospect, I kinda wish Giygas wasn't among the first things every prospective player is told about the EarthBound. Going into the Giygas battle blind seems like it would've rearranged my brain molecules, and I wish I'd gotten to experience it like that.) I forget when exactly I learned about Giegue (I didn't get to play M1 blind either), but I'm pretty sure my first impression was honestly pretty neutral? The imposing presence of a huge alien spaceship, 8-bit sci-fi machinery, and a barely legible creature in a capsule was pretty wicked to see for myself the first time though!

Impression now: Giygas is a big triple decker chocolate layer cake worth of metaphor & symbolism. The existential horror of growing up, the fear of losing who you fundamentally are in the process, the horrific inhumanity adults are capable of, the hopelessness of coming to terms with the world as it is, and so on. Not really a character per se, but the quintessential globular slurry of adolescent angst Ness & pals've gotta contend with. Giegue is a bittersweet little story about a broken family. An internal conflict between vengeance, familial love, and maybe where one's obligations lie? Cool antagonist for sure. I wanna like him more than I do (M1's cryptic hands-off approach to storytelling is hard for me to sink my teeth into 😔). I've speculatively written (and drawn a comic for the upcoming zine 😉) about how Giegue became Giygas, and read some good fics on the topic. In the canon we're given, though? There's really so little binding them together narratively or thematically… I have a difficult time reconciling the two, in the context of the games themselves. Mother 2 in general feels more like a reboot than a sequel - and there's hardly if any "lore" weaving Giegue & Giygas together - so Itoi's choice to declare they're one and the same just seems kinda odd to me. C'est la vie. Fan creators make do.

Favorite moment: The Giygas battle, but like, before he goes sicko mode. When he's bound to a chamber of wires and innards, reflecting Ness' face back at him, and it turns out our fervently raving buddy Porky is actually the one in "control". The atmosphere is so intense and unnerving, such a bizarre yet captivating way to ramp things up. There's like, this sense of stomach-churning dread, as you begin - if only scarcely - to realize the alien overlord you were expecting is an entity far more powerful and personal and helpless and incomprehensible than you ever could've imagined. I mean. You know, because the internet spoiled you when you were 11. But in the bigness of the moment it still makes my mitochondria itch on a primal and cellular level. /pos. Love it.

Idea for a story: My favorite Giegue thing is the vague implication (??) of whatever the hell George did to to him. Y'know, whatever made him hate humanity so much. Whenever I see fan content speculating on how George might've experimented on him or mistreated him I do in fact Feel Somethin' There. (I have been a sucker for angsty-creature-in-a-lab stories from the time I saw Mewtwo Strikes Back in kindergarten all the way to Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3 a couple months ago, and I don't suppose I'll ever be sick of 'em.) The conflict it introduces between George and Maria is intriguing too. Like, her husband's treating her dearly beloved child like a science project? Trying to extract the secrets of PSI from his oversized alien brain?? You know if this kinda shit went down, those two were on a caliber of divorce drama the world has rarely seen.

Unpopular opinion: I really like Giegue design interpretations that're freaky and grotesque and biologically unfamiliar. When the beast isn't just mammalian in nature. Truly out of this world.

Favorite relationship: A mean-spirited but otherwise ordinary 13-year-old willingly aligned himself with the alien emodiment of all things evil. And the alien embodiment of all things evil willingly let the kid be his right-hand man. And I'm normal about it. EarthBound tells us basically nothing about how Porky n' Giygas' partnership in crime came to be, but speculating about it sends me into a shark frenzy. Porky seeking power over the world that wronged him, at literally any cost. Giygas weaponizing a child's worst, most vengeful impulses. Porky ultimately usurping Giygas, at least in terms of agency. Witnessing the absolute horror his "master" becomes, and simply sidestepping out of the universe itself to dodge the mess he brought about. I like to imagine there was a period where Giygas was still cognizant enough to maintain a rapport with Porky - and that the two of them fucking hated each other. Both of 'em using the other as a means to an end, assured in the conviction they're the one with the upper hand. And they're kind of both wrong. Bloaw up da worl.

Favorite headcanon: Giegue/Giygas speaks (telepathically?) with a rural midwestern accent. Courtesy of the fine folks who raised him. Other aliens probably think it's weird and mondo cringe, but are too intimidated to say so.

[mako-neexu]

smut fic so crazy i have to document my thoughts no matter how incomprehensible. (delusion below)

that kind of love is delicious. but idk where to start... theres so much to say.. but i guess ill do it level by level like in the novel? nah, i think i will do it randomly..

but of course, what i like the most was the way the 'game' is set. where ritsuka could get one favor/help from oberon each level in the dungeon. but the condition is that he won't be by her side unless she calls for him to help her. which is seriously??? makes me insane. iirc she had a line where she said while in the 2nd or 3rd floor (i think) that "It's almost as if Oberon wants me to depend on him..." the dynamic is making me throw up from so much excitement. i also like how he made her vocal about what she wants www even if she got assaulted by tentacles or that one lewd mors (which was honestly creative lmao like jp fandom is a genius ww), the half-helplessness she feels pushed her into calling for his name (sometimes with those sighs 😉) and request for help from the 'torture' she 'suffered' from.

ALSO theres that midsummer night's dream title that changed from D to EX like that was really hot asfkjdghlk like assimilation with oberon.. later turns into being the same as him and her soul fully belonging to him as his mate. ritsuka's body is remade to be the same as him like sdkjbskjdfgjkf

i thinked what shocked me the most was the 'safe room' level. i knew something was up but as soon as i saw how ritsuka was so frantic to drink the water and fruits prepared by oberon, the end notes shocked me??? i LOVE IT so much kasjdfkjdsfgh so thats why the title gained was 'gochisousama'. apparently they were from the autumn forest itself and it reminded me that you should NOT eat what a fairy offers or else.. of course we know the consequences. but according to the end notes, its for the sake of loneliness, of hunger, of this distance from oberon that made her suddenly crave for him so much that she couldnt help but consume what he prepared..i also like how he included a bunch of sex toys dkjfdkjgjkbdjkf my face feels so hot reading it i love it so much..

during the progression of the levels, ritsuka also acquired blue markings on her back which is butterfly shape marking asfljdfgjh which meant that, of course, her body and soul is being tainted in oberon's.. (i think this solidified further when the mors came inside her ww)

but what made me laugh was the marriage contract XD he also wrote it in probably british? or what fairy language is used in morgan's kingdom www still the method to sign it was just both delicious and bizarre www

still, the way the game is set is just??? i love it too much. oberon pushed her in 'his' direction but still made sure she had room to decline and go back. but the exit was already obvious since you only have to go back and the 'dungeon' only led to the bottom which was the opposite of a way out- or rather.. she refused to think about it and resolved to meet oberon- see the real oberon instead of the illusions themself, who she wanted to see. the end, the conclusion, fulfilled by her desires which the flames were fanned by oberon when he set this up.

near the end, the lantern still gave her hope, which would have been the perfect entrance for artoria to bust oberon's ass and save ritsuka ww but this is between obeguda, with the goal of claiming ritsuka's entirety for oberon and 'returning' to that abyss where separation is nonexistent.

"I don't want to betray this light..." That lantern still burned in the end after all. But oberon's question really was a nail in the coffin ww

"If that's the case then I'll ask you," Oberon's voice quietly trembled, "Where in the world is that hope(light) of yours?"

and the words broke ritsuka??? so good.. askjfhsdjkgh the light shined the way to move forward. but 'forward' to where? if the exit and the outside world is that way, why didnt this light point the way? why did the light keep shining so brightly? why was that light burning? and the sense of resignation and defeat washed over her. she doesnt even know why she ended up in such a place the moment she was at the final floor. the feeling of despair was delicious it was so great im clawing at my chest...!!!!

she could only stutter with that feeling of despair! as she tries to find a reason for that lantern that she carried with her!!!

and its just like in the garden!!!! the garden!!!!! "It's alright, Ritsuka. That's enough. You can relax now. Whether its over or still in the middle of it, you can let go." you can finally be free. you can rest easy. so just rely on me. you've done enough!!!

there was also that "fallen star" title. i think its the best. it really does remind me of lb6's ending and his views on titania ueueue

seriously this kind of courtship... www it also reminds me of kairi's previous works which included a similar theme.. but this time three authors worked on it so thanks for the collab yomoko-san, kanonige-san and kairi-san herself

[starleska]

I keep this 'The Spot' guy on my feed, and idk who he is.

You got any info on him? And why Tumblr is force-electing him to be the next Tumblr Sexy Man?

well, this is a welcome question!! 💖 i'd be more than happy to clue you in on the greatness that is The Spot 🥰

so, The Spot (or Dr. Jonathan Ohnn) is a minor villain from the Spider-Man comics, and a significant villain in the animated Sony Spider-Man movies, specifically Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (which just got released!). he's a scientist who was involved in an accident which caused his body to be covered with interdimensional portals, or 'spots'. these spots can be used similarly to how portals work in the game Portal: they can cut across both space and dimensions.

BIG spoilers for Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse below:

so the thing about The Spot is that he's always been a bit of a joke villain. the Spider-Man canon is littered with strange and unique bad guys who have fun little gimmicks, and The Spot is no exception: so much so that in Across the Spider-Verse, he is introduced as a 'villain of the week', and shown to be awkward and a bit incompetent at the whole bad guy thing. in fact, we learn that in the first movie (Into the Spider-Verse) that our protagonist and Spider-Man, Miles Morales, actually meets Jonathan before his transformation into The Spot. Miles tosses a bagel at the poor guy's head 🙈 you can see how from the very beginning, The Spot is supposed to be a big joke.

however, ATSV plays with this idea. The Spot discovers that he is able to use the spots on his body to travel to other dimensions: specifically dimensions containing the same collider which caused his accident. he uses these dimensions to make himself stronger, but his interfering with these other dimensions starts to make the canon of the Spider-Verse fall apart. a significant plot point across these films is the idea of multiverses, and a seemingly infinite amount of Spider-People with their own dimensions. all of the Spider-People have their own unique traits, yet share similar events which must happen: e.g., the death of a loved one. The Spot's interdimensional travel disrupts this process, and puts the whole multiverse at risk.

pretty much; The Spot goes from being this adorkable, bumbling fella with a deeply tragic backstory, to a terrifying, multiverse-ending threat with incomprehensible powers. he's got all of the traits we Tumblr Sexymen connoisseurs love - his suggestion page for the Sexypedia Wiki has already gotten way over the amount of votes necessary to add him, so i'm sure we'll see him there soon 😉

if you're curious about him, here's a little clip! of course not much of the movie is online yet, but if you have the chance, go watch ATSV in cinemas. it is quite possibly the most gorgeous movie i've ever seen;;;

hope this helps :3c

[lostinforestbound]

I'M FREE TO COMMENT!!! My Cal, Rolan, and Zevlor Accidentally/Purposely Stopping Their Crush From Leaving request is so good! I'm flattered you found it fun 🤭 I love it especially Cal being nervous when he's aware he has a crush 🫦, how casual he is that he even would look for them when he's still unaware 😅, just how obvious it is that he's nervous with them 🤭, he wished he could be more confident to get it over with it 😤, he doesn't want to lose them because of his crush though 🥺, he naturally gravitates to them & strike a conversation with them...but ended up being distracted by their face 🥴, he couldn't help but stopped them with his tail when they're about to leave 🛑, they tripped because of it which he grabbed them but he tripped too 😅, he got up as he apologised profusely to them 😩, he was so embarrassed & thought they hate him now 😫, he was shocked when they laughed & thought it was at him 😔, they explained the situation is funny & he only needed to ask them to stay 😉, he gained the courage to ask them out 👍, how thrilled he is when they accepted (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠), he even promised to have his tail behave 😁, it happened with Rolan during a fight except it escalated 😔, he was a jerk to them despite his crush on them which sounds too accurate 😅, his crush whether it's Tav or not took him somewhere private so there won't be an audience 👍, they encouraged him silently to let out his anger without anyone else there except both of them 👍, his words can be quite hurtful that both of them are on the verge of tears 😢 (I appreciate this because I would have cried from his words despite knowing he's a good man who's just going through a lot 😭), he realised what he had said to them after he calmed down 😔, his tail wrapped around their ankle when they turned to leave 😢, he's unsure if it's because it had a mind of his own or he truly wanted them to stay 😔, he retracted his tail when they looked at him confusion ❓, he mumbled something incomprehensible & left them 😞, he didn't looked back but he felt guilty for yelling at them 😢, he thought he ruined any chances he had with them & won't be surprised if they despise him 😭, he wrapped his tail around their wrist to talk after his siblings are saved 🗣️, he gave a genuine apology for everything he had done to them 👍, he wants them to listen so his tail didn't let go of their wrist yet 👂, he only looked up because of the spade of his tail is being gently caressed by them with a smile 😊, that's when he has fallen even harder for them 💘, he planned on confessing to them after his apprenticeship has finished 🥹, Zevlor has a lot of control over his tail considering he's a soldier ����, any movement from his tail is with a purpose unless it's relaxed 😌, he knows how to hide his emotions from his soldier days 😶, he doesn't show it even to his crush 😶, a crush is the least of his worries as well as he's certain it's unrequited too 😔, he never thought his crush would even look at him after his betrayal yet they chose to speak to him 🥺, his crush just grew but he scolded himself for letting himself fall for them even harder after everything he had done 😞, he found his self-respect & purpose again during the final battle 🥹, he chose to seek them out to confess & move on 👍, he started the conversation by checking on their injuries 🤕, they were about to find a healing potion when they saw he's injured 👍, he stopped them by wrapping his tail around their waist 😳, he let go before confessing everything to them 🥺, he was surprised to know it's mutual (⁠゜⁠o⁠゜⁠; his tail thumped on the floor happily 🤭, he teased them with his tail whether it's to grab or block them 😁, and he loves hearing them laughing because of it 😄 Thank you so much for doing my request because I love it so much :) Sorry if you already have this because I'm too paranoid that Tumblr ate it 🤣

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much!!

[iwanthermidnightz]

Ooo... Tree, did you see what Enty posted??? She's about to get him!

💀

The folklore of it all huh? That’s why it’s my favorite album title 😉

Think about all the people who just find it incomprehensible to believe, and all the different stories passed around.

[of-mutts-and-men]

holy fuck, man. i was reading your posts (excellent and all that) but i saw your reply to an anon with the video of when you were enjoying your rosé (amongst other things 😉) and saw some of your pics and fuck you're so hot and handsome. i am transmasc myself but can't transition and i don't know your sexuality but fuck you're so beautiful i would sooo do good by you (me drooling incomprehensibly) embarrassing as fuck, lol

Omgg thank you 🙈. You flatter me. <3