#like he has FEELINGS hes a HUMAN BEINg which is quite a revelation for him ofc.

[wraithsoutlaws]

shit aint so bad.

[chastiefoul]

—finally giving up on your unrequited love ft. alhaitham

a/n: ouch i hurt myself writing this. wc: 1.6k words of yapping about unrequited feelings

once upon a time you were grateful for alhaitham’s indifference, the lack of anything he was being when you’re badgering him with chatters, a detailed description of your day, concerns over him, and the occasional gifts.

it seemed like a blessing once, like acceptance. the slightest open of the door, thinking you could invite yourself in and he’d embrace that fact. but as his apathy remain constant and unchanging, you’ve come to realization—an embarassing one at that.

that indifference, that should’ve been a sign for you; alhaitham will never return your feelings.

-

 a stroll a day, keeps the stressful thoughts away.

however today’s walk is just not doing it for you, once you decided to wake up from the dreamland you thought you’ve been living in. a faraway and unrealistic vision of a life where you end up together with the akademiya scribe. an exaggerated sigh escaped you at your own daydreaming. usually by now you’d be quick on your feet to visit the scribe, however the overdue revelation you had last night made you finally think twice before doing it. and only because of that now you’d realized just how much of your life was centered on the grey-haired man, which was a scary discovery, knowing just exactly how little you mattered to his.

you found an empty bench mid-walk, immediately sitting on it. you leaned back, both of your hands holding your weight as you look above. the sky was clear that day, but your mind was clearer, as if a thick fog has finally been lifted.

seriously, what have you been doing all this time? giving your all to someone who wanted none of you. alhaitham’s curt nod, his brief and short responses really should’ve been a clue as to how he felt about you. yet you kept being stubborn, and sometimes hope was human’s greatest enemy. what should have been a bare minimum gesture he did, your mind managed to twist it into something more; clinging to it like a water on a desert. when it turned out that was exactly all there was to it—a mirage.

you chuckled sadly. even remembering those pathetic displays, you couldn’t bring yourself to fully regret having this feeling towards alhaitham. those moments where you’d steal a glance at him and felt like the world was okay. you would not allow yourself to forget that as you became more selfish, wanting him to look at you and feel the same. but here you were, reluctantly learning to accept the fact that he may never does.

suddenly a shadow loomed over you, shielding you from the sunlight you didn’t realize was so bright.

a familiar blond invaded your vision. “(y/n)?” he called out unsure, not expecting you to be there. “oh hi there, kaveh,” you lightly said, as if your heavy train of thoughts hadn’t existed at all. you adjusted your sitting position, shifting yourself to the side as you spare an empty spot beside you for him to sit. kaveh swiftly took your silent offer up, making himself as comfortable as he could on the wooden bench. “i spotted you from afar and you seemed a little troubled, hopefully i was wrong?” the ever so kind kaveh spoke up, and you couldn’t help but smile. kaveh always felt like a friend more than alhaitham ever was, albeit knowing him after you got to know the scribe. you weren’t even sure if the grey-haired man would ever mention even a word about his roommate if it wasn’t for you hanging wround on his office on a peaceful lunch break when the fuming blond barged in and yell at him about a key.

as it turned out, it’s a known fact that most people became quiet irritable when it comes to being in contact with the curt and aloof scribe, since kaveh has been nothing but a good friend since the day he gave you a weird look about wanting to get close to the acting grand master.

“it’s kind of complicated to say,” you started, thinking of the words as you went on. “let’s just say i’m having a quite bittersweet moment.”

you rested your gaze on the bustling street in front of you. he nodded in reply, “i’m guessing it’s more bitter than it is sweet?” he asked genuinely as you smiled once more despite not feeling a drop of mirth. “i suppose so,” you replied curtly, not knowing what to say to his keen observation. keen and exactly correct.

it’s the kind of bitterness that lingered. a kind of flavor you’d expected, since you’re the one who put it in. still, when that sharp taste hit your tongue you couldn’t help but flinch. after all, things don’t stop affecting you even though you saw it coming from miles away. you just hoped the sweetness will get stronger overtime, overpowering as it wash down the unpleasant aftertaste.

kaveh mirrored your smile in return except his looked particularly patronizing, as if he could sense your helplessness.

“will you tell me what happened?” his voice sounded gentle, a care you’ve never heard from the man you’d give a limb to for him to say things along that line. how do you even begin to answer such a simple question? nothing happened, and that’s why it was the problem. the fact that you’re the only one who’s mulling all over this, being so conflicted to what he thought must be nothing. a pain so overwhelming that’s swirling all over your chest while his biggest inconvenient that day was probably a typo made in a document made by a lousy student.

the whole thing just sounded so... pathetic.

“nothing happened... it’s just, i have decided to finally give up on something,” you try your best to sound nonchalant despite having no bravery to look at him, scared that he didn’t look like he believed you.

“well, i might know a thing or two about it. sometimes when an architecture project is too... unreasonable,” kaveh paused, the word tasted like a sour lime on his mouth. “there’s no way but to give it up. especially if you take a step back as take the whole picture from many aspects; in my case, there are budget, location, materials, and so on. there would definitely be some regret about letting go especially an ambitious task, however i think many of my past-self would really like to give the present-me a big gratitude for not forcing it through,” he rambled on, despite having no idea what were you referring on. “even sometimes, the reward was just not worth the risk, you know?” he ended it at that, throwing the question at you.

you swallowed on nothing, but you needed that to let out a reply.

“yes, i do know.”

“yeah? does this mean in your case, whatever you were fighting for was not worth it in the end?”

oh, that’s the worst part. you knew, you knew it with your heart, body and soul that it would be so worth it if there’s an outcome, a scenario where alhaitham might return your feelings. oh it would be so worth it. you could smile, just imagining how worth it would it be.

but that was all it was. an unattainable imagination. an ending that you couldn’t allow yourself to be so cocky to reach.

kaveh waited for your respond patiently, but when the silence had gone for too long he moved his stare to you. he widened his eyes, his gaze softened.

“i don’t think you’re as okay as you made yourself to be,” he said softly, as you felt your cheeks wet by the uninvited tears, running along freely across your face. yet, you couldn’t make an effort to stop them, your heart knew more than anyone you needed that. to feel the sadness, to recognize it.

to let go of the fact that alhaitham will never return your feelings.

kaveh was just quiet as you sobbed quietly, putting a handkerchief silently at the space between you both. there is no empty consolation, no comforting words, no small pats on the back. there’s just silence, a little safe bubble for you to cry in without people coming over to you and asked why.

giving up is such a funny thing, how could doing it hurt more than to keep trying even though you received no sign of reciprocity at all? but you knew the answer of that.

when there hasn’t been a rejection, it’s in everyone’s nature to have hope. a hope that there’s a chance of obtaining something you’ve wished for. a chance that something could happen.

giving up means finality. a state of accepting an outcome you hadn’t wanted. a result you never asked for. an ending where all that’s left was what should have and what could have. a harsh reality people could only accept as it dangled the possibilities and visions of what ‘could have happened’ if you’d just kept trying right in front of your eyes.

like chasing your own shadow; a fun thing to do when you’re a child, but now it’s just a fitting metaphor, reminding you of a fool’s way who love in such a pathetic way.

-

once upon a time you were grateful for alhaitham’s indifference, the lack of anything he was being when you’re badgering him with chatters, a detailed description of your day, concerns over him, and the occasional gifts.

but now it’s definitely a curse. after all, anything that has to do with love was not indifference.

it was never, indifference.

---

the urge to write this in alhaitham pov........................ should i?

[shiny-jr]

outlander

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia. 

Summary: In every land you travel to, there's a god with elemental powers. But why is it that in every nation you arrive to, the gods attempt to make you stay?

Note: Why has no one done a genshin x twst thing? This is more of a concept idea than anything else. I might do a series with it, or not, or just random posts. Feel free to ask about it or request stuff for it.

This must be a dream, either that or a never-ending nightmare.

Waking up alone on a sandy beach, as if washed ashore, was disorientating. There was nothing else on the shore save for shells and the occasional crab, no debris indicating a wreck and no scattered belongings. All you had on you were the clothes on your back, which were a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, your pajamas.

In the center of your palms, was a marking you had never seen before, like a freshly painted tattoo in the shape of a tiny key. As curious as the strange new markings were and you wondered how they even got there, there was a larger question looming:

How did you get here?

GRIM

There was a cat on the beach. At least, it looked like a cat. A talking feline, with gray fur and the most impossible feature of blue fire lightly simmering in his ears.

It spoke, just like a human, with a grating high-pitched voice. It was a devilish little beast, with little fangs sharper than his comebacks that he supposed were funny.

The feline pridefully announced his name: Grim.

And when you told Grim your story of how you woke up by the water's edge with no recollection of how you got here and little to your name, the creature didn't appear to care. However, when he spoke of elements being used by people and names of nations and cruel living gods you never once heard of, only then was he very vaguely intrigued. Perhaps it was amusement, as he laughed and called you stupid for not even knowing of The Seven.

That's when you heard a growl, not from behind his fangs but from his stomach. If you looked at him from the right angle, he looked quite scrawny. The poor thing was hungry, you realized.

All it took was an offering of cans of tuna found in an empty cabin nearby, and you had him in your grasp. Following you around was only temporary, he insisted, he'd go along so long as there was food. While a talking cat was not the most conventional of guides, it was better than nothing, especially since he knew basic knowledge of each nation and where the nearest sign of civilization was located.

HEARTSLABYUL

Through the winding dark woods where mysterious creatures lurked in hollow trees and dead end paths, were meadows of flowers and peaceful grooves. However, don't let the tranquillity of nature fool you. In the distance were mountains– not actually mountains, but volcanoes and hot sprints along this land's border.

It's been said that the very millions of roses and other greenery in this land, was formed when ash rained down on dry barren earth for nearly a month. Ash from those very dormant volcanoes that were the backdrop to this perfect scenery, which came in huge black clouds thousands of years ago and blanketed the earth.

A god, an archon, the deity of law that rained hell on earth over thousands of years ago.

Long ago this land was a country of criminals ruled by a god of chaos that reveled in havoc and disorder. Among the mayhem, was a small deity of fire with mighty powers and a vision for a future he was determined to see. Riddle, is what the deity was called.

Riddle gained a number of followers to listen to his words, and he created order. A small feat compared to the many wicked still running about in a lawless land ruled by a god that valued anarchy. So, using newfound strength, the deity of fire drew forth molten lava from the mouths of the northern volcanos, burning all those in its path while the deadly plumes of smoke and ash suffocated those that remained. Atop the remains of the destroyed towns and cities, he built a new nation of order for his loyal followers.

Today, it is a thriving nation filled with flowers and greenery. However, there is one issue. The god of pyro, Riddle, is a tyrant. Every law is expected to be followed without question and without fail, beheadings have become nearly a daily occurrence with the criminals often being charged with mistakingly picking flowers on Wednesdays, drinking the wrong sort of tea post-meals, or playing croquet after five pm.

You were fortunate to be spared after your audience with the god of law, for breaking the rule: one must never bring a cat to a formal affair. Before he could burn you were you stood, you interjected, answering that your companion was no cat, so you had broken no rule.

Well, he promptly apologized for the misunderstanding and in turn, offered to make up for it by inviting you to a tea party. It would be best to except his invitation, afterall, he was the same deity that buried nearly an entire country in lava and ash, then built his kingdom atop their remains. He was a tyrant that beheaded and burned people on the daily. It was wise not to get on his bad side. Besides, he appears to have taken a fancy for you. Riddle implores that you tell him more of your world while you ignore the whispers of rebellion.

There is no leaving Heartslabyul, not without the explicit permission from the god of law. The borders with their volcanoes burn any would-be invaders, allowing passage only to merchants and travelers who have received the pyro deity's blessing. Why would Riddle ever give you his blessing to see you go?

SAVANACLAW

Across the volcanoes and hot springs of the borders, the mountains turn green with dense jungles. Across the river lies the savanna where the world's most wondrous creatures run free. Times have been turbulent, the shaking ground was evidence of troubles with this nation's divine beings, or rather, now single divine being.

Earthquakes have always been a sign of something occurring either for a purpose or unintentionally by someone else. The harsher the quake, the greater the importance of the event. And not too long ago, a ginormous tremor shook the entire globe. Something of major importance had happened.

A god, an archon, the deity of intellect was the new sovereign after tragedy befell his elder brother.

In the past the land was under the protection of the god of strength, a mighty god worshipped by his people. This god had a young heir who was also beloved by the people. However, most forgot or completely disliked the younger brother of the god of strength, a deity of ground, Leona, who had a burning hated for his brother.

Leona amassed followers of his own in secret. It came as no surprise that the common and the wealthy adored the exalted god of strength. However, the poor detested him, because he offered no help to them, no matter how much they prayed and offered what little they had to his alter. Instead, their prayers for mercy and for a change in luck, were answered by the deity of ground. The change of luck came from the death of the former god and his son, paving the way for a new sovereign.

Today, there is uncertainty in the street. Many of the former worshippers of the god of strength believe in one thing. The god of geo, Leona, is unfit to rule. The poor and mistreated have emerged from hiding places in the shadows, filled with newfound confidence for their was finally a god that answered their prayers. However, there remains a growing tension between both factions. Followers of the new god sing his praises, while followers who mourn for his brother believe that everything is falling into disarray.

You were promptly introduced to the god of intellect by his followers that wished to spread the good word. There was something wrong, you and your companion both agreed. How could a powerful god of strength and his young heir just perish without warning? Something was amiss.

This was just a new follower, at least in his eyes. So he brushed you off, allowing you to partake in the best food and drink only his followers had the privilege of receiving. Testing your luck, you decided you would ask him if he knew of a way home. For now you filled him in, explaining your origins and recent adventures. For such a conniving and arrogant leader, he was surprisingly lax. It even appeared as if he wasn't even listening to your words, just dozing off on some pillows. Your words were at least more interesting to him than the rumors of possible unrest.

Perhaps he does know a way for you to return home, but he doesn't want to tell you. It's as simple as that. He likes the new follower, you. Besides, you're not going. There is always the option of traveling further, but why do so when the geo deity has what you need? Leona greatly loathes betrayal from his own worshippers, so you wouldn't leave Savanaclaw to see another god, would you?

OCTAVINELLE

In the seas dwell creatures of unimaginable horrors living deep within the watery depths, across the ocean over turbulent waves there are islands of paradise. The chain of islands composed warm southern beaches and cold northern snowlands. This may be paradise, but a toll must be paid to even get near the islands.

A tax is applied to all arriving merchants wishing to trade and tourists wishing to step foot on the island. It doesn't make much sense, until you see their towns and cities bursting with trade. Business was booming, apparently. The water is clear and pristine, you could see the vibrant coral reefs and schools of fish swimming below.

A god, an archon, the deity of contracts once came from these very waters when there was no land.

Thousands of years ago there was nothing but ocean out this far away from the mainland. That is, until a deity of water appeared from the depths. He promised a new nation to traveling merchants, so long as they worshipped him. The deity introduced himself as Azul.

Azul had grown bored of the dull happenings under the sea, for he had achieved most things beneath the waves. The ocean could not satisfy his endless greed. He had his sights set on higher elevation, with the lofty goal of being just as powerful on land as he was in the ocean. He moved waves, creating tsunamis outward but revealing islands once hidden by water. The merchants took to land and fulfilled their end of the deal, worshipping him while creating a prosperous nation of deals.

In present day, hardly anyplace can compare to the thriving hub the nation has become. However, loyal followers have begun to see his greed. The god of hydro, Azul, is a charlatan. The ocean in all its vastness was not enough to satisfy his desires, it was why he took to land. For the promise of fulfilling prayers, something always must be given in turn or the worshippers must risk going on a quest. But, it is not always as it seems. One way or another, a prayer asking for something will end in the worshipper becoming in debt to him.

In exchange for an answer to the continued question of how to return home, you have nothing to offer for payment except for ideas. Home was modern, this world was not yet on par with the technology you knew. So you offer ideas of inventions, a device to capture an image in time, a mechanism like a box with wheels, a tool to contact someone miles away.

He believes you're quite bright, you think it false flattery to deceive you but you would be wrong. Your ideas are truly brilliant, and will no doubt earn him more millions and influence in other nations on the mainland! Best to take the compliment with a smile, or else this swindler may find a way to trap you in debt. Azul insists you tell him more of your home and your lucrative ideas. Here, a contract, where he shall sell your ideas as goods and you shall reap the rewards! Whatever hearsay you've heard painting him in a bad light, is defamation! Don't fall for it so easily.

Sailing away from Octavinelle would just be a fool's quest. Unless you can escape on a boat that can weather the harshest of sea storms, there is no stepping foot off the island without the risk of drowning. Don't you have more profitable ideas to share with the hydro deity? If not, just listening to your voice would make Azul content than all the gold in the world could.

SCARABIA

Rolling sand dunes stretch as far as the eye could see, and rocky canyons border a savanna. Sandstorms fill the skies like a dark cloud, covering the dry hot land in a new layer of sand once again. Struggle through the scorching days and blistering cold nights, and there will be an oasis in the center between large flowing rivers.

Life follows the flowing waters, and an enormous oasis is planted in the center of the desert. For miles and miles along the banks, are blooming cities and towns. A great contrast to the desert outside, these settlements are overflowing with water, with the greenest gardens and greatest crops.

A god, an archon, the deity of commerce that gave life to a once barren land.

Thousands of years ago, a terrible famine struck the land. All remaining oasis had shriveled up, leading to starvation. A kind-hearted deity of earth took pity on the people. So he decided to extend a helping hand. People would call the deity Kalim.

Kalim used his abilities to create a lush environment, a vast and incredibly rich oasis out of sand in the middle of the desert. When he walked, grass and flowers sprouted from the sand. In days, he managed to create a garden of tremendous size and design, where his new followers could live in peace and luxury by the rivers. Towns and cities were developed, giving way to a grand nation where he resided in comfort and extravagance, surrounded by people that adored him.

Now there is a grand metropolis where there is just as much gold in the markets as there are flowers. The god of dendro, Kalim, is naive. For thousands of years he has been sheltered and treasured by his people. He is oblivious and clumsy, but at the same time he is not foolish. He knows of the people that have attempted to use his abilities for sinister purposes. Although, no one could guess a conniving being plotting against him, resides in his very own palace.

Exciting adventures and thrilling tales, the god of commerce loves to hear your stories of the outside world! First time foreigners are welcomed with open arms, but you are treated as a rare guest with your unique origin. This might just be the most peaceful land you had ever traveled to.

Come, partake in the celebrations! It's easy to forget that such a laidback and cheerful personality belongs to that of a deity that gave life to this region of the desert. Dance, chat, he wishes to do it all with you! The brightness of the fireworks and lively atmosphere is nearly enough to drown out the presence in the shadows you see from the corner of your eyes. A figure with a piercing gaze, watching the jolly divine being with envy in their eyes. With a power as tempting as his, there would be those wishing to snatch it. Kalim distracts you, offering more food and drink with a smile sweeter than any flower.

Why would anyone ever wish to leave this garden that was Scarabia? The outside, the desert and canyons, were harsh and unforgiving. The god of commerce did not wish to see you risk traveling and getting hurt. The dendro deity invites you to stay in the city! Surely you could be happy here with Kalim, right?

POMEFIORE

On elevated lands, between mountains and hills, were endless forests in which travelers often vanished in or were discovered frozen. A winter wonderland, although this wasn't so delightful. It was beautiful, but a deadly kind of beautiful, where you risked being chased by mysterious beasts or becoming lost in blizzards.

The snow may be pure, it may look picturesque upon frozen lakes and lines of white trees, but looks are deceiving. This was once a serene land with a temperate climate, but it has only gotten colder and colder in more recent months until there was not a single spot of green to be seen.

A god, an archon, the deity of curses who was so bitter like the cold that he caused snow to fall all year round.

Stories have told that the land was once warm in springs and summers, only growing cold whenever the divine being was cross. They were frighteningly beautiful and terrifyingly powerful, regal as royalty but at times wrathful. Vil, is what the deity was referred to.

Vil became envious of an emerging figure, so he invoked powerful blizzards and storms. In recent generations, there have been a growing number of his people breaking off into a separate faction that worshipped a younger compassionate god of healing. Enraged by the betrayal of some followers and resentful with biting jealously, many knew that it was only a matter of time before he would snap. This frightening divine being would not accept being dethroned, he would not allow himself to be demoted in the people's hearts.

Civilization continued to thrive, even despite the never-ending snow. And yet, people cannot help but worry what may happen if the cold doesn't let up by spring. The god of cryo, Vil, was pretentious. Anyone who openly voices their distaste for him or a preference for the god of healing, can expect to be encased in ice and used as a display. No one dares to even utter the name of his rival, for fear of incurring his wrath.

Misfortune brought you before the god of curses' throne. Mistakingly his followers had believed you to be worshippers of the god of healing, which you insisted not to know of. You had simply been lost. Maybe it was your gawking at his ethereal appearance, or the compliment you murmured under your breath, but you were not frozen a punishment.

He decided to interrogate you himself, and through his stern questioning you found yourself a nervous mess as you answered honestly but blabbered far too much. Maybe this deity was amused, much like a king would find humor in a pathetic little jester. The divinity that froze nonbelievers into statues for his palace, found you quite endearing. Vil even once smiled at you when you spoke of inconsequential things, warming his heart to which the clouds carrying snow broke apart if for a moment, causing his followers to go into a frenzy fueled by hope.

When leaving Pomefiore is so much as even mentioned, all exits will be frozen shut by the god of curses. Why even venture outside the palace, when you have earned the favor of the cryo deity? Perhaps the land is warmer, but the neighboring nation is dangerous and he forbids the journey. Why would anyone leave after finally melting Vil's icy cold heart?

IGNIHYDE

A forest of dead trees serves as an ominous welcome, or perhaps it was an omen warning incoming travelers. Slopes gave way to valleys, and along the coasts was a heavy mist that painted the vision gray. Homes and buildings, magnificent temples and crumbling feats of architecture, appeared to be floating in white clouds, but in reality they were situated on cliffsides thick with fog.

In the center of the dying forest, there are ruins of a grand temple once belonging to a god that met a tragic end. However, its remnants are closely guarded by mysterious creatures of air that cannot be touched. Legends say the temple was once a place of worship for a fledgling god related to the main god the nation worships today.

A god, an archon, the deity of innovation that has never once shown his face to the public.

Thousands of years ago, a pair of divine beings appeared. They went largely unnoticed for many years, until their brilliant inventions brought awe to those around them, attracting worshippers and diminishing the power of other local gods. The one remaining brother from this pair, is a deity known as Idia.

Idia created wondrous inventions, unintentionally forming a nation of inventors in the process. Withdrawn, dark, and silent, he is quite the unconventional god and yet he begrudgingly rules nonetheless. As reserved as he may be, he is feared among divinity. All lesser gods aiming for his spot are quickly wiped out by his inventions, without him so much as lifting a finger and using his own abilities. They're reduced to mere memories, as nothing is left of them. In times of old, it was once believed that he was a harbinger of death.

On decent days, the sun may shine on the coast, but most days there are heavy clouds and fog. The god of anemo, Idia, is an enigma. Most think him a ghost, for never appearing and for his abilities. The highest families, the most brilliant inventors, even other divine beings may request an audience, but he will never show. No one has ever seen him, all that's known is he is a figure shrouded in black robes like a grim reaper. There are others who believe there are double, because two figures have been spotted once.

You become the first to see his face purely by accident. It seemed he was just as startled of you, as you were of him. Thankfully, you were not going to be blown off the face of the planet by hurricane-level winds. No other god would help, in fact, they wished to keep you here. So you had to turn to him for assistance in finding a way home.

It was only by promising that he could pet Grim, a deal to which the feline disagreed to, did the god reluctantly hear you out. After your explanation, he scoffed as if looking at a simple equation like 2 + 2. Of course he knew the answer, but he wouldn't give out the assistance you needed. The deal was to hear you out, not help you out. He'd become quite bold in the private conversation, a sharp contrast to his previous anxious demeanor. There was no arguing against he who could slaughter gods with a snap of his fingers. Although you aren't as intolerable as other mortals, this he admits.

Departing from Ignihyde is highly unlikely, given how dense the fog is. You cannot even see the ground you're walking on. While, yes, the anemo deity hasn't assisted you, he will, eventually, probably, maybe... You're the first mortal Idia has ever asked to stay, so why would you turn your back to him?

DIASOMNIA

A wall of impenetrable thorns stands in the way, magically opening and creating a clear-cut path through dense forbidding forests lively with critters. The thorn walls close, effectively trapping you. There was something different. It was unlike all the previous nations, the very air itself felt off. With every step deeper into these whimsical woods, it felt as if you were not alone.

Once upon a time, there was a dragon. No one knows how long the dragon has been alive, only that even the oldest tales say he was already ancient way back when. Valleys were shaped by his claws, the rivers from his tail, rare ore came from his fallen scales buried in the earth, the tallest mountains were but small hills to him.

A god, an archon, the deity of dreams is by far the most powerful and most ancient of all divinity in the world.

Peace was his personal preference, as he enjoyed new company which he never truly received due to his fearsome reputation. However, when other divinity sought out his destruction and his home, the deity of electricity raged. Destruction was left in his wake across the entire globe, and everyone came to know the name Malleus.

Malleus commanded thorns to be raised like walls protecting his home, and constant violent storms to ward off anyone threatening to cause trouble. For hundreds of years, no foreigner was allowed to step foot within the nation's boundaries. Anyone that tried would quickly be reduced to ash, and just a number added to the untold amount he's slayed in order to protect himself and his territory. Kind he may be to his own, but to foes he is merciless. With his black horns and piercing eyes, some refer to him as a devil incarnate.

A land unseen by outlanders, it's peaceful and magical in it's beauty. However, it seems that while your presence may be surprising, it is not a shock. You're taken by knights in gray and black, escorted away. The god of electro, Malleus, has invited you to his castle. There is astonishment and disbelief in people's eyes, a foreigner alive and well. Most like you would have been reduced to particles before they could even step foot past the thorns.

Much to your horror, or relief, once you're brought to the god of dreams, he seems delighted to have you here. It seems your presence was expected, as all he said was, "So you've finally come to see me, hm? I was beginning to grow concerned that perhaps I would have been left out of your list of destinations."

This was the last option, the only one you could turn to in finding a way home. Surely, the most ancient and powerful deity would hold the answer and assist you, since he had been so kind as to allow you inside his nation. Although as welcoming as he may be, you must remember that despite his fang-toothed smile and the twinkle in his eyes, this man– no, god, was archaic and all-powerful. He must have killed more people than you will ever know, wiped out whole armies and flattened entire nations. Malleus tilts his head at you, requesting that you recount your tale, with every minute detail.

This will be the end, there will be no escaping Diasomnia. Of course, you shall not know until later. For now, the god of dreams delights in your stories. You were the first guest he's had in thousands of years, and one of the few who did not wish to slay the legendary dragon that was the electro deity. Malleus knows what you desire, he has seen it in your dreams. However, he will not be kind and grant you what you sought. If he did, then what he desired would then vanish: you.

[freyito]

ɢᴏᴛᴛᴀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴʏᴛɪᴍᴇ

✭ pairing(s): calcharo x gn reader

✩ inspo: I'd Have You Anytime by George Harrison

★ summary: You decide your boyfriend is being too moody.

✧ a/n: I WANNA SAY THANK YOU ALL FOR SUCH THE KIND WORDS AUGHHH I'VE BEEN KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY TwT... i've got some little event cookin up for 700 followers, don't you worry...

BUT ANYWAYS i've been chipping away at wuthering waves... it's pretty fun !! kuro games also just make banger. games. so... the character designs are sooo yummmyyyy and of course i had to write a little fic for my (second) favorite... sephir-- i mean calcharo.

🗒 cw: gn reader, short n sweet, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 781

Calcharo’s not necessarily the most affectionate boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. You are the stars that pepper the sky, the calm and wholeness of a stream running within a foggy forest, the night that beckons him into comforting arms. You are his everything. And he is, unfortunately, not the best at expressing that. But he is loyal.

He tends to hide within himself, too spun up in his own thoughts to pay more attention to the world. Not that he isn’t hyper-aware of his surroundings, he has to stay alert, after all. But he tends to stress himself out quite a bit like this, worried about the Ghost Hounds, those he had sworn to protect, and so forth. It seems the only time those worries fade away is when he’s in your arms. You’ve started to notice a slight slump in his shoulders, how his face relaxes into more of a neutral expression rather than a frown, and even how his voice sounds a tad… lighter.

Today, he is rather moody, choosing to brood and pace around the house, worrying about menial things. The pacing is a little annoying, but every time he lets out a sigh or a frustrated grumble, you can’t help but feel your heart twist. There isn’t much you can do, you know that, and the man will always have his worries. It is human nature to worry, and perhaps Calcharo is more human than he likes to think.

He opens his mouth to protest again, perhaps question you as to why you’re so determined, but you shut him up real quick, cupping his cheek and pressing a quite tender kiss to his lips. That shuts his mind up quick, you can tell by the way his stern demeanor melts away, returning the kiss after a couple seconds.

When you break apart, his eyes have softened, and his body relaxes once more. He lets out a soft sigh as if this is what he had been waiting for all along. You aren’t quite satisfied with your work, though. It’s been too long since you’ve had time with Calcharo in general, so why not revel in it?

You press a kiss to his nose bridge first, lips lingering for a second longer before pressing another to his cheek, then his forehead, then wherever you can kiss him. He doesn’t move or complain or push you away, simply closes his eyes and lets a soft blush dust his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It’s such a rare sight to see this man blush, and the fact that he isn’t doing whatever he can to hide it from you is impressive.

You continue your torrent of kisses, leaving no span of skin unkissed, untouched. He lets out a low rumbling sound and a scoff, which is close enough to a laugh you can get it, and you don’t mind. Not one bit. He has no idea what to do with his hands for the next minute or so, placing them on your hips at first but then ghosts over your ribs. For once he feels… awkward. He’s barely used to you making advances, not that he necessarily leaves room for them. Given his reserved nature, he had done most of the leading in the relationship. You thought it would’ve been best to go at his pace, after all. But he had never felt awkward during these years with you.

You finally stop kissing him, pulling away to look down at him. He’s still blushing, hair just a little more disheveled than usual, and the possibility of a smile tugging at his lips. A rare sight indeed, you oughta pat yourself on the back for doing that to him.

“Too much?” You ask, your voice cracking with mirth as your hands settle on his shoulders.

“... Not enough.” Calcharo responds bluntly, despite the slight wavering tone in his voice.

The man finally understands what to do with his hands, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you down on top of him. You are practically nose-to-nose with him, and can’t help but giggle, which he responds in kind with a soft huff.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[yandere-toons]

Matthew Patel

Romantic Headcanons - Yandere

WARNING: violence, death, implied stalking, mentions of religious concepts, toxic mindset.

From the moment you invite Matthew into your life, he will carry that memory to his deathbed. The bond you forged that day is unbreakable and immortal for him: he will go blind to all other reasons for living, consumed with rage at your absence, and ecstatic at any sign of your favour.

Talk of other suitors sends Matthew into a frenzy from which he will not emerge until this obstacle to his happiness is laid low. Dispute over the value of certain traits leaves Matthew resentful—of himself for not being better, of the other person for possessing what he lacks, and of the universe for cursing him with such horrid luck.

When such a person speaks your name, Matthew is driven by his own insecurities to loathe them. The sound of their voice becomes like a cheese grater to his ears, a reminder of how close he is to losing his world for the second time, and from thence into a sound he will fight to the death to silence.

The look of this person, particularly when they light up at the mere mention of you and receive such a look in kind, is a ghastly thing. Matthew's takeaway is one of doubt and bad memories, of all the similarities to Ramona's waning interest that he had been too immature and inattentive to rectify. He vows not to make the same mistake twice.

Seemingly overnight, Matthew transforms from a brooding presence lurking in your shadow to a wellspring of offers to solve even the smallest of issues. He makes a habit of dropping to one knee and delivering a Pagliacci-esque soliloquy about how deep his affection runs, professing that you've become his whole world and that to lose you would leave him with nothing.

Despite your promise not to "betray" him, as Matthew so graciously puts it, he fears it would be a mistake to let his guard down. He believes you were sincere at the time, but Ramona's flippant attitude has left him anxious that you may change your tune and turn your back on him for no apparent reason.

For years, Matthew sought answers as to why she hurt him: on bad days, he blames her for playing with his emotions; on worse days, he blames himself for not trying hard enough to become someone she wanted. Now that he has another shot at human connection, this earth will burn before it slips away from him.

Matthew's actions arise from a peculiar sense of justice: he views himself as retribution sent down upon all those who have wronged you. By daring to replace him, their way of looking after you is inherently and unforgivably flawed. Someone who could, in reality, be quite decent will devolve in his mind into a parasite who takes advantage of you.

Whether they are cruel or kind-hearted, what obsesses Matthew and keeps him stewing for potentially years is the notion that they've robbed him of his one chance at happiness. So long as they keep you company, he sees his future darkening.

What should be a private affair, Matthew turns into a spectacle: he takes to the stage in his most flamboyant attire and declares war, goading his enemy to meet their doom at his hand. Everything, from the venue to the battle itself, is a power play, a performance art in which he displays his prowess for all to admire and envy.

Once he has struck the first blow, there is no version of events where Matthew shows mercy or admits defeat. The harder they fight, the prouder he is to butcher them. Their death will be a triumph, a testament to the fact that he is strong enough to win this war. Anyone who rolls over in the face of his challenge must not be truly committed to you and therefore deserves to feel his wrath for stringing you along.

Coming to over the shiny remains of his enemy, Matthew forgets his rage and revells in the thought of having the sole being who brings him happiness. Ready to pick up where he left off and confident he's earned that right, Matthew throws himself at you and proclaims how thrilled he is to be together again.

Matthew struggles to move beyond the past and to envision a future where he is alone. Having spent much of his life pursuing others, Matthew has no concept of living for himself. He stakes his survival on the volume of applause at the end of every performance, and in the home environment, his tendency to cling to petty recognition has taken root in all interactions.

This emotional hunger reveals itself in the unnecessary extremes to which Matthew proves his devotion, convinced that the obsequious nature of his company and continual sacrifices gives them meaning. He jumps at every opportunity to be near you, no exceptions, afraid that missing even one will be termed neglect and spell the ruin of his life with you.

At his best, Matthew is an unrelenting thespian who serenades you with ballads and calligraphic poetry. But at his worst, he is an unstable and violent creature full of pent-up rage, who conspires with Daemonettes to bind your soul to his, making it virtually impossible to give him up for another.

[homelanderbutbig]

Perfect Just The Way You Are (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1910 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

Homelander needs some serious TLC, even if he can't properly fit inside your house.

It's late in the evening, a quiet one for you. You're alone in your own house, eyes glued to your phone while you plod away mindlessly in the kitchen.

Today is Homelander's birthday, or at least the day Vought has chosen for him. He's made remarks about how it's not his real birthday, but you've never been able to get him to tell you much more than that.

He's been out all day, flying throughout the city for the schedule Vought laid out for him. Doing meet-and-greets, photoshoots, interviews, staged saves, the whole shebang. And his revelries conclude with a televised event celebrating his birthday. Since your relationship with him is still a secret, you weren't able to join him in the festivities. You promised you'd be watching the event, cheering your boyfriend on the whole time. But as the night progresses, you begin to discern the way his smile seems a tad too forced, his restless eyes betraying the cheery grin plastered across his face. You imagine as much as he likes it, being paraded around for hours with no breaks would be draining for even a normal man.

He's talked to you before about his mixed feelings towards the public; on one hand, he revels in the adoration his fans shower him in. He lives and breathes for praise, it's all he's ever known. And yet, he is always acutely aware of their fear in his presence. Everyone he meets is significantly shorter than him, even those who would be considered 'tall' by human standards.

And these feelings are amplified on his birthday, where he is forced to face his insecurities on live television. With the world's eyes solely on him, dissecting him.

On his inhuman size.

"Thanks for watching everyone, goodnight! God bless America!" Homelander salutes the audience, as the event concludes with uproarious applause. You can't help but grin at his showmanship, he just has such a way with crowds. As the event switches to listing its various sponsors, you turn your phone off and wonder what to do next. Should you call him? Catch a taxi back to Vought Tower?

Suddenly, your questions are answered as you hear the recognizable sound of Homelander touching down. Opening the front door, you see him standing on your lawn, dimly lit by the streetlights behind his form. His face is a bit hard to make out in the dark, but it's pretty obvious even from his body language that he is incredibly stressed. With his birthday finally over, the weight of the day is crashing down on him. All he wants now is to be alone with you, to have your undivided love and attention.

However, as much as you want to invite him in, you realize his height is a couple feet taller than your front door and his shoulders are quite a bit wider than the door frame. He wouldn't be able to shimmy his way in without destroying your entrance and attracting nosy neighbours. Luckily, you're quick to think of another solution.

"Follow me honey," you say, closing the door and making your way to your patio entrance nearby the kitchen. It's a sliding door, which while the same height, is twice the width. He meets you there as you open the two panels for him, giving him a wide enough entrance to crawl through. A bit undignified for the leader of The Seven, to crawl on his hands and knees like a child, but he desperately needs to be with you in this moment.

Once inside, he nestles himself into the corner of your kitchen, sitting on the floor with his arms wrapped around his knees, a futile attempt to make himself smaller. It's as comfortable as he's going to get, in a space so tiny… in a normal space.

Usually, he does everything in his power to avoid going into buildings not accommodated for his height. Vought Tower was specifically designed to fit him, but the rest of the world is not. Even when he was younger in the lab, he had to bend down when he grew too tall to avoid the shorter ceilings. He always hated that, the constant reminder of his monstrous nature and how he will never be 'normal'.

And now here he is again, the claustrophobia creeping up his spine as he has to come to terms with his size. Your cramped kitchen might be fine for you, but he can't even stand up in here without breaking something.

After one last look outside to make sure nobody saw Homelander sneaking into your home, you lock the patio door and saunter over to the kitchen to see how your boyfriend is handling everything. And to be honest, you're not surprised to see him huddled in a corner dissociating. The two of you have never went anywhere else other than his penthouse, the sole place on earth built for him. You can't imagine what it's like to live an existence where everything is too small for you.

"Hey baby boy," you console him, snapping his attention back to you once you place your hand on his arm. "What's the matter?"

"I-I…" he stammers, swallowing hard as he fights back tears. He laments having to express his true feelings, admitting his faults. "I-I'm too big…"

You give him an understanding smile. It was bad enough that he had to endure his birthday being put on display for the world to gawk at him, now he has to curl up in a room not made for him just to be in your proximity.

"No you're not sweetheart. You're perfect just the way you are. If nobody else can see that, it's their loss," you reassure him, moving closer to his side to give his big head a hug. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, allowing your fingers to scratch at his undercut. He hesitates at first, but he rapidly relaxes into your affections. He inhales deep through his nose as he leans further into your chest; your scent and your heartbeat do wonders for his nerves.

Pulling away from him, you cup his cheek with your hand, feeling him gently rub into your palm. His expression is still exhausted, but his eyes shimmer with an unspoken appreciation to your compassion. You're the only one who makes him feel this way, the only person who truly cares for him and sees him for something more than just a giant freak.

"I baked you a cake, for your birthday," you explain. "But you can't have dessert until you have a proper dinner. Let me make you something quick, okay?"

Homelander watches silently as you scurry around the kitchen, filling a large pot with 3 litres of water and taking out three packets of Lipton chicken noodle soup mix from your cupboard. He knows you're just trying to be considerate, making sure he has enough to eat, but he can't help but tense his jaw knowing he can consume so much more than you. Just another reminder of how different he is from everyone else.

"This'll only take five minutes," you tell him, seeing him give you a brief nod before you turn back to keep an eye on the soup.

With you preoccupied, he decides to use his X-ray vision to look around the rest of your abode. It's not a shock to him that a simple human like yourself would operate under such a state of disarray; no place is complete without a stack of unread books, coffee cups left behind from days prior, and clothing thrown haphazardly on the ground. The way you live is a total juxtaposition to the order and neatness of his penthouse and by proxy his life. It's almost comical how he puts up with you. But at the same time, it's the mess that makes you human. He had that aspect beaten out of him as a child. He had to be 'perfect' as the world's greatest superhero, as Vought's poster boy. He was never allowed any opportunity to be anything else.

"Here you go," you abruptly pull him out of his thoughts, handing him the pot of soup with your oven mitts on. He grasps it without much thought, the heat from the stove not affecting him in the slightest. Ogling the strange concoction for a moment, he lifts the pot up to his mouth and quickly gulps down the soup. Its taste is peculiar, clearly manufactured… but somehow oddly comforting.

"Okay, now that you've eaten…" you begin, taking the pot back and leaving it in the sink. "Now it's time for dessert!"

He continues watching while you pull the cake out from your fridge. With a knife you cut two pieces and carry both plates over to where he sits, handing him the larger slice. It's a pretty plain cake considering the fancy affairs he's attended, but you made this for nobody else, it's purely for him. You poured your heart and soul into the batter, to express your love for him through food. Something nobody's ever done for him before, cooking for him not out of necessity but out of kindness.

"You can eat it hun, it doesn't taste that bad," you chuckle as you see him staring blankly at the cake. In the minute he's been eyeballing the dessert, you already finished yours. He blushes once he realizes he's just been contemplating the meaning it instead of eating it. Shaking off the awkwardness he picks up the piece of cake and fits the entire slice into his mouth. His tongue dances at the sweet taste, enraptured in a way he's never experienced. Sure, he's eaten cake before, but this is different. This was made special for his birthday.

You take the plate from him, putting the dishes into the sink before walking back over to him. He seems to be a lot calmer now, compared to when he first landed on your lawn.

"Happy birthday Homelander," you remark, kissing him. You feel him melt even further into your lips, placing one of his massive hands on your back. His fingers are strong, pulling you ever so closer to him, but still delicate enough that you feel safe with him. And that's all you've ever wanted, for him to be secure with his size around you, because you trust him. After you break from your kiss, you keep your forehead up against his. "How about we fly back to the penthouse and sleep together, huh? You can cuddle in my arms tonight."

"Hmmm… yeah. I'd like that," he hums happily, never one to pass up an opportunity to snuggle with you. "But… in a minute. I just… I just want to spend a little more time here."

It's a bizarre sensation to admit to. When he first entered your home he dreaded how miniscule it was compared to his size, but the longer he's been in here, those feelings switched entirely. He's come to notice the familiar scent of you permeating the walls, the way you've decorated each room with distinct keepsakes, how you've made this place an extension of yourself. A part of him never wants this moment to end, he wants to explore every inch of this house. Rummage through your knick knacks, flip through your photo albums, bury himself in your blankets.

He hopes sometime in the future, he can return here. And you can show him it all.

[coochellati]

Bruno Bucciarati: The Perfect Dominant

Have you ever imagined what it would be like to get dommed by Bruno Bucciarati?

Whether you’ve thought about it or not, take a moment to picture it.

Bruno is:

Confident.

Authoritative.

Assertive.

Empathetic.

…Isn’t it perfect?

It makes sense a leader like Bruno would naturally gravitate toward a more dominant role. Not to mention, his career has given him plenty of practice.

But it gets better. Bruno isn’t just someone who can play the part—he’s uniquely equipped with talents that make him second to none at bedroom dominance.

Keep reading for an in-depth analysis (with headcanons!) on why our beloved Zipper Daddy would be the dom of your dreams!

(If it wasn’t clear already—this is definitely 18+)

Bruno: The Sadistic Side

Before diving in, let’s clarify: not every dom is a sadist. However, I headcanon Bruno as one.

Even though this was (very much) not intended, Hirohiko Araki has made it clear that Bruno is quite capable of donning the mindset needed for this role.

Well, not only is Bruno “quite capable”—he’s a goddamn professional.

When interrogating Giorno, Bruno effortlessly adopts the role of a cold, ruthless interrogator. There’s a calculated cruelty in his actions as if he’s playing a game rather than conducting torture.

This isn’t surprising. Intimidation is part of his job, and years of experience have made Bruno exceptionally skilled at it.

In the bedroom, that sadistic edge translates to Bruno reveling in his partner’s reactions. He thrives on his partner’s surrender, growing more intoxicated as his dominance intensifies. (He may even make his partner call him by his last name as a way to “respect” his authority.) Bruno’s self-restraint would quickly slip away, no doubt this making lasting a challenging task for him.

The Human Lie Detector

Bruno Bucciarati is no ordinary dom. His unique skill set makes him exceptional— nobody possesses a toolkit quite like his.

No, I don’t mean “toolkit” like that—(heh.)

I’m talking about the range of enthralling tricks he has up his sleeve!

The self-proclaimed human lie detector can discern a liar using multiple methods, one such being his keen ability to read body language.

It’s clear he’s fluent in non-verbal communication—In the interrogation scene with Giorno, Bruno knew Giorno was lying before resorting to more… unconventional methods. After all, would he have placed Luca’s eye into an innocent person’s hand? (Which of course happened before Bruno licked him.)

And speaking of unconventional methods—yes, we have to talk about the sweat thing. ;)

Bruno’s ability to detect lies by taste is, let’s say, niche. The fact that he so casually licked Giorno implies it’s not his first time using this technique.

Maybe I’m a freak, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say that the thought of Bruno dragging his tongue against my skin by really fucking hot. (I know I’m not the only person who feels this way—after all, you chose to read this…) Hoo boy—especially when you remember that your face isn’t the only body part that sweats.

(And according to MatPat, your face isn’t even the best part of your body to sample stress sweat from—It’s, uh… in other places. 😉)

Endowed with a sharp mind, Bruno has no trouble finding kinky uses for his lie detection, and because he’s skilled at torture, he knows just how to discipline a filthy liar. ;)

Here’s an excerpt from a drabble I wrote imagining how this scenario might go down:

He chuckles softly again and fixes his gaze on you, akin to that of a hungry predator. "Perfect," he purrs. "And of course, there'll be consequences if you're anything less than entirely truthful."

You feel your cheeks growing warm. "What kind of consequences?"

"I haven't decided yet," he wickedly smiles, the dancing spark in his eyes having ignited into a blazing flame. "It'll depend on the severity of your lie." 

A surge of adrenaline floods your veins, quickening your heartbeat. The bed shifts slightly as Bruno leans in dizzyingly close, stopping when his face is but an inch from yours.

"How does that make you feel?" he teases, his voice lowering to a seductive murmur. His warm breath kisses your skin. "Does this excite you?"

(read the full drabble here)

Kinky Fingers: The Ultimate Dom Tool

No discussion of Bruno’s dom potential is complete without addressing the elephant in the room:

That’s right! It’s his stand, 「Sticky Fingers.」

…Are you aware of how fucking much you can do with this stand ability? (Or how much fucking you can do!! ahahaha!!!… I’ll see myself out…)

No, really—I cannot emphasize enough how large the bedroom the potential is on this one. His stand opens up an entirely new realm of possibilities.

As you know, Sticky Fingers creates zippers on any surface it touches, allowing Bruno to attach, detach, and reconfigure objects (and people). We’ve already seen him use it to “restrain” Mario Zucchero by unzipping his head from his body.

Now think about how this ability translates to bondage.

Who needs ropes or cuffs when you can create custom restraints with zippers? Whether it’s immobilizing you to a surface, hogtying you with a flick of his wrist, or inventing entirely new ways to keep you at his mercy—Bruno’s creativity is unmatched.

And it doesn’t stop there. Sticky Fingers—I mean, Kinky Fingers—opens the door to a genre of kink that only Bruno could offer: zipper play.

With absolute control over his stand, Bruno could tease, restrain, or overwhelm his partner in ways that are impossible for anyone else. Once those zippers appear, no one else can remove them—your submission would be entirely his.

And now, I am proud to present a list of many kinky uses for Sticky Fingers:

Wouldn’t it be crazy to have your head zipped off only for your mouth to be used as a fleshlight? (Can you even begin to imagine that?)

My personal favorite use would have to be how he can disassemble your entire body… and then do whatever the fuck he wants. ;)

Again, maybe I’m a freak—but it sounds hot!

(I’ve also written an entire one shot about this, so if you’re interested in it, here’s the link! It’s kind of long and jam-packed with lots of Kinky Fingers action.)

Empathy and Non-Verbal Communication

Bruno Bucciarati isn’t just a skilled dom—what truly sets him apart is his empathy and attentiveness to his partner.

Being a good dom isn’t just about playing the role or mastering techniques; it’s about understanding and prioritizing your partner’s needs.

A great dom has the emotional awareness to recognize what their partner wants and ensures the experience is enjoyable for both parties—because if it’s not fun for both, it’s not fun at all.

Empathy is central to Bruno’s character. It’s his greatest strength and, at times, his greatest vulnerability. Without it, he simply wouldn’t be Bruno.

This deep empathy is perfectly complemented by his ability to read non-verbal communication—another crucial skill for a dom. You can’t create a fulfilling experience without understanding what your partner feels, even when they don’t say it aloud.

As discussed earlier, Bruno’s “human lie detector” instincts rely on sharp observation, especially his talent for reading body language.

Imagine how this skill would translate to the bedroom. Bruno would pick up on every subtle cue—every shift, hesitation, or unspoken need. Whether it’s meeting his partner’s desire or teasing out their secrets, this man would masterfully ensure the experience is as intense as it is unforgettable.

As you know, Bruno Bucciarati isn’t just any dom. His empathy, authority, and one-of-a-kind abilities make him an unmatched partner in both leadership and intimacy. Whether it’s through his sharp intuition or the limitless potential of Sticky Fingers, Bruno’s dominance would leave you both exhilarated and utterly spent.

Zipper Daddy supremacy.

Thank you for reading. I hope that my sermon has enlightened you. 💕

P.S. Thank you to @moody-bloos for suggesting this! I know this wasn’t probably what you had in mind, but since I am so incredibly passionate about this topic I wanted to go above and beyond…

The only thing I like more than sub Bruno is dom Bruno.

[sepublic]

            King really has a whole thing about being seen as a toy, a pet, for people to own and play with without his permission. An object to look nice and pretty and not much else, without any wants or needs of his own.

         So it feels very poetic that he constantly surrounds himself with toys and plushes to command over; King’s whole Tyrant schtick isn’t just a fantasy for him, it’s a way for him to reclaim lost autonomy by exercising his own control. It’s as if King FEELS like a toy, so he commands other toys because he’s essentially one of them. And it reflects on his juvenile nature, not being taken seriously, the revelation that it’s only ever been pretend, etc.

         That makes King’s relationship with Francois very sweet, as a toy from the human world he finds, no thanks to Luz helping him. Luz is someone whose physical cuddling and affections King DOES appreciate, because by the end of the day, Luz respects King as a person and his boundaries. King wants affection actually, but he wants it on his own terms, and there’s a lot of moments where he ‘commands’ Luz and she happily obliges, defends him, etc. Luz is very thoughtful of King’s feelings, and The Intruder is a major episode in which Luz learns to be more mindful of King in general; This of course wins the approval of his father the Titan, who decides to show Luz the light glyph for her kindness.

         But anyhow, King loves Francois and treats him kindly, often as a partner and even equal. So with all I’ve said about King’s toy motif, that transitions perfectly into his dynamic with the Collector. There’s the fact that in their initial interactions, the Collector glomps onto a clearly uncomfortable King, like a child with a pet he doesn’t quite understand is a living creature (and in King’s case, not just a pet either but a person). Dana’s own art encapsulates their relationship by portraying King as a terrified plush that the Collector loves;

         The Collector is also juvenile and loves to play pretend, and treats people like toys, which is exemplified by them transforming victims into literal toys, who are dressed up to look even prettier. But for all their issues with boundaries, the Collector seems to genuinely love and value their toys, kind of like King with Francois.

         This contrasts them with Belos, whom they believe breaks his toys out of fun; That speaks to their different desires, hence the Collector insisting they want to make friends out of others, whereas Belos finds it more simple and satisfying to just destroy his enemies. So the Collector regards his toys as, well, toys; But with a sort of loving respect that a kid who takes good care of their toys and makes sure they’re taken care of does. A projection of feelings and personality… Over the actual feelings and personality that DO exist, but alas.

         But that’s where the Collector’s relationship with King develops, because over the course of two months, they begin to respect and listen to King more, value him as a friend, etc. The Collector is more mindful of King’s boundaries, doesn’t immediately glomp onto him, actually bothers to respond to King’s criticisms. When King says the Owl Beast isn’t ready, they listen, and it’s implied the Collector has known about King visiting Eda and Lilith behind their back, but simply allowed it because friends keeping secrets is totally normal, right? And anyhow, King has been so nice, and they love King so much, they don’t want to call him out and ruin things; He can have this.

         Which leads to Francois, whom King relates to; The toy that the Collector WANTS to cuddle with. But King sets the boundaries that it’s for him (and Luz) only, and the Collector actually listens. He doesn’t touch Francois behind King’s back, and aside from a moment where he has to take it from Belos’ grasp to defend Francois, puts it right back where it belongs. He can’t have Francois, but the Collector can settle for having him BE there, so close and yet so far.

         King is Francois; He’s a beloved toy to the Collector that he loves and appreciates, treats more special than the rest, and practically as a person, a lot of the time. But he’s willing to respect Francois’ boundaries and not play with him when he doesn’t want, just as he does with King, and his visits to his mother and aunt. The Collector obviously has a lot to learn when we check up on them two months later, and King understandably still IS frustrated, hence why he calls out the Collector after the nightmare illusions at the beginning of the series finale…

         But King can tell, as a former, unruly child himself, who was only a non-issue because he lacked the power the Collector wields; The Collector is a kid like him. Who’s also learning. Who ultimately means well. And they’ve proven to be rather receptive over these two months; Not quite there, but if you put in the effort to teach and work with them, King is certain it’ll pay off as it did with him.

         The Collector was a tyrant like King, and like King, a lot of this comes after being helpless because of others as well; The Collector was put into the care of the manipulative Archivists, and later trapped by the Titan. The only way to contact them was with a disc, an object, and their word was exploited by Bill so he could lead the Titan Trappers and finish the genocide of the Archivists. If the Grimwalkers were toys to Belos, so was the Collector, for him to hide away from everyone else, as his own, like a twisted Francois. And when he’s done with the Collector, he drops him into the pit with the rest of the discarded toys he loves to break.

         So like King, the Collector being a tyrant isn’t just the result of kids being kids, it’s also a response to their lack of agency. And tbh, kids in general lack agency, hence why they can be quite unruly troublemakers and rebels, so it makes sense that the Collector also overcompensates, like King does! But both of them learn to be more mindful of boundaries, that their own pain doesn’t justify them doing the same to others, either.

         The Collector notes that King isn’t the only person allowed to touch Francois; There’s also Luz. Luz, the kindly older sister who always listened to King and was attentive to his needs, respected him, and was often desired for physical affection. The Collector wants to BE Luz since King admires her so much, hence emulating her while playing Owl House; And Luz also recognizes their similarities, with the forgiveness she gives the Collector, being a form of forgiveness towards herself for being an ‘unruly’ child.

         And the Collector also grows, has their loss of innocence, but nevertheless matures, as Luz did. They learn about death, just as Luz learned about death when she lost her father; And the Collector technically loses the Titan that night, who was arguably a turbulent father figure who failed them, too, and laments this fact to Luz. The Collector IS Luz, and like Luz in The Intruder, who gains the approval of the Titan with a light glyph, just as the Titan apologizes for the Collector and lends his power to protect them and others…

         The Collector mends their friendship with King and makes it real. They respect and listen to him completely now. And so they get to finally be Luz, not just in their relationship with her, but also in their relationship with King, being allowed to love Francois, even being given him for company by King. Just as Luz is allowed to be King’s friend, and he follows her regularly, even sacrificing himself for her at the end of Season 2.

        King and the Collector are toys who want toys to reverse that dynamic; But in the end, nobody can be a toy. And so they grow up and get to play with actual friends, and be friends to others.

[ford-pines-lover]

Delicate

Isn't it... Delicate?

Wild that we completed at the same time! Here's Delicate @chillinglyadventurous! This one is so fun :)

Tags: SFW, drinking

Stanford Pines x Reader

This ain't for the best; my reputation’s never been worse so…

“Come on, Poindexter! This is your chance to meet the ladies!”

“Stanley, no, there’s no need for me to go find a ‘lady’ when I have everything I need right here.” Which wasn’t particularly true. Ford would have rather to have someone to share moments with. Either of the platonic or intimate kind. He had always had a sense of loneliness that had set in after coming back from the portal. Ford felt like he wasn’t needed for some big expedition anymore, so what was left? There was no ‘finding the secrets of Gravity Falls;’ there was no ‘end of the world’ anymore that needed saving. Was it time to slow down? No, of course not. He still reveled in his work, his research. But sharing it with someone could be something worthwhile. 

“I know you won’t go out by yourself, and locking yourself in the basement is sad. You don’t even have to meet a lady; you could just sit with me and drink.” Stan gives Ford a defeated look. He hadn’t had his brother in upwards of 40 years (if we don't really count the 30 minutes before the portal incident), and finally he has his chance of being Ford’s wingman. Stan leans against the doorway to Ford’s lab, where there are papers scattered about. 

Ford sighs and gets up from his desk. He doesn’t make any effort to clean up his space. Probably betting on the fact that he will be back sooner rather than later. “Fine, I’ll go with you. No promises though." Secretly, he was hoping to find someone to talk to. Hoping is the key word. 

Stan smiles and walks back up the stairs, getting ready to go out. He was planning to go to a bar, or if they were feeling ballsy, maybe a club? Doubt Ford would be up to that, though. A club is full of lights, people, and loud music. The opposite of the brother he had very narrowly convinced to come with him on this adventure. Although surprising, Stan was optimistic that Ford had agreed. 

A few minutes later, Ford emerges from the basement wearing an outfit similar to what he used to wear in college. Now, since he is 40 years older than college age, he was filling out the clothes quite nicely. It was a pair of khakis, a grey button-up, and a nice sweater vest. It made him look dapper. There was a certain confident glow to the man that is rarely ever seen. 

“Heh, you really clean up nice, don’t ya, Sixer? Tryna impress some ladies?”

“Stop it, Stanley, before I take back my agreeance.” 

Moments later, Stan drives them to the nearest bar. Nothing fancy, but it was a Friday night. There was bound to be many people there. Hopefully someone for Ford to talk to. Ramble about his life that he had lost, or perhaps learn what this new person was like. The idea of human interaction was daunting but exciting. 

They both sat down at the bar, and Stan ordered them both a rum and coke. Just something to start off the evening. It was bustling with people like Ford had imagined. There were groups of people sitting and talking, and there were people that were relatively alone as well. Stan was scanning the room for people to push Ford into talking to. 

“There!” Stan pointed at a lady that had some sort of what seemed to be a fruity drink in her hand. She looked bored, sitting on her phone. 

“Stanley, I can’t just go talk to her,” Ford side-eyed Stan with a hint of embarrassment. 

"Sure, ya can! Just a few more drinks and you’re all set!”

“I—no, I don’t need any more alcohol in my system.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Ford sighed and looked over. “I guess nothing." He got up and walked in your general direction.

“Don’t forget your wallet, Poindexter!” Stan shouted over the music and the chatter of the bar. 

You must like me for me.

Ford sits down across from you. He nervously smiles. “Hi, um, can I sit here with you?”

You give him a confused look, not sure what this older man, silver fox for the matter, would want sitting next to you. He seemed visibly nervous, too.“Um, yeah, sure! Of course!” You fidget with the straw of your drink as he sits down. You were curious about the man sitting by you. This was odd; not usually people decide to talk to you, let alone sit by you, especially at a bar. “I am Y/N” You reach out to shake his hand. He hesitantly took it. You noticed something odd about his hand. You decide not to say anything.

“I am Stanford Pines, but please call me Ford.” He smiles sheepishly. There was something enticing about the man in front of you. It almost seemed like he was full of stories, full of a lifetime, yet he also looked like a brand new man.

“So,” you gave him a curious look, “what’s your deal?” You knew there was something that he was hiding. Men never just come up and talk to you. Unless they want something from you.

Ford looked taken aback by the question. He was for sure not expecting that question. “Excuse me?” 

“Well, I go to this bar often, and no one ever sits by me.” You giggle. “I’ve never seen you here before, so again, what's your deal?” You lean over the table, hands clasped together, under your chin. You smirk at him. Okay, so he doesn’t seem like a creep. Probably isn’t, but you can’t be too careful.

“Well, I am just looking for…” He pauses and thinks about the answer. “Someone to talk to? Human connection perhaps?” 

You give an amused huff at his answer. “Well, I think, Mr. Stanford Pines, that I can give that to you.”

We can’t make any promises; now can we, babe? 

“Actually, it’s Doctor Stanford Pines.” He smiles proudly. There was something in his smile that was faltering, though. His confidence wasn’t sharp.

“Oh ho ho! Mr. Dr. Stanford Pines, eh? Well, for your knowledge, I am also a doctor.” You smirk at him and raise your eyebrow. He laughs and smiles.

“Yes!” He sips his drink, realizing it’s running low. “What kind of doctor are you?”

“The medical kind”

“Yeah? What field exactly?” He studies you as you look off to the side.

“I study gynecology and obstetrics.”

“That’s awesome! I personally study the anomalous beings here in Gravity Falls." He wiggles his fingers to have a “spooky” effect.

“That’s pretty cool, Mr. Dr. Stanford Pines." You give him an honest smile as you notice his now empty drink. 

But you can make me a drink.

You grab his glass and go up to the bar, asking for another drink. You assume he would want a whisky old-fashioned, so you buy him that. You buy yourself another dirty shirley. You return back to the table and hand him his drink.

“Here, I realized your drink was running low, so I bought you a new one.” 

“I—no, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, of course I didn't have to. I wanted to. Big difference, smart guy.”

He laughed and sipped on his new drink. “What is this?”

“A whisky old-fashioned.” 

“It’s pretty good.”

“So, what kind of anomalous things are here in this small town?” You asked sincerely. You had lived there for 6 months and hadn’t noticed any “anamolous” beings in this town. You honestly just lived here for the work. Gravity Falls hospital was hiring; it was a small town, and it was in a state with no sales tax. So hell yeah. 

His face lights up when you ask this question. He pulls out a maroon notebook (journal?) that has gold embossed into it. It looked pretty professional, yet also worn out. “You’re lucky I brought one of my old journals.” He looked to the side, almost embarrassed. “I was really hoping someone would ask about my studies.”

“Well, that’s great!” You prop your elbows back on the table to lean over to him. “I would be more than happy to listen to your tales and adventures.”

Another half an hour goes by with you two chattering away. Ford was explaining how there are things that live deep in the woods that are extraordinary, while some things can be seen while taking a walk around town. You honestly had a new curiosity for this town. This town may have been a place of convenience for a job, but now you have made a new friend. 

“Would you ever like to come mystery hunting with me sometime?” Ford asked.

“I would love to!” You beamed, excited that this guy you had just met an hour ago was already wanting to see you again. 

“Hey, Sixer, it seems you’ve hit it off with a lady." Another older man was standing at the edge of the table, giving you a smirk. “Well, it’s time to go; it’s my bedtime.”

Ford looks over to you and sighs. He scribbles on a piece of his journal, rips it out, and hands it to you. “Here’s my number in case you ever do want to come with me on an adventure.” He winks at you and leaves.

Well. You’re never going to forget about him.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#1: For The Future (S9E03) 🏆🥳🎉

This is the one. 🥹 The number 1. 🏆 My favorite Richonne scene. 😍 And it's quite fitting on TOWL eve to discuss Rick and Michonne's final irl dialogue from TWD. How lovely that Richonne's 'last' day together was this beautiful. 😭

Richonne's relationship illustrates what I've always felt true love should be like. What the characters of Rick and Michonne have is a radiant, vivid, and undeniable soulmate love. It's earned and organic, it's devoted and deep-rooted, it's heartfelt, it's fiery, it's passionately palpable, it's everything. And genuinely, this impeccable scene has it all.

So I adore this moment to infinity and beyond, especially because in this scene, we truly get to see Rick and Michonne revel in Richonne...

What's clear from my Top 5 is I tend to really appreciate scenes where Rick and Michonne talk about Rick and Michonne, and this scene is one of the best examples of that.

Throughout all these posts I’ve expressed the sides of Rick and Michonne's relationship that I adore - when they're doting on each other, desiring each other, leading together, parenting together, relaxed and domestic, fighting the fight, being playful and flirty, being reassuring, being hopeful, happy, honest, human, wise, vulnerable, encouraging, and enchanted by the other. And pretty much all of this was captured in this scene right here.

So while I have no notes for this scene, my extra self still has a lot to gush over and praise. I mean naturally, cuz this is my goated Richonne moment. 🙌🏾😌

I just marvel at how special this ship is for only continuing to top themselves with golden scenes to the point that Richonne's last moving dialogue irl is my all-time favorite moment between them.

And if Richonne just had to be taken from me for 6 years, then this was an excellent scene to hold onto as I patiently waited for their return. (which is tomorrow, can you believe it!? 🤗) And it's also an excellent moment for Rick and Michonne to hold onto as their paths part for years and they fight with everything in them to get back to each other. 👌🏽

The chemistry and connection between Rick and Michonne have always been so profound to me, and they’ve been operating like one for a long long time. And in this scene, you just see every single reason why they are meant for each other and how they're ready to take their oneness to new levels. 🙌🏽🎉

Also in this episode, it feels like this is the one time when Rick, Michonne, Judith, Carl, and RJ are all in some way involved as we officially know Michonne will be pregnant after this. 😭

Ok, so first we gotta talk about the great Grimes Family 2.0 sequence just before because it's attached to this #1 moment for me. The episode starts with Rick waking up in his bed with Michonne asleep, and I love any time we get to see their everyday life side.

I adore the way Rick immediately places his attention on Michonne when she sleepily tosses to the other side. And then seeing that she may be feeling a bit restless, he gently gives her a calming kiss on the shoulder. Such a sweet silent act of love for his wife. 🥰

And I love seeing that Rick wakes up with this instant affection for her, just as Michonne does in the next ep when she wakes up and adoringly kisses him while he sleeps. 🥹

Also, this moment makes me a bit sad cuz it’s the last time Rick and Michonne will wake up together like this for years. 😢 But thank goodness they will hopefully soon have mornings together like this again. 🙌🏾

And then, after showing love to his wife, Rick hears Judith cough and goes to gently check on her as she also is sleeping in a similar position as Michonne. Seeing Rick in this house with his wife and daughter, you just know these are the two he’d do absolutely anything for. Including fighting every day for years to get back to them. 🥲

And then they gotta get my waterworks going when Rick walks down the steps and touches Carl’s handprint. Oh how I wish Carl was asleep in another room for Rick to check on. 😭 But the fact that even tho Carl is gone, Rick still finds meaningful ways to feel connected to him is beautiful and makes it feel like he really managed to have a genuine heartfelt moment with his wife, daughter, and son this morning. The truest family man. 🥰

Then Rick takes a walk in the lush community and it’s just nice seeing him get to really take in how much life is growing around them with all the plants and food sprouting up. This is so reflective of what he and Michonne have impressively built together, and Rick deserves this satisfying peaceful moment so much.

If Richonne had managed to carve out even a semi-decent life a year and a half after the pain of losing their son and fighting a war it would have been commendable. But for them to have healed to the point where they were living a genuinely happy robust life together, speaks to the revitalizing power of their love.

Everything is fruitful and growing in their community, and I love that just like that ripe red tomato Rick finds, Rick is also ready to be fruitful and multiply. Amen. 🥳

And as if the sequence wasn’t already precious enough, Rick places the red tomato at Carl’s gravesite, and he has this quiet moment with his son which just hits my heart. It's like Rick's letting Carl know he's making his dream real just like he promised. 😭

I love that Rick is so devoted to keeping Carl’s memory and wishes alive, including Carl’s desire for Rick to build a bountiful future - specifically one where “Michonne is happy.”

I’ve always found Rick’s teary smile at Carl’s grave interesting because it makes me curious what they're implying he’s thinking. I personally feel like part of it is Rick thinking about the fact that he’s ready to grow their family and knowing Carl would want that for them too. 

So now onto my all-time favorite Richonne scene. 🙌🏽🥳

I truly love that they give Rick and Michonne this at-home, comfortable, living their everyday life moment in bed for their final irl conversation. 😍😭

Where my #2 scene from the season 5 finale was one I really appreciated for depicting Richonne's strength amid tough times, my #1 scene here is one I appreciate so much for depicting Richonne's strength during a time of overall calm. This moment wonderfully and angelically shows how Rick and Michonne's love soars when they finally get to live the peaceful life they fought so hard for.

So I of course love all the scenes where Richonne shower each other in love during high-stakes moments of adversity. But this rewarding scene is so special to me for being a moment of Richonne getting to shower each other in love during a rare time of normalcy after everything they’ve been through. 

So Michonne is up in bed and working on the charter like the Get Things Done Grimes she is. And Rick returns to their room and the moment is just so calm and casual as they ask each other how they slept, and Michonne admits her mind won’t shut off. As we know from their canon ep, they’re very good at helping the other just turn their mind off for a bit and so Rick is def about to help her with that. 😋

I love seeing Rick take his boots off and get right back into bed cuz I know that man already had his mind made up to take today off and just be with his girls. I think about how refreshed Rick was in s9 even though so many of his OG friends were all spread out. And a big reason why he can still seem so content is because as long as he has Michonne and his daughter every day then he has everything.

Then Rick is so encouraging when he tells Michonne she’ll have the charter figured out by supper. Like the charter is a big deal to figure out, but he knows his goddess of a wife can handle it, and I love that he always has so much belief in her. 

When Michonne smiles and says, "yeah, no," Rick is rightfully in full Michonne-stan mode as he tells her it’s good she's leading this place. I love how Rick knows and is grateful that Michonne is so capable of not just helping him lead but being a leader in her own right.

And I like that Michonne says, "with you" because it just shows how much she truly values their partnership and still only wants to lead if it’s with him. The “Me and you” way. 😊

It’s really sweet the way Rick says, "Nah, I’ve been at the bridge, here it’s you." He’s going to make sure Michonne gets credit where credit is due. And again, his reverence for her has always been so lovely to watch throughout this scene and this series. (Rick Grimes is a 'Michonner,' y'all 😋💕)

Also, it's great seeing that Rick is so comfy as he rests on the bed while letting Michonne know she’s the one whose been keeping this place safe and figuring out how to improve it. After roughing it in prison cells, the woods, and mattress-less rooms during the saviors' reign, it's great to see him get to just make himself comfortable in a warm bed with the love of his life.

And Michonne is all multi-tasking by listening to him, writing notes down, and setting a plan to take their daughter to the doctor. Like truly, Rick,...

But he already knows that. 😊

Then I love seeing this parents moment of them talking about Judith’s cough and taking her to the doctor. Rick assures that he checked on her and it’s probably just a cough but Mama Michonne still wants to be sure so she says she's going to take her to Siddiq just in case. And Rick is immediately on board saying he’ll join them. I love this dad, y’all. 🥰

Like this is what’s important to Rick always, so even as a leader with so much on his plate, being around for his family is always the priority, even for just an unassuming doctor's visit. 

And I also love this exchange cuz It’s so clear that Rick and Michonne are equally Judith's parents and obviously have a lot of care for her that they want to take precautions even if it’s a small cough. I'll also just never get over that we went from Michonne saying, "You could've just taken the formula" to now her and Rick talking about Judith as the daughter they're raising together. 🤗

Then my uncontrollable smiling has returned when Rick tells Michonne that they’ll have to promise Judith a Family Fun Day to get her to go to the doctor. 🥰 I love that they’ve coined this term, indicating Family Fun Days are something they do often. They really are such a beautiful caring family, and their eventual family reunion that I've been trying to speak into existence since 2018 is going to be HEAVENLY. 😇

The fact that the word "fun" can even be a part of their lives now is refreshing. And I also love how much this family fun day is something Rick genuinely wants not just for Judith but for him and for Michonne too. Here for it.

Michonne smiles when he says this and then has a realization moment as she asks, "Aren’t you headed back right away?" And Rick says, "I can take the day" and then says “We can.” That man ain’t tell a lie. Rick and Michonne deserve a day off, and I like how this is the beginning of Rick helping Michonne know that it’s okay to take a break in this scene. 😏 And once again, Rick demonstrates that when he's with Michonne...the world can wait. 😌

Rick says the last report was good and “Maggie will be there soon thanks to you.” Which again I love that every chance Rick gets he’s giving Michonne her props.

There's also something a bit sad about this because Rick is so convinced that the others can hold it down for a bit but that ends up not being the case and results in their family fun day getting cut short indefinitely.

I really feel like because Rick values Michonne’s influence and insights so highly in his own life, that’s why he felt so confident that Maggie would have become on board after a visit with Michonne - because he would have had Michonne visited him. He thinks everyone should get in formation when Michonne speaks just like he does, and Rick, sincerely...

Always intuitive, Michonne knows that Maggie is still angry and Daryl too so she tells Rick this and he nods and then he asks, "Well you want me to go?" And I was like now Slick Rick knows the answer to that is no lol.

Michonne places her hand on his and says she wants it to work. And by reaching for his hand it shows that ultimately she of course wants him to stay with her, she just knows how much they’re needed by the others. #SelflessQueen

Also, there's just something so moving to me about the way she looks at him in this moment. Like of course Michonne is known for her only-envision-winning mentality, but here there is also a part of her that needs some reassurance that everything they're trying to do and build really can work despite all the underlying division within the communities and tf.

Needing some reassurance, her husband so sweetly gives her just that when Rick says "It will" in the most comforting tone. And I like how he positions himself to sit up and really look in her eyes as he lets her know that even if everyone isn’t all in yet they will be, “just like we did.”

I love that Rick and Michonne are always a “we”. They’re a package deal cuz they’re one. And that line just felt like a bigger statement to their own journey. How they truly went all in with each other. 

And again the way Michonne looks at him is just heartwarming as she expresses agreement. Her love for him and belief is so visible and sincere. The way they can both always resonantly reach and reassure each other when they speak is perfection.

I love that she then says okay and touches his face, and I also was like sis, you know if you touch him like that this scene is gonna escalate lol. 😋

Then we get to one of my many favorite parts of my favorite scene when Rick looks at Michonne with such genuine abundant love in his eyes and tells her, "Thank you." 🥹

The way Rick always tells her thank you since season 3. 😭 I love the way he adores, praises, and reveres Michonne. Like, for Rick, it is always doting over Michonne hours. 

Michonne asks, "For what?" which just reminded me of when Rick asks her "For what?" when Michonne said she never thanked him in the s3 finale.

And then the way Rick takes a breath and smiles at Michonne on this bed after she asks this - it literally makes me want to shed a tear. It’s just a beyond beautiful wordless moment that really feels like Michonne taking his breath away as he’s overcome with love for her. And that might sound dramatic but hey...

Rick has been in awe of her since literally day one at that fence, and to see seasons later, after getting to know her in the deepest sense, he still has that awe of Michonne but amplified. It's great. And Rick just looks so unabashedly mesmerized by her in this moment which is heartwarming.

Like when she asks 'for what?,' you can tell Rick is just marveling about how incredible she is and how the list of reasons to thank her is miles long.

And this is not really Rick and Michonne's newlywed stage anymore, y'all. This is their married for a while, been through hell and back together after losing our son stage, and Rick still looks at Michonne like she hung the moon and the stars. 😭

And then Rick takes the scene to new heights of heartwarming when he says exactly what he's thanking her for, stating “For everything you’ve done. For everything you’re doing. For you.” Absolutely perfect. 😍😭😍😭

And it's so fitting cuz Michonne really has done so much of value, past, present, and for the future. But the best of the best is Rick saying “for you” because he’s not just grateful for what she does but who she is. And she is someone exceptional. 

I adore that in their final one-on-one irl scene Rick is outright thanking Michone for existing and for the lovely gift that she is and has always been in his life. Honestly, Rick's romantic heart needs to be studied because the things he says to and about Michonne are just everything and more. 🥹

Another thing that makes this scene and ep so special is Rick and Michonne don’t know this is their last day together. So for them, this is just another day. And I love it for showing how all this beautiful love and adoration they’re letting out is not because they’re trying to make their final day count - this is just how they are with each other on the regular.

And I love that we get to see Michonne’s reaction to receiving this genuine love and appreciation from her husband as he gives her her flowers. Michonne deserves every bit of this love. 🙌🏾💐

I am so excited that Michonne will get to have this type of love back in her life when she finally reunites with the man who adores her. 🤗 I firmly believe Rick’s awe of Michonne will only be heightened when he gets to learn how resilient she’s been in his absence for herself, their children, and their community. She’s had to be so strong for so many, and I love that she’ll finally be back in the arms of the one whom she can be most soft and taken care of with.

And the same goes for Rick. After being a man desperately looking and longing for his family while so alone for years - I am elated that he’ll be back with the woman who most makes him feel loved, sane, seen, and home. 

When Rick and Michonne see each other again you know this is about to be a direct quote from both their minds...

Also, something that’s so sweet about the love story crafted for Rick and Michonne is that adoring each other comes so effortlessly to them. They don’t have to constantly remind or force themselves to be attentive and expressive to each other, it’s the most natural thing in the world for them to love this person in front of them out loud.

So yes it’s an active daily choice to love, but I appreciate that it also feels so aligned with how Rick and Michonne want to naturally operate - head over heels in the most grown, grounded, yet grand way. 🥰

Then, after saying something so authentic, accurate, and beautiful by thanking her for pretty much everything, the two share a sweet kiss. And their every kiss is so special to me. Like it’s always passionate no matter what. And just the way he looks at her after 😭 heart-melting. They're irresistible to each other and always have been. 😍

I especially love that Michonne then leans in and kisses him again as her own thank you for his kind words. Those magnets within them mean we’re always gonna see more than one kiss. 😋

And then she slides her hand down his neck and chest and once again I was like - now sis, you know things are about to escalate if you do that. 🤭

And sure enough…😋

Rick starts closing the books and moving them away as he invitingly says, "Why don’t you take a break?" 😏 I love it. It’s cute that Michonne is instantly tickled by this too. She knows what’s up. And she knows she’s down. ijs. 😋

But first she asks, "You want me to stop working?" and she knows good and well the answer is yes - but I love that Rick has always been a little extra when it comes to Michonne so he doesn’t only say yes. Instead, he takes the pencil out of her hand and flicks it away as he says, "yeah" in a way that will never fail to have me smiling and kicking my feet cuz like...

And Michonne was undeniably amused already, but she got especially tickled when he tossed the pencil. That man always has her smitten. 😊

I adore seeing this playful side of them and this reminder that Rick and Michonne are husband and wife and also best friends who could always make each other laugh. 

Even more, I love how Rick fully believes Michonne can do any and everything…but he also knows she shouldn’t have to, especially not all the time. Which is why I appreciate his consistent thing of wanting to give them a chance to have a break and time to themselves.

It's sweet too how, without even fully seeing his face, you can still see from Rick's profile that he has this genuine proud smile upon seeing he made his wife laugh. Her joy is truly one of his favorite things. 🥹

Rick smiling at her here reminds me of how happy he was to have made Michonne smile when he came home with mints to give her in their canon ep seasons ago. #TheirLoveNeverFades

I adore that from season 3 saying "Good, cuz I see things" to this moment in season 9, Richonne stayed flirty with each other, both when strangers and when married. 🥰

And then Michonne teases as she asks Rick, "You want me to stop creating the foundations of a new civilization?"...The questions are just foreplay at this point because they both know what's about to happen rn lol. She and Rick both know that what he wants is in the first three words of her question. 😋

I love the way Michonne talks to him and looks at him and the way Rick can’t help but touch her and study her while she speaks, knowing this is the woman he is so ready to have another child with.

Somehow in this moment, Rick seems to be intently listening to her while also distracted by her all at the same dang time. 🤭

So Michonne is all cutely smiling at him while waiting for his answer... and then Rick gives an unforgettable answer.

(also the way even Rick and Michonne's movement is in sync in this scene is just 👩🏽‍🍳💋. they're magnets fr)

Rick looks right at Michonne and then says, “I can think of another way to build for the future” and it’s just ahhhhhh. The best. 😭 What a great way to reveal that Rick wants to have a baby with Michonne.

The scene organically transitions from like playful causal morning vibes to a huge serious declaration of love and development for their family and I'm too here for it. 😍

Rick wanting this baby is a huge deal, especially just a year and a half after losing Carl. And him being at this stage has everything to do with his belief in Michonne and him together and knowing he's with the love of his life who has in so many ways healed him with her one-of-a-kind presence.

He's seen the way he and Michonne work so well together in any role - parents, partners, lovers, leaders - and Rick has always known that the two of them can do anything, from reordering the world to raising a growing family.

So then Rick passionately kisses her after he says this - but like this is a giant statement and Michonne knows what he’s implying is a big deal, so she has this curious look at him. And then I absolutely adore this next moment of them transitioning to a more intimate position.

The way Rick is ready for her to do this little maneuver always felt like a nice little suggestion that they’ve done this often. And it’s just so sensual and romantic. 😍 But I also love this shift for showing how Michonne goes right out of work mode and wants to be so fully present and focused on him as she confirms that Rick is really saying what she thinks he’s saying. Their consistent ability to be present with each other deserves another shoutout cuz it's gold. 👏🏽👏🏽

Also, the way Rick just stays with his eyes glued to her as he holds her and the way Michonne tenderly holds his face in her hands. They knew they were gonna have little Richonner hearts everywhere doing front flips with this movement alone. And I ain't mad at it. 😋

Michonne looks right in Rick's eyes as she says a hopeful, "Yeah?" Then Rick says such a certain, "Yeah" that lets you know having a kid with Michonne isn’t some out-of-nowhere idea that just hit him but something he’s thought about and is sure about. Rick is always sure when it comes to him and her. 👌🏽

And you just know Rick loves their future baby already too, especially because the baby will be part of the woman he's madly in love with.

Michonne smiles and softly says, "okay" and then I love the way Rick eagerly pulls her in closer to him. 😊🧲

Then the last line of the scene is Michonne so sweetly repeating Rick's words back, as they so often do throughout their relationship, as she says, "For The Future." 🥹 

Perfect. x1000.

What a fitting final line and final scene to conclude Richonne's last private exchange like this. Especially for two reasons.

One; thinking about the long-term future used to not be a luxury they had at the start of the apocalypse so it shows how far they've come. Two; Rick and Michonne were two people who, even before they met each other, fought to believe in the future even when others around them (and at times their own past partners) didn't. But in finding each other, Rick and Michonne found the one who could fight to live like them, believe in the future like them, and hold onto hope like them - And now here they are in love and getting to feel so hopeful about their future together. 😭

It’s great that such a major decision like having another kid is one Rick and Michonne were both so quickly on the same page about. They both are ready for this. Both want their splendid love to take form in a new life being brought into the world. 🥹

And again it’s such a testament to their powerful relationship and the way they were able to help build each other back up after losing Carl to the point that they could be healed enough to want another kid. I'll never get over it.

Then I adore this shot of Rick looking up at Michonne with the two bathed in light. It feels so reflective of how highly Rick's always viewed her and how Michonne's been the light in his life. She's his future. And he's hers. 🥰

The scene concludes with Rick and Michonne sharing their last irl passionate kiss as things finally escalate, and they savor each other as they do best. And this whole scene and final moment is just so beautiful it makes my heart hurt. Richonne is stunning and their love is a work of art. 🙌🏾

'Epic love story' really is the best way to describe Richonne, and I love love love that Rick and Michonne always enjoy reveling in Richonne. We have that in common. 😋

I just so appreciate that before he left the show, it was made crystal clear that what Rick wanted for his future was to bring life into this world with Michonne, the ultimate and unequivocal love of his life. 👏🏽 And he’s going to learn that even apart, that dream was still achieved. The Get Things Done Grimes got it done. The baby Rick loved before he even was made, lives. Oh I CANNOT wait for Rick to learn about and meet RJ!!! 🥳😭

Knowing Rick and Michonne's individual journeys, it genuinely moves me that two people who went through so much and lost so much but continued to fight for the people they love got personally rewarded with this gorgeous and deep love that’s just for them. And they didn’t shy away from the love that was there, rather they valiantly and completely embraced it and it’s truly what they deserve. They both deserve to be loved this wholly.

I know this is my undeniable #1 scene because each time I watch it, it warms my whole soul and I get fully enwrapped in it - just mesmerized and overjoyed from start to finish. Watching this #1 scene, during every single part I'm just like...

And Rick and Michonne Grimes bathed in bright sunlight and sharing a passionate kiss while acknowledging they want their future and their love to now take shape in the form of a child is just such a fitting final private exchange between them on TWD and so very special. They're a shining light to each other, to the franchise, and to me, y'all. ☀️

When I say Richonne is everything it’s not just a phrase. They literally have everything going for them and are everything to each other. And every scene from my 30th to this #1 moment masterfully illustrates their resplendent love.

This season 9 scene feels like a love letter to Richonne and it's my all-time favorite for capturing everything I adore about Rick and Michonne’s relationship all in one. Tens across the board. 

I look at this whole scene and whenever I see it I just think - This is Richonne. For me, this scene is their definition. ♥️👌🏽

Richonne is truly love incarnate, and this beautiful top-tier moment captured that flawlessly. 👑🤍😌

[destinationtrekk]

young wesker who gets drunk and giggly with reader. at first he had been so... cold, so expressionless and absolutely cluelessly bone-dry on how to go about doing anything but a daylight two-step move-his-arms-a-little to the dance music blaring from somewhere, but that's okay, reader can show him.

and he enjoys it... and he's laughing, and his face is flushed, and the scent of vodka is deep on his tongue, and he has severely miscalculated his drink, but that's okay, because reader keeps him safe and happy and distracted the entire time.

at the end, as he begins to sober up, they can't seem to get out of him where he's supposed to go to now (perhaps he is trying to revel in it, this one normalcy, just one event he took on to learn how to behave like everyone else and got taught more about himself and his own interests than he'd ever planned, a snapshot of a life he could have lived if only--) so they take him back to their house and snuggle him up in a blanket burrito on the couch, making him drink water, take an advil, a tylenol.

and as he gets back to himself and they smoke a cig, talking about life as he gets rather quiet and inward again (for he cannot share, he has nothing positive or appropriate to), they do something unexpected and yet wholly welcome, a gift to close out the night: they give him a quick, brief and fleeting shotgun kiss, hand warm on his cheek, before they send him off for a nap, telling him to stay the night so he'll be well and sober the next day to depart. free breakfast if he's still around by then, otherwise, they take no offense.

he has no way of telling them the truth of this fragile matter. he has no way of divulging his life, which would undoubtedly ruin whatever scrapbook memory he is currently creating, and certainly no way to hold onto this awfully pleasant being who he can, apparently, trust in his total ineptitude with heavy inebriance. and he can't keep seeing them again after this. and his view on how ruthless and manipulative human beings are when faced with vulnerability has been shaken to its' core, and he can't say it, and he wants to, but...

instead he asks them to stay a little while he falls asleep (just one final, little test, he muses to himself), and they oblige. he's laid on the couch, head in their lap, his (admittedly not quite so soft after all the gel has hardened) hair being carded through by soft, ever-eager, sleepy fingers. he will never get a moment like this again and he pushes himself to take it in, revel in every second that passes, commit to absolute memory (no matter what he had earlier in the day) every detail of this sightly, sweetly saint's face.

he ends up falling asleep feeling cherished. he will remember this day forever. years to come he will still have tabs on this person, and their life will still be unexpectedly, oddly lucky.

maybe one day he'll find it in him to thank them properly, face-to-face...

nshtn can i say i love you? because i love you and every time you come in my inbox i get so excited

first and foremost i don't think he even would dance at a party. he very much is the kind of guy to find a spot and linger there with a group he's only half listening to. once he meets you though his night gets much much more interesting

he's never really had chances to drink, except maybe whiskey or something expensive with Spencer during their talks about Umbrella and the future, so when you start handing him all kinds of seltzers and mixed drinks and straight shots of vodka, he is very overwhelmed

he can't show it though! so he dutifully takes most of what you hand him, a few drinks are two sweet for him, and he is very quickly wasted tbh. you're so nice though, and you drag him in the middle of everyone dancing and show him a few easy things and soon enough he's bouncing around with everyone else

every time he starts to think about what's going to happen tomorrow you're immediately there to distract him. it's almost like you can read his mind - you know just the right things to say and how to push people out of the way and he just thinks you're perfect under the flashing lights

finally when it's time to go home, he knows for a fact he can't show up at his place looking messed up as he is - what if Spencer or Birkin or some nameless Umbrella employee saw him and ratted him out? so he takes your offer to go to your house gracefully as he can this drunk

he knows now that you're a party expert, you immediately make him drink water and wash his face and take preemptive tylenol for the hangover. your fleeting kiss and warm hands on his sweaty skin are so sweet he can't bear to think about it longer than he has to. he knows he should leave before you wake up tomorrow and forget this wonderful night ever happened (he'll never forget you, not even on his deathbed)

you give him every courtesy and kindness you can offer and he decides to take just one more, one last sweet touch to take with him into the night. you smile sleepily and open your arms for him to fall into - the blanket covering his shoulders is a little too hot and you both smell like beer and liquor and sweat but your lap is so soft, it makes the ache in his back and shoulders from carrying the world lessen a bit, and your fingers in his hair send him into a beautiful and silent sleep

the next morning it physically pains him to untangle from your body on the couch. he stands and watches you for a moment, his heart clenching and pounding in his chest, until he forces himself out the door before you can feel his absence.

when he meets you again, what feels like a thousand years later, his heart pounds just the same. you recognize him, his twisted dark smirk and deep eyes, and when you smile and say his name he's suddenly twenty-something all over again and dizzy and drunk in your arms - he never wants to leave you again

[cupids-chamber]

— I'M GONNA LOVE YOU, RIGHT TILL' YOU HATE ME GENDER NEUTRAL READER 

IMAGINE: Yandere!Twst cast, dreaming of the MC, before they ended up Twst, and even though they searched for them, they couldn't quite find them... now that they've found them.. they can't seem to let you go.. how would they feel when they've learned that there are more competitors for your love.

A/N: I'm gonna call this the dreaming of you au! I have some plans for it.. I had to split this in part, because of tumblr's fucking word limit.

SAVANACLAW / HEARTSLABYUL / DIASOMNIA / OCTAVINELLE / SCARABIA + IGNIHYDE / POMEFIORE

He couldn’t recall when the dreams had first started, it was quite suffocating.. Looking back, he was tired of the same dream over and over again, yet it changed.. Slowly, he watched you growing up along with him, it was as if his dreams mirrored your own life.. And at one point, he believed that these vivid dreams held some meaning, there had to be a reason why he’d keep seeing the same person over and over again… At one point, he even started to believe that you were his.. Someone meant for him.. And as he grew older, he couldn’t help but search for you, wanting to validate his thoughts and imagination, which has gotten rather out of hand over the past few years. 

He didn’t even consider that others would have taken interest in you as well, ‘did they see you in their dreams as well?’.. The thought would have driven him wild, had he not been patient thus far, he might have truly lost himself then and there.. However, if he had waited this long, then it wouldn’t have been difficult to wait a bit longer.. After all.. He knew you a lot better than you know yourself.. He just needs you to realize.. That you’re his.. and he is yours…

YANDERE!MALLEUS, The first meeting he had with you, felt like another dream.. He couldn’t help but wish that it was a reality, but he quickly came upon the realization that you could see him, and that this was in fact, not an intricate dream.. Whether it was a blessing or a curse that you were here, he couldn’t help but let his enthusiasm slip through his composure and create cracks in his behaviorisms. He gazed at you in a soft endearing manor, that was sure to waver one’s heart, he knows you much better than you had expected, you couldn’t help but find it odd, that he could just tell how you felt, and conclude what certain mannerisms had meant, how you would fiddle around when you were anxious or growing impatient.. You should’ve been concerned.. But Tsunotarou was your dearest friend.. And of course a dear friend would know of your feelings.. wouldn’t he..?

YANDERE!LILIA, Lilia didn’t have something so unexpected happen to him in quite the while, he had seen someone in his dreams, upon his move to NRC, maybe it was the change in climate getting to his head, or his age finally catching up to him.. Well if that was the case, he surely would have realized sooner. His dreams consisted of someone, a human.. And overtime, as year one passed and year two slowly approached, Lilia had started harboring and developing a sort of interest in this little human.. One who was not of this world, but much far away in fact.. He couldn’t help but grow more and more intrigued by that revelation.. He didn’t plan on doing much, despite being more than capable of doing so, he was captivated by you.. Yet he knew better than acting upon desire towards you.. Until of course he saw you here at NRC.. if you were so near.. Why should he stop himself.. He had no reason too.. and he didn’t intend to either. 

YANDERE!SILVER, Silver had always been one to dream of a sweet and caring relationship, when it came to the aspect of love, even during childhood, not having much of a couple that he saw growing up, he didn’t quite have a label or definition on how someone should love, and he doubted getting his fathers advice would help, so when he had seen you in his dreams, he paid no mind.. He had given you a charming dream even, “Mrs. Fairy” it was rather odd calling you a miss, while you were most likely his age or younger at the time.. He never really interacted with you, finding it more or less peaceful watching you from afar, you were majestic.. and amazing.. He analyzed everything you did, with great fervor, he couldn’t tell as a child, but as he grew.. He knew that he had fallen for you.. The aspect of love in a foreign sense felt ever so foreign to him, yet he couldn’t help himself from falling for someone as charming as you.. So it was to no dismay that he had fallen for you.. Someone as charming as you deserved only the very best.. And when Silver first laid eyes on you in person, he felt as if he had fallen for you all over again, mumbling under his breath about how all the more amazing you were in person, he could’ve sworn he saw an angel, but once he had come to realize, others were hindering in his perfect romance, he had decided to take on a different approach, after all.. This was his fairy tale to tell and create. 

YANDERE!SEBEK, Sebek didn’t know how or why he was dreaming of you, to be quite honest it ticked him off more than causing him any sort of pleasure or comfort, yet over time.. He found himself falling for you.. It wasn’t explainable, in fact he couldn’t recall how he had fallen for such a lowlife such as yourself.. Sebek felt awful for loving you, yet he wanted to keep you his at the very same time.. But you were a fragment of his imagination no less, he’d feed himself these useless words of comfort, thinking they’d hinder his thought process and undo the threads of love that so tirelessly binds him to you, he despised you and yet wanted you, this human.. From a dream no less! Too look at him.. Only him.. And yet.. you.. you.. never did. He had hoped and prayed that by entering school, he’d busy himself enough to forget about you and your ever so disturbing existence.. If you ever did truly exist.. Yet his hopes were in vain when he saw you.. With another.. well that wouldn’t do.. no this wasn’t what he wanted.. nor would he tolerate such disrespect from an insolent human such as yourself! 

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[wri0thesley]

the perfect date - mahito x reader (3.8k)

there are a couple of drawbacks to being with a curse, romantically speaking. mahito, though, would like to remind you . . . there are also some benefits.

cw: not sfw. reader is afab, but no gendered pronouns are used. mahito's transformative powers are used (tongue, shifting genital size). oral (reader receiving), edging. the softest mahito i can possibly write, but there's still . . . an edge to him! pet names including 'cutie' and 'darling'.

this was a commissioned work.

Nights like this, you can almost forget that what you and Mahito have isn’t normal.

Mahito sits beside you on your sofa, his body curled about you like a cat. Arms wrapped about your waist, head lolling against your shoulder, so close that you can see every stitch that decorates his body, smell his peculiar springtime-and-sweet-rot scent every time you breathe in. It is not an entirely unpleasant scent - and it’s one that you relax into, that makes you feel like you’re at home. 

The television is blaring some choice of movie that Mahito had picked out from your collection - he’s always fascinated by your tastes, prodding and poking you to explain why you have this one, what do you like about it, won’t you sit and watch it with him--? 

You, of course, are helpless to resist doing anything the curse asks of you. 

Tonight’s choice is a romantic thriller. There’s some plot about a secret document and an FBI agent and star-crossed lovers on the wrong sides of a dispute; but you’ve reached your own favourite part of the movie by now. The two lovers are taking a stroll through a beachside amusement park - one of those tacky things that’s all painted striped sidings and romantic carnival games. One of the lovers wins a small stuffed animal in a shooting game booth, only for their partner to win the jackpot, a huge and luridly pastel bunny clasped between them. They share a pink cotton candy in the shape of a heart, ride a Tunnel of Love, share a kiss at the very top of a ferris wheel--

And quite against your will, quite unexpectedly, as you watch this show of romantic affection - your heart gives a sickening lurch in your chest. 

You have always wanted that, too. 

You have watched this movie plenty of times and imagined yourself on this date; fluttering your lashes demurely at the attendant at the Tunnel of Love, revelling in the fond glances of passers-by as you and your beloved take a photograph of you with the giant bear or rabbit or panda they won for you. You have daydreamed about romance and dates and showing off your beau to everyone you meet--

And though you are not lonely, for nobody who had Mahito as a paramour could ever feel that way . . . there is a soft little empty ache inside of you that reminds you that what you have is not quite the fairytale of your dreams. 

“Hey,” Mahito’s voice is pouty as he shifts against you, silken silver hair brushing your arm. He gives you a poke that just manages to avoid being painful. “You’re not paying attention. What are you thinking about?”

You start guiltily and look at him. Curious bicoloured eyes stare up at you; he doesn’t look angry. He seems more amused. Your little mortal foibles are a source of endless fascination for him. 

“I was watching the movie,” you say to him, which isn’t entirely true. And then you say; “I was thinking about going on dates.”

And that one is entirely true. 

There are problems with the romantic relationship you share with Mahito. Some of them are more obvious than others; at his very core, he is not really human, and you do not know how much he feels human emotions. He has an intense fondness and affection for you, yes - but you know, too, that he is capable of great hatred in the name of his boundless curiosity and the purposes which formed him. Whenever he tells you about his experiments, though, and you show a brief flare of disquiet . . . Mahito giggles and pokes your cheeks and bestows cool kisses all over your face, decrying passionately;

“Not you, cutie. Not ever you. You’re my favourite!”

That should bother you more, you think - and yet, as you watch this romance unfold on screen and these two actors play-act at the perfect date . . . you find that the thing that makes you ache most about being with Mahito is not what he might do, not what he has done, not even the things he tells you he’s going to do to mortals who do not have as much of his favour and adoration as you do . . . but that you will never get this brand of hokey romance. 

It’s rare enough that you have the ability to see him - if you were to take him to a funfair like this one, you would surely just look like one person wandering around, all alone. How sad you would seem on the Tunnel of Love, on a single boat with no lover to share it with - nobody would give you admiring looks or whisper behind their hands what a cute couple you and Mahito make. 

And it is not just the date. 

There will never be pictures all over your house of Mahito and you. You’re not even sure he would show up in the photographs, if you tried to take them. There will be no wedding, no holidays, no official moving in day (Mahito does live with you, but that was rather more like a cat choosing its owner, making itself at home with no formal invitation). You will never be able to introduce him to your friends and family, nor even talk about him to them, lest they want to meet him and then discover the truth of what he is (that is, if they could even see him). 

You have known all of this in the back of your mind. You’ve pushed it back watching gory horror movies and fantasy and science fiction, giving Mahito copies of your favourite books to read - but suddenly now, faced with this movie and the simplicity of ‘going on a date with somebody you care about’ . . . it has all come crashing to the forefront, and you feel an empty ache of something you will never truly have. 

“I’ll go on a date with you!” Mahito chirps it easily. Helplessly, you flutter your hands around, trying to grasp for the right words. “Mmm, I could take you to the place I used to live? Ah, or the movie theatre? We might have to try a late-night showing, but . . .”

“That’s not it,” you say, and you realise in frustration that your voice cracks. Mahito stiffens at the emotion in your voice - and then moves, getting onto his knees, gathering the long lithe limbs of his body together so that he can take your chin in his hand and force you to look at him. “I just . . . it’s all so romantic, you know? A-and we . . . we won’t get anything like that--”

His face is quizzical; eyes wide, one eyebrow cocked, mouth pursed in thought. He’s beautiful even like that - the stitches that bisect his face serving to give him a kind of inhuman beauty that makes your heart drum against your ribcage. 

“And I want to!” You continue, suddenly worried that he’ll take your frustration at the situation as frustration about him. “I want to show you off! I want to make my friends jealous and d-do all those normal couple things--”

Realisation dawns over his face. 

“Oh,” he says. And then, this time, a smile splitting his face like the cat that has gotten the cream; “Oh. Darling. Oh.”

You squirm under his gaze, your face heating up; and a familiar feeling low in your stomach and between your thighs that Mahito’s pleased purr has drawn out. 

Before you can breathe, Mahito has manoeuvred you into the exact position he wants you in - and you are laid out on your own couch with the curse atop of you, straddling your waist. One hand reaches down to cup your cheek, his thumb pressing into the soft skin there. He lowers his face until it’s so close you can see your own reflection in his eyes. 

“Cutie,” he breathes, the word full of intent. “You’re right in that I can’t give you that kind of thing . . . But don’t you think human romance can be so boring? So predictable?” He rolls the words around in his mouth, savouring them, his mouth turning up at the corners in a smile that’s almost lascivious. “Do you need me to remind you of all of the benefits of having something like me as a lover?” 

Your pulse rabbits, and you know that Mahito can surely sense how it quickens - can probably smell the way your desire has spiked in the air, can certainly see how your eyes have gone dark and wide, the way that your breath escapes your parted lips. 

He leans down and kisses you, hard; his mouth cool against yours, his teeth automatically nipping at your bottom lip. Your own mouth falls open in a silent surrender, and Mahito’s tongue greedily brushes over your own. That spot just behind your front teeth, on the roof of your mouth . . . and you realise with a start that Mahito’s tongue isn’t quite human.

He pulls back with a satisfied grin, humming low in the back of his throat - and you see a flash of that inhuman tongue he has crafted, longer and thicker than any mortal tongue has ever been. 

“What kind of things do you think I could do with this?” He asks you, letting it loll out a little. The expression should by rights look silly; but on Mahito it looks dangerous and horribly attractive all at once. You feel your cheeks go hot, your body squirm beneath him. “Aww! You’re too shy to tell me?”

He laughs, and like liquid, he slides himself off of you and onto his knees on the floor. Strong, long fingers tug at your body, moving you like a doll, until you are sitting in front of him and he is between your legs, your back against the sofa cushions. Seeing Mahito’s curious eyes peering at you from there, you know exactly what kind of thing he has in mind, and your stomach twists in pleasurable anticipation. 

“Let’s get these off of you,” he says, tugging at your clothes. “So impractical! You should just not bother with clothes when we’re alone.” 

Your bottoms and underwear slip easily from your hips and thighs - ignored and tossed aside by Mahito, who has a one-track mind when he has something he has set his sights on. And what he has currently set his sights on is what lies between your legs. He nudges his cheek against your thigh, an impatient order for you to spread - and who are you to deny him?

“Oh!” He exclaims in glee, as you shyly part them and he sees your sex, glistening wet for him. “Mmm, you’re excited for this too?” That too-big tongue is peeking out from between his lips, and as you look at it the tip changes just a little; becomes somewhat more bulbous, more like the head of a cock-- “Don’t be getting all nervous on me, now!” 

You let out a soft noise of surprise as Mahito dives between your legs with no more fanfare than that. 

Mahito does all things with enthusiasm, whether you’re prepared for them or not; and you are not prepared for the way one of your thighs is easily slung over his muscular shoulder, or the peculiar feeling of the tongue he has transfigured as it laps down your heated core in one long, quick movement. Mahito moans in pleasure at the way your thighs tense, the taste of you spilling over his lips - pauses after his lick to whisper;

“I could eat you alive, you taste so sweet--”

And then turns back to the task at hand with gleeful abandon. 

Your fingers find purchase on the edge of the sofa cushion, your other hand going almost automatically to tangle in Mahito’s silky silvery locks. He doesn’t seem to care about how they tug on his hair a bit; instead, he merely moans into your sex and redoubles his efforts. 

Messily, he laps and licks at you - that inhuman tongue covers more of your folds than should be possible, almost as if he wants to make good on the promise to eat you alive. Every so often, you feel the dangerous brush of teeth against your most sensitive parts; but Mahito doesn’t let it be any more than a hint, the slightest graze. He’s far too busy drinking you in like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. 

It’s more rigid than a human tongue should be, too; when it teases at your entrance, drawing circles around it, your hips jerk up towards it in surprise from how much it feels like a finger or something even bigger. Mahito lets out a huff of laughter, thrusts it in just a few scant centimetres - and pulls back, leaving your channel aching and tingling with desire to be filled with something for far longer than he let you.

He moves his attentions to your clit instead; toying with the bud, rolling it with his tongue, flickering the tip against the swollen little bud until you are tugging harder at his hair, whining softly, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead. He never gives quite enough pressure to let you come. Instead, the way he’s playing with you has little bubbles of arousal coursing through your veins, letting you teeter on the very edge, your climax almost almost in view--

Before he pulls back, lavishes wet kisses on your thighs instead, leaving you trembling on the edge of an orgasm that he isn’t yet ready to let you fall head-first into. 

“M-Mahito . . .” You manage to whine out, though you feel breathless and light-headed. “D-don’t tease me--” 

He stops and looks up at you from between your legs; you’re struck by how beautiful he is, even with your own slick making his mouth and chin shiny. His eyes are lit bright, lips smiling, silver hair all ruffled. There’s something inhuman in him, yes - but like this, it’s a beautiful inhumanity, like an angel. A smirk curls his mouth.

“But you’re so cute when I do!”

He ducks his head down again, his tongue back to its incessant working over of your sex. Your body thrums with tension that has not been allowed to come to a head; you whimper out your desire to be allowed more, but Mahito does not seem to care. You’re clearly just too cute to him utterly at his mercy; trembling and sweating and hoping that he’ll take a little pity on you. 

He alternates between fucking shallowly into you with his inhuman tongue (not deep enough, never deep enough), and playing with your clit. Circling it, suckling on it, treating your spread thighs like a dessert buffet to be sampled and toyed with. You want him to eat his fill. The longer he spends edging you, teasing you, not letting you come . . . The hazier you begin to feel. 

Your breath comes in short sharp little gasps, your chest heaving. You think you must be on fire. 

“M-Mahito . . . ‘hito . . .” You’re practically hiccuping out the words. Your voice is a slurred mess of a thing. “Need to . . . Please . . . ‘m sorry, you’re . . .”

His mouth separates from you. A lewd gossamer strand of your arousal clings to the corner of his mouth, connecting your sex and his lips. 

“Poor thing,” he coos. “You really need it, don’t you? You need me to give you what you want?”

He lets the question stretch in the air until you can get your tongue around the question. 

“Yes,” you manage to moan out, your voice soft and small and pathetic. “Mahito . . . please make me come--”

His teeth glint bright in the light of the living room, and then he is diligently bent between your legs again, and his lips fasten around the pearl of your clit. 

This time, he doesn’t pull back as the wave crests the shore. This time, Mahito keeps his mouth around it; keeps sucking and licking, keeps flicking the tip of his tongue over it, until the tide crashes over you and you think that you might black out from the sheer force of the pleasure finally being allowed to reach its zenith. 

You’re crackling. Floating on air. A slick gush of more of your arousal paints Mahito’s face, your toes curling, your mouth slack and wide open, as the orgasm does not so much ‘wash’ over you as it drowns you, fills every one of your senses with nothing but its inescapable warmth and comfort and rapture.

Mahito’s eyes look up at you from between your legs, drinking in the way that your satisfaction changes the taut lines of your face and body. He mouths something that you don’t hear, because of the roar of contentment that drowns out everything but the pools of heat that are supposed to be your body. 

(If you didn’t know better, you’d almost say . . . that the shape of his lips almost seemed like he murmured ‘perfect’).

He stands and you are boneless to do anything but watch him, dazed from the release he’s finally allowed you to feel. He shrugs off his shirt without a care in the world, pushing his sweatpants down - he wears no underwear, and you watch as his body moves and ripples and suddenly between his toned thighs where there once was nothing, is a cock standing hard to attention with pearly beads of precome gathering on the head.

“Not too big?” He coos at you, as he curls his hands beneath your knees and moves your position so that you’re entirely at his mercy once more, hard cock nudging between the lips of your sex. You look up at him, panting. You can’t make any noises other than a whine, canting your hips forward in a motion that is clearly meant to read ‘get on with it and fuck me’. He laughs. “Alright, cutie! We’ll see what you can take when I’m inside of you, hmm?” 

Your body is entirely willing as Mahito thrusts and his cock sinks as deep into you as it can go, his pelvis rubbing against your swollen clit as he bottoms out. He lets out a groan of satisfaction deep and low that whispers pleasurably down your spine. The position you’re in doesn’t quite let you cling to Mahito, so instead you grip the cushions and prepare to be fucked. 

Not that you have any complaints about that. 

Mahito doesn’t take his time with this, either; he immediately slides into a rhythm that, had you not been wet from the way he’d lavished you with his tongue and dreamy from your orgasm, would almost be painful. Instead, it veers on almost-too-much-but-not-quite - Mahito’s hips sliding backwards and forwards, the shaft of his cock sliding in and out with a delicious wet friction that makes goosebumps rise over your bare skin. 

You don’t realise it until you hear it, but you’re moaning with every thrust.

“Oh, you like this?” Mahito murmurs, smiling down at you. There’s a wicked glint in his eyes. “Mm . . . I think this might be better if I was a little thicker, don’t you?”

You feel the way his cock shifts inside of you - the way that the slick tunnel of your sex constricts around the thing inside of it, thicker than it was before, bigger. You can hear your heart beating in your ears. It’s even too much for Mahito - his pace stutters, his eyes rolling back into his head and a guttural groan of pleasure falling from his lips. 

“I--I wouldn’t need to make you tighter,” he says, his voice dreamy. “You fit like a glove--”

You lose sense of time for a while after that. 

There is only the sensation of Mahito inside of you, your heart beating in your chest, Mahito’s breath and yours intermingling. The way that his cock flexes inside of you, expanding by the tiniest of increments until you feel so full you could burst, deeper and wider and more than you’ve ever taken before. Mahito whispers soft praise to you, telling you how good you feel, how well you’re taking him . . .

And making you shudder and shake, filling you up, rubbing himself against you. You moan and whine and pant and thrust your hips - skin slapping against skin, the hot tight knot of pleasure inside of you threatening to unravel with every slight movement. 

“You’re going to come again for me,” Mahito says to you, when you feel stretched to the very limit - when he is barely fucking into you any more, because he’s filled you up so well that the pleasure comes from the feel of him and not from the movement. “Aren’t you? Aren’t you?” A hand drops your knee; slips between your legs to roughly draw jagged circles over your clit.

Your moan seems to hover in the air, a shimmering moment - this one final movement is too much. You see stars as the knot breaks and heat flows through your body like the blood in your veins, your fingers and toes tingling, your sex pulsing about Mahito’s cock.

It’s too much for him too. With a cry of your name, Mahito’s hips stutter once, twice, and then the cock inside of you pulses in tandem with your body and you feel something thick and cool coat your insides, ropes of Mahito’s release claiming your body as his (as if he needed to)--

While you’re still half-delirious with the aftershocks of your release, he changes his cock just enough to slide out of you. His come and your own wetness have probably left a stain on the sofa, but you cannot bring yourself to care right there and then.

And neither can he.

Mahito sighs in pleasure, collapsing on top of you in a way that somehow manages to be elegant. Your breath comes in soft pants, between your thighs still aching a little from the way Mahito had played with size and shape inside of you, stretching you out. He’s like a cat once more with the way he immediately makes your hapless body his home, curling his head upon your shoulders and his arms around you, slotting himself into your lap. 

“Don’t you think that’s so much more pleasurable than anything a normal lover could do?” He asks you, a little smug. He nuzzles his face against you affectionately, always tactile, always wanting to touch you, always fascinated and adoring. 

“. . . Yes,” you admit to him, breathlessly. Your throat still feels a touch dry from the pleasured noises that Mahito had wrung from you. “You’re better than any human could ever be.”

Mahito laughs wild and bright, his eyes flashing in the light. He reaches up and pulls you into another messy kiss; hand wrapping around the back of your neck, tongues and teeth clashing, claiming ownership of you and giving you parts of himself in one fell swoop. 

“You’re better than any other human will ever be,” he tells you, perfectly sincerely. “The only one I could ever - will ever - want. And I want you forever.” 

You do not know if Mahito is really capable of love, in the way that you love him. A creature made from human’s hatred will perhaps never know love in that sense of the word. But for Mahito--

That is simply how he would say ‘I love you’, in his own peculiar way. 

[getthembees]

I'm thinking thoughts about The Winged Lion and his relationship with Mithrun, which feels very out of the ordinary compared to other victims of the demon. Namely, it feels like TWL's actions towards Mithrun are a lot more personal than they are with other characters.

It's established that TWL doesn't revel in killing humans, he only eats desires and will go along with whatever role humanity thrusts upon him if it means he is eating people's desires.

He loves humans, even, the same way someone might love steak, but he nonetheless becomes distraught at the thoughtless destruction brought upon them when a human wishes to destroy the world. He is actively interested in continuing humanity for the sake of filling his belly.

He is driven by his hunger, he's not quite 'evil,' he's just top of the food chain and has a penchant for gorging himself (especially after the initial mass destruction he commits above). He harms at the will of humans, and after he eats someone's desires he doesn't destroy their bodies at all, just leaves them on the floor in a sort of stasis that could be considered a sort of 'death.' (as we see with Thistle, and the first humans he eats at the dinner table).

So, why does he hurt Mithrun?

From the framing of the shot the destruction of Mithrun's eye seems like a symptom of the pinning, TWL is careless and focused only on devouring his prey, so he pins Mithrun in such a way that obviously is not ideal for his well-being. But that doesn't explain why TWL would tear his ears off? There seems to be no rhyme or reason for this violence, and it's only with Mithrun. He is bizarrely exceptionally cruel only to Mithrun.

I know Mithrun believes this to be the demon seeing his inner vanity and sense of superiority and was therefore punishing him for these reasons. But this also just, doesn't seem like something TWL could or would care about. If he's a creature that lives only to eat he doesn't need to teach this random elf he trapped a lesson, he just needs to cultivate his desires and eat them.

But...if this isn't just Mithrun's perspective and is actually true (and the Adventurer's Bible is a sort of 'word of god'/world-building clarification) then... why? Why did TWL choose to do this to Mithrun and only Mithrun?

It's even when they meet again, too! TWL is very mocking towards Mithrun in a way that seems personal.

I don't actually have an answer for this, and unless I've forgotten/missed something it feels like a very targeted act of cruelty towards Mithrun that is not usually part of the lions MO. Would love to hear what other people think.

[stackslip]

i would really like to hear more of your thoughts on fma03 rose. i really love her but a lot of discussion i see is very shallow and completely ignores how she relates to the themes of the show. there's probably an essay about people's reaction to the depiction of rape in fma03 but i don't have the words for it right now.

yeah i got thoughts about 03 rose. i got so many thoughts it keeps me up at night quite literally. anyhow.

so in the manga rose is basically an audience stand-in for plot/worldbuilding exposition right? she's basically mostly made to stand there and React To the elrics’ alchemy, their basic backstory (mom died, we tried to bring her back through human transmutation) and the revelation about their bodies. she's resentful of their intervention at first, but iirc only comes up later again even after liore descends into civil war to basically thank the elrics for showing her the true light etc etc right. same as it ever is with the manga—ed is always right and apart from a few truly egregious mistakes that are never really TRULY his fault, what he does ends up being for the best. iirc (and you might correct me if im wrong bc i am not rereading the manga lol) she basically barely comes up again and not really in any plot or thematic relevant bit.

03 rose is very different in her role from the very start. sure, she's still a bit of an audience stand-in for exposition, but—her grief and desperation for her dead fiancee and how she was an orphan, her devotion to the liorite religion, her general desperation to cling onto the hope of resurrection are all strongly expanded upon and make her feel more real. not only that, she is made a direct parallel to the brothers’ own obstinacy and grief in episode 3; al far more directly relates to her, too (which is interesting when you consider his later relationship to scar). she actively is horrified by the elrics, and “betrays” them not once but twice in hope of getting her fiancé back. the chimera bird is SUUUUCH a good addition to the prologue, it's creepy and grotesque and underlines the unsettling nature of alchemy itself in 03, not just human transmutation. and the ending to episode 2 is just—chefs kiss. it's not a triumph for the elrics, or a liberation for rose. she's bitter and sad, ed tells her to move with her own two legs (a phrase that will come back to haunt him!!!!) but it sounds…. kinda hollow and doesnt do much to comfort her then. later she clings to that phrase even as her world disintegrates, and as she is the only liorite who realizes the new priest is clearly a fraud and breaks down about it. the elrics leave rose in liore, their job done—but this is just the beginning of HER story and liore’s altogether. because unlike the manga and bh, 2003 is deeply concerned with consequences, with how careless words and actions that might seem heroic or necessary, or justifications for *juuuust* a little destabilization or transmutation or fight from the people who hold all the power (specifically alchemists; more specifically dante/hohenheim and state alchemists) lead to truly horrific consequences.

and like, one of the best examples of this isnt just ed’s intervention in liore—especially as one could argue that dante’s plans were already in motion there and that war with amestris was always in the plans. but yknow, ed certainly didnt help in playing his role there. no, the best example is ep 5—years before ed and al arrive in liore, they save general hakuro from the train attack. the guy who seems like a Nice Military Man with his family attacked by evil rebels, right? well, that same man is the one who is going to lead the repression of liore and who in all likelihood is responsible for rose’s rape and abuse. ed has saved the man who is going to destroy rose’s life!

because rose really is key to the themes of 03. but not just of consequence, but of *resistance* to imperialist warmongers. when the conflict in liore breaks out, rose is shown to be protecting children—she refuses to sell out her people, she actively resists the amestrian military. when they claim they are Just Here To Help the civilian conflict it is directly juxtaposed with the army literally shooting down civilians; AND in the same episode with scar hunting and killing state alchemists as we get flashbacks of ishbal. because yes, rose and the liorites being brown is relevant to the story being told here—and it's also impossible to ignore the direct parallels to american justifications of intervention in the war in iraq. this took place the same year, for fuck’s sake! so rose’s call of this is our home, we are the ones who get to deal with this mess—feels deeply relevant. and the tragedy here to me, rose’s greatest tragedy—is that she cites edward here, talking about using her own legs!!! because she did end up connecting to the brothers on a deeply personal level, while being unaware of ed’s role in the horrors happening to her, that are about to happen to her. like. my gd, the sheer ache of it.

so much has been said by 03 detractors about what happens to rose. for years i remember being calling 2003 evil and antifeminist and gross because it features the gang rape of a female character. and i have no idea how much of it is word of mouth about what actually happens in 03—lots of people seemed convinced that there was a graphic gang rape scene that was male gazey etc—but even those who know the reality that all of this is alluded to discreetly (we never see or hear her being assaulted, there isnt even a fade to black or direct aftermath!!!) have claimed that it's inherently bad for fma 03 to have a character who is explicitly a sexual violence survivor.

and like. that's flat out reactionary. i have no other words for it. this is just reactionary shit. acting like a female character being raped in the context of a war crime, in a story that explicitly about impeialist violence, is in itself evil and bad is just… saying that you think that even implicit depiction of sexual violence is bad and antifeminist (which says a lot about how you view victims lmao); but particularly ignoring the context of it and how subtly and sympathetically it's framed?? we never get a direct vision of rose being raped; we see the aftermath. she is traumatized and her voice has literally been silenced. she got pregnant and carried a baby from this assault, who is a walking reminder of what was done to her and by extension, liore. essentially 03 is saying that amestrian imperialist and racist violence includes all forms of violence, and people throw a fit over it just like they moan that the changes to scar in 03 are supposedly bad bc bla bla his whole point is that revenge is bad. meanwhile 03 again and again says: victims of imperialist violence and genocide are the ones who understand this violence best and they have every right to resist violently, no matter the excuses from the imperialist armies or how sympathetic/funny you find their soldiers to be.

so anyhow: there's definitely a horrific tragedy to rose in the last third of 03, and her ongoing victimisation and abuse. but it's also interesting to me because it parallels how ed is being manipulated/groomed by dante in entirely different ways. rose’s gang rape, the violence against her—essentially and tragically becomes a symbol of resistance there too. the forced pregnancy and the violence against her becomes a source of reverence from liorites who see her as their leader and guide, even as she was literally silenced. but despite what ed claims, and despite dante’s intervention, it's pretty clear in the show that rose has a degree of agency. she isnt being used by scar, though they're all being manipulated by dante to some degree—she is actively helping scar in his rallying the liorites and seeing a parallel between what was done to ishbalans and what was done to liorites. she is endorsing him knowingly when he makes his plan to murder amestrian soldiers for the stone. 03 treads this delicate balance of how yes, dante is controlling everyone—but what scar is doing *is* right and is presented as such narratively. i was told recently that in an interview the creators said they'd originally planned on ending the show in liore as full circle, but then they had all this other stuff to wrap up and didnt get their extra season/mini series to expand on munich and what eventually became cos. but it's fascinating ti me anyhow.

so, rose’s connection to ed—it feels less like deliberate romance, though yeah i do think that the romantic undernotes are deliberate—there’s definitely a tragedy to it. rose’s baby’s cries remind ed throughout his entire stay in liore that he is responsible for all this. but rose doesnt hate him for it, i think she recognizes that he was manipulated—the same way she had been in ep 1 and 2. she sees her own grief reflected in him. she stands up to wrath and reclaims her voice in a moment that's kinda corny but effective. i always get emo when dante is trying to scold ed and he ignores her to thank rose for saving him and being happy she got her voice back.

and then the last season—rose’s abuse is continued until the end. dante, in many ways, is the very incarnation of alchemy at its worse: seeing people as material, state alchemy as inherently dehumanizing people and things and classifying them in various degrees of inhumanity who can be safely Unpersoned and used. liorites and ishbalans among them. dante is partially responsible for amestris’s policies, and she sees rose, a girl victim of gang rape, and decides to groom her for her own purposes and to use her body as her own. and it's very much sexual in nature, a continual sexual use and abuse of Othered bodies (including rose's baby, used in her experimentations). and unlike in liore, where rose has a degree of agency, she is completely stripped from it by dante: presumably drugged.

it's not a coincidence if dante was putting rose and ed together in that ballroom. it's not just a callback to the two first eps and how far ed and rose have come of characters, what has been done to them; their paths as he, the white amestrian state alchemist that dante plans to groom as her romantic/sexual partner and student in alchemy, and she, the brown liorite girl who fought back every step and was brutalized and dehumanized to the extreme and to dante, is just another body to use and discard and rape—theyve always been intertwined. what ed did directly affected rose's life. now rose is offered as a “reward” to ed, if he chooses to continue as an alchemist in the way he's supposed to. it feels very….. anthy as the witch, while utena is given a princess’s dress and told she will be happily ever after with akio

but anyhow ed refuses. so dante gets rid of him. she lobotomizes gluttony. she punishes wrath and takes his limbs. she is literally having al consumed alive. rose is there, in shock at the events—theres an argument to be made that she could have been more active here tbh, but the last two eps are so cram full of stuff i guess they didnt have time. but anyhow… as soon as al sacrificed himself, dantes plans were moot, bc she really is that certain of other characters’ complete lack of agency and humanity! she just gawks stupidly. it's great. and then she leaves and just…. abandons rose.

so it's full circle again. ed al and rose and her baby. al is gone. ed is shattered. the baby cries, a reminder to ed that his actions have consequences. he asks rose one last thing: to go to resenbool—a place she'll be safe—and take wrath. likely she later changed her mind and returned and realized he lied to find al where he was. ed’s last words he hears from another person in amestris are the same words he told rose in episode 2. you've got two strong legs—you can survive, and go on. rose will survive. she will live, rebuild. she will find happiness after this horror, if she looks ahead. ed does not answer. he doesnt believe he can live without al, and chooses not to. he does the exact same thing rose did all these years ago: he chooses to believe, even if there's absolutely no reason he'll get what he want and even if it's more likely to end badly. and…. he's not rewarded for it. his brother is back, but without memories. ed loses his home forever. but it's significant that he eventually meets noah—she is not rose, but she looks like rose and is also from a marginalized group, and it would be silly to suggest that ed doesn't see rose in her. i find the liore section in cos deeply silly (why is the army there!!!) but it's significant to see rose play an active role in rebuilding her town, in building a new life after the horrors. the whole show, she's been a parallel to ed, an active resistant agent to amestrian violence, and the most significant victim of that violence to the point of bearing its physical traces.

do i wish we'd gotten more of her as an active agent afterwars? yes. do i wish to have seen the version where the show was supposed to culminate in liore? also yes. do i wish id seen her own feelings on what it was like to bear a child of rape and then being praised for it? a hundred percent. but again i wish for many things in 03. in part bc it was committing to giving me what bh wouldnt even dare to throw a bone about! but anyhow. i love rose

[veritas-scribblings]

card - @bartylusmicrofic - words: 555 [explicit / NSFW]

Barty has a fascination with Regulus’s hair, which is a black-brown and silky-soft, falling in loose curls, so perfect for running his fingers through. He has a fascination with Regulus’s eyes, which are an icy silver-grey, like mercury with the slightest hints of blue. He has a fascination with Regulus’s lips, which are soft and smooth, perfect for kissing and biting and sucking on. He has a fascination with Regulus’s tongue, which is razor sharp and delivers cuts and blows and severs lesser folk at the knees. Cripples them.

So, Barty kisses Regulus’s lips, nipping gently. Slides his tongue over Regulus’s, revelling at the taste and the feel. And he pushes Regulus to his knees so he can stare down into Regulus’s silver-grey eyes and he can comfortably run his fingers through Regulus’s silky-soft hair. And tuck the loose curls behind Regulus’s ears so he can look up at Barty, his view unobstructed, and appreciate how much Barty loves everything about how they are together.

Really, there is no part of Regulus that Barty does not love with every iota of his being. Regulus should be studied, catalogued, so he will forever be immortalised after he is long gone and Barty is long gone. So they might model every future incarnation of human after the perfect being that Regulus is.

Or maybe, maybe, Barty is too selfish for that. Too possessive. Maybe Barty should be the only one to know Regulus—he is the only one to know Regulus and feel Regulus and experience Regulus in such an intimate way—and maybe this knowledge, this experience, should die with Barty. 

Barty wraps his fingers around himself, works his fist up and down his length a few times before he guides his cock to Regulus’s soft-and-smooth-and-perfect-for-kissing lips and he slides inside. And—fuck. Just fuck. 

Barty has no words. He has no thought. He is only feeling and sensation and desire and lovelovelove. 

With a deep sigh, he tries to stay still to let Regulus adjust to the weight and the size and the length of him. Focuses on the feel of Regulus’s warm mouth and the way Regulus’s beautiful perfect-for-sucking-on lips look wrapped around him.

Regulus replies with a groan, the vibrations resonating through Barty, and takes him in deep until the head of Barty’s cock bumps against the back of his throat.

Shuddering, Barty exhales unevenly, not quite a sigh, not quite a moan. He leans back as Regulus swallows around him, tongue pressed against the underside of Barty’s cock. ‘Reg,’ he breathes, running his fingers through Regulus’s hair, trying desperately not to pull because Regulus hates that. 'Reg.'

Regulus pulls off until just the tip of Barty’s cock is between his lips, and then slides back down, sucking hard. And Sweet Salazar, Barty loves this. The warmth. The steady pressure. The knowledge that he might leave a little piece of himself inside Regulus so they might merge their being into one, become BartyRegulus and RegulusBarty.

He cards his fingers through Regulus’s hair again, cradling the back of his head to guide him in closer. Rocking his hips just a little because he can never help himself.

And he thinks, the satisfaction and pleasure huge and alive in his chest, that he is the only one who knows Regulus like this. The only one who has been inside Regulus like this.

And yes, the knowledge should definitely die with him. There will be no other Regulus’s in the world. He will not allow Regulus to be studied and catalogued and immortalised. He will not allow him to be known and experienced. Not by anyone other than himself.

He will keep Regulus entirely to his selfish, selfish self.