#like honestly what would YOU have done? without the knowledge that you have from being a spectator

[liltumgrum]

There are two major things that are ripping me up about Kaladin leaving to become a herald.

And I don’t mean how it was predicable.

The first is the general lack of knowledge of what happened to him. Szeth doesn’t even know. His parents will never know how they lost their son again. Orodin will never know why his big brother he just met disappeared. What’s left of bridge 4 will think their Captain finally was beaten. No one knows he’s not actually dead. His body died and was all that was left behind as a clue. It looks like he *failed* almost. Kaladin has had a way of inspiring people to believe in the impossible since he was in his mid to late teens. And now when everything in their world has fallen, this almost divine figure has a well. He was such a symbol to hope to so many people only for him to seemingly die without anyone even awake to witness.

This is less sad to his character and more so for the population of human free from Retribution

Second, and worst of all in my opinion, is the people he left beind.

In this I’m not actually talking about Bridge 4 or his family who he did get closure with in some way. Specifically I’m thinking of Szeth, Adolin, and Shallan. He was what? Szeth’s first actual friend? For like 8 days? And Szeth buried his corpse. Adolin and Shallan refused to say goodbye. They haven’t out grown him in the same way others had. They saw him as he was, vulnerable, when others didn’t.

I’m not saying that it’s impossible for them to have that drink together, but unless Kal figures out how to do freaky shit in the cognitive realm or someone yanks the heralds back to roshar before their ready, it seems really unlikely. Ishar said that time passes significantly faster on roshar than where they are. Kaladin said the heralds have time to heal. He just…. Doesn’t seem to be planning on coming back in time for Adolin or Shallan to still be alive. He won’t get to be the friend to Adolin that Adolin was to him. He won’t get to joke and commiserate with Shallan with no weird feelings between them. He doesn’t get to be proud of them for what they’ve done while they were separated. And they know nothing but that this time. This one final time. He didn’t come back.

That hurts me.

That isn’t to say however that I think it was out of character or easy for Kaladin to leave. One crucial thing about his character that has always been true is this: Kaladin cannot, and will not walk away from someone in front of him that needs help. That moment and that need takes president over all else. He just has decided he’s going to deal with the consequences of his choice. No matter how steep. Being there for the people that had literally no one else: szeth, the heralds, Syl and every single spren was worth the loss. He chose it and he’s going to see it through.

On a side note I can totally see why people thought the therapy talk was a little hit over the head and clunky. I would have like to see him fumble his words more. Which maybe says something about me bc he fumbled a lot. But honestly I’m just impressed at him for pushing himself to talk so much. I mean can you image the grunting guy in WoR talking half as much as he does in WaT?

I think the message was prioritized more for setting him up as a herald than it was meant to feel super natural. Which is unfortunate but I don’t personally care that much. -_(o_o)_-

[grimalkinmessor]

Once more frustrated by people seeing Light's various moves as stupid because they're looking at it from a point of omniscience and not from the perspective of Light himself and the information he had access to :')

[artytaeh]

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

THEODORE NOTT— a popular slytherin, an introvert at heart, despite his reputation as a womanizer. theodore nott, who has a big, terrible communication problem.

with the pure terror of displaying his vulnerable emotions, theodore smokes cigarettes to force his emotions to disappear with the wind; bites his inner lip and cheek until his mouth bleeds, so no tears threaten to make way to his eyes.

when theodore nott cries, he stares blankly into the wall. he doesn't sob— sobbing would make him even weaker, more vulnerable, less capable and definitely useless, in his father's eyes.

silent tears are the epitome of theodore's sadness, because other than that, his sadness, stress and troubled thoughts are never known. hidden by a mask of stoic expressions.

theodore nott is 'stupid' smart. if he wasn't a slytherin at heart and soul, then he'd be a ravenclaw, or at least that's what the professors comment amongst them. theo enjoys reading, and would easily spend his afternoon on a silent, vacant corner of the castle, devouring a book in few hours.

he lies, saying that it's simply because knowledge is a good weapon. he'd be saying the truth, if theodore confesses that he reads this much, because whether be it fiction or not, he can escape his thoughts to fully concentrate on the book's contents.

theodore nott is knowledgeable, theodore nott is a good, straight-A's student. theodore nott is quick-witted; you wouldn't want to banter with him, because usually, he gets the last word with a victorious, cheeky smile— an insufferable cocky grin.

and yet, shamefully, theodore nott has no idea how to verbalize his feelings.

every good liar is like this, he'd argue. in exchange of spilling the most atrocious lies with a straight face and nonchalant tone, theodore finds it awfully hard to tell the truth.

ask him what's wrong— you can do that, sure. now, if theodore will answer you, that's another story. and to give you a genuine answer, if he doesn't snap? then an angel must have fallen down its altar.

then, if he can't verbalize or trust anyone, not even mattheo riddle or lorenzo berkshire on a good day— what does theodore nott do, to deal with his full mind and empty heart?

theodore nott destroys.

he destroys other living beings,

being the first one to join mattheo riddle, with a smile on his face, when his best friend snaps at the smallest hint of disrespect. throwing a (not really) deserved punch at a guy that honestly, if you ask him afterwards, theodore has no idea what he done wrong.

when lorenzo scolds mattheo for starting a fight and reprimands theodore for indulging it, the slytherin simply shrugs. he's "looking out for his bro", he says. that's only partially true, as much as he deeply cares for mattheo.

everytime that he starts fights, like a rabid dog. theodore doesn't really know when he stopped being il dolce ragazzo of his madre. when he became a dog that bites without thinking about barking first. "so much for claiming to be the logical one," — lorenzo muses.

... he destroys himself.

which would explain the concerning amount of muggle, wizarding, flavored, all shaped packs of cigarettes he owns. there isn't a brand that he didn't try, at least once— the more harmful, the better.

smoking until his lungs become as black as his heart, as his dark thoughts. smoking, until he drops dead with his worries. smoking, until theodore nott becomes a better man (something that he doubts he could do, for he was born a broken man— born from a couple that should have never crossed paths with each other).

consequently, damaging his hands. skin that becomes calloused and slightly scarred from the cigarettes. knuckles constantly bruised from throwing punches at gryffindors or smartass ravenclaws.

so, theodore nott starts believing that he's unlovable. that loving him— oh, that would be torture. pure masochism, that he wouldn't wish to anyone, not even the witch he dislikes or rolls his eyes at the most.

and that becomes a creeping fear of his. oh, theodore is terrified, when the thought of becoming like his father plagues his mind.

to think that he'd become such a disgusting man, the man who brought so much pain to his mother, that killed the only person who truly loved him.

what would his mother say, if she saw him like this?

would she be disappointed, would she be ashamed to even spare a look at him? would her beautiful porcelain face become a frown, would she walk away, disgusted?

theodore consumes three more cigarettes on that thought alone.

... or would she give him a sympathetic look, gazing at her dolce, bravo ragazzo with those tender eyes of hers? a shade of blue, that theodore was fortunate to inherit.

a sad smile makes its way to his lips. because now, even for a brief moment, theo is himself again. he's not a casanova slytherin, he's not the heir of the nott family. theodore nott is simply his mother's little boy, her teddy.

in honor of such bittersweet memories, theo drops his cigarette and doesn't smoke for at least 24 hours.

theo doesn't know how to deal with comfort. genuinely tender touches, fingertips grazing his skin so lightly—

of desperately needy, lustful touches, he knows. he knows them very well, from all those times he slept with a woman, ruined her for the next guy. from the times a slytherin girl gripped and pushed his hair, needing, begging more of his mouth on her; or when a gryffindor got so lost in pleasure that she left the mark of her nails on his back; when a hufflepuff senior clenched her fingers on his torso, hips and shoulders, screaming for more, deeper, faster; that time when he found a way to shut up a particularly insufferable ravenclaw know-it-all by fucking her mouth, and when he felt the back of her throat on him, the stubborn ravenclaw gripped, scratched, protested on his thighs.

of harsh, violent, cruel, merciless touches, everytime mr. nott decided that a disgusted, disappointed gaze wasn't enough to educate his son. when those knuckles adorned with rings curled into a fist, and theodore was beaten into discipline. all those times he started fights and consequently got hit by a punch or two, even though theodore is a good fighter, and makes sure that even if he does get hurt, the receiving end is in worse state, in need of more than one night in the infirmary wing.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

... but comforting, meant to soothe, gentle touches? oh, theo is terrified of them. rather than flinching away from a fist coming his way, theo looks like a scaredy cat when fingers come to brush his hair away from his face, with all the love and care of the world.

theo doesn't know those touches. to be fair, yes, he was acquainted with them once— but that was long, long ago, when his mother was still alive. a life ago, really, because sometimes theodore wonders if he's the same teddy he once was, under the protective but loving arms of his mother.

so at first, theo panics when you hug him, when you physically bring comfort to his broken, damaged heart.

but then?

then, after he gets a taste of how heavenly it feels to be held by someone he loves? then, theo embraces the fact that he is indeed a touch starved man. then, theo completely and shamelessly melts under your touch, relaxing in your embrace, wishing to never leave this safe haven.

( or maybe he does. a little voice on the back of his mind, menacingly suggesting that this safe haven, this loving harbor — you — might disappear into thin air by the cruel hands of his father, the same he did with his mother. )

but before his truly prodigious brain dares to overthink once again— your hands comb through his hair, brushing it back along with his worries, massaging the scalp and melting the troubled thoughts away. that's when theo closes his eyes. that's when he, finally, is in peace with himself.

and if you'd ask him; this is when and where theodore nott is the happiest. this is when theodore nott is teddy again.

౨ৎ these voices in my head screaming ♡ ͡

run now. i'm praying that they're human . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— my motivation? it's a silly little drabble, about my favorite slytherin. theodore nott deserves love, seriously.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[vivi4nn4]

Could you maybe do the brothers reaction to mc being terrified (or terrorized but some other demon whatever you come up with) and running PAST another brother going straight for him. Like he's THE safe space?? Thank you for your writing service

yes my lovely I think this request is so so cute! And honestly I think this is one of the worst works I’ve done so far but I have hope that maybe it’s not that bad but I apologise if it isn’t the best the more lower down the brothers I got the more I realised they become out of character but enjoy! (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

The brothers reaction to being your safe space 𝜗𝜚 ⊹₊ ⋆

lucifer ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— lucifer as the sin of pride will be so pleased with himself he will go the whole day feeling high n mighty of himself

— lucifer will definitely protect you no matter what happened just like the rest of his brothers so no need to worry

— he loves , even adores the fact that you view him as your saviour n safe space it makes his pride shoot up his arse n out of his head

— he’s definitely going to use this knowledge to his advantage n in his favour the fact you choose him over anyone else

mammon ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— mammon would do anything to protect u n to keep u safe

— but seeing you run past his brothers n go straight to him gives him a funny feeling of happiness n satisfaction knowing you pick him

— he will definitely use it against you saying stuff like “ you picked me bcs im your first mammon “ “ obviously you knew the great mammon was the best brother “ “ the great mammon will always help you “

— on the other hand he will definitely laugh at you n poke fun for being scared

leviathan ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— leviathan would be so surprised he always thought that he would never be the one that you would run to for help

— all of his envy about the other brothers being your saviour n not him flew right out of his head

— not the mention how happy he would be in the inside he would be screaming like a fan girl knowing you choose him

— but that doesn’t mean he’s the best at it no no leviathan is middle ground he is sorta good at protecting you n knows that’s what he wants to do but doesn’t mean he is the best to do that job

— leviathans self doubt gets in the way a lot n this situation is no expectation but he will try his best!

satan ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— satan will be so happy that you chose him n he will your protecter forever

— Satan does everything to be there for you whenever you need wirh a hug or whatver else you want

— he will definitely stick up for you no matter who or what it is or what situation is happening

asmodeus ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— asmodeus is so full of himself after you choose him he definitely does round with a pep in his step for the rest of his week

— but after saving you he wants to be rewarded by going shopping or doing your makeup since he’s been so brave by protected you!

— asmodeus is definitely like leviathan he can protect you n will without hesitation but he’s definitely doesn’t go about it in the best way but don’t second guess him he is the 5th brother for a reason!

beelzbub ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— beelzbub oh beelzbub he is definitely the best choice , his kind nature , his big heart, his strength he is a protecter made from birth

— he did fight in the celestial war n he was a warrior and that pays off

— beelzbub would be so happy n his heart melts knowing you see him as a safe space n your protecter over his other brothers

— he’s an absolute sweetheart n will do anything for you you melt his heart in so many ways! But don’t underestimate him he is one if not the strongest of the brothers

belphegor ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— belphegor is lazy as we know but he will protect you don’t doubt it but in the most laziest way possible unless something that has angered him has happened then he’s ready n riled up

— even tho he is the sin of sloth don’t underestimate his power

— he will definitely laugh n make a joke to you about how you were scared ect he just loves seeing your flustered face

[orcasoul]

Broken Part 2

Summary: Din is on the brink of death. The only way to save him is to remove his helmet. Surely he'll understand and forgive you... right?

Warnings: Swearing, description of injuries, angst, established relationship, use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4,564

It has been one month since Din left you as a sobbing mess on Sorgan. One month since he'd had anything resembling a good night's sleep, haunted every time he closes his eyes by the image of your devastated face and shaking frame. Please Din, please don't this! echoing on a loop in his mind. He did what needed to be done, so why can't he seem to move on? He has regained his creed, by the grace of the Living Waters, you're safe, you have friends and a new place to start over. That knowledge should be enough to to ease his conscience, so why can't he let you go?

Why does he suffer every day with crushing guilt and endless longing to see you, touch you, laugh with you? Of course he's not the only one suffering. Grogu cried for three days straight when Din told him you wouldn't be coming back. Even now Grogu seems forlorn. He's quieter than usual, not showing much interest in his toys, not constantly harassing the poor froggy's in his pond. Din tried everything he could think of to distract him, but it was futile. Grogu misses you, and in truth, so does Din. Work has been slow for the past couple of weeks, meaning once Din has dropped Grogu off at school, he's had nothing but time to ruminate on the events that led to this.

Had he been too harsh? Maybe, but although he's consumed by guilt - and a part of him wants to run to you, forgive you and hold you - he still can't see how he'll ever be able to trust you again, trust you to make difficult decisions when necessary. His heart and his mind are being pulled in two different directions. He can't take this anymore. He needs to clear his head. Getting up from the settee, he places his helmet on his head before walking out of the door to visit the one non Mandalorian friend he has on Nevarro.

The evening sun drenches Sorgan in a warm, golden hue, rays of sunlight gleaming off the krill ponds, shadows of huts and trees elongating as the sun slowly begins it's decent beyond the horizon. The evening had always been your favourite time of day on any planet. Taking time to relax and unwind after a long day was always something you'd look forward to, but not anymore. The evening heralds the approaching night, and night time is when the tears come. When the loneliness and sorrow become too much to bare and manifest in unbridled anguish and weeping. Omera has been a liferaft in a tumultuous ocean for you, allowing you to cry until you'd exhausted yourself and always ready to offer advice and support as your poured your aching heart out.

You honestly don't know what you would've done without her this past month. You'd told her everything the day Din left you in pieces and a part of you worried that she'd be disappointed in you too, but she showed nothing but understanding, adding that in a situation like that, anyone would do the same. Some nights were easier than other's to endure. Night's when your toilworn body had no choice but to succumb to sleep after spreading yourself too thin. More work meant less time to think and a greater chance of sleeping through the night.

Tonight wasn't one of those nights. The harvest had been collected and the krills had been salted and stored away, which meant for the past two days there had been a lot less work to occupy your mind. Tonight is the village festival, a chance for the community to come together and celebrate the rewards of everyone's hard work. As the orange and pink sky turned to dusk, bonfires were lit throughout the village, a signal of the beginning of the festivities. Banners and streamers hung between huts, log seats and blankets placed around each bonfire, the aromas of different delicacy's wafted from the stalls, reaching every corner of the village and the cool night air came alive with cheerful music.

Children laughed and played, people danced, friends gathered around the fires, enjoying Spotchka, everyone immersed in the exuberant atmosphere. It's moments like this that somewhat lightened your spirits, even if it is temporary. Omera sat beside you by the fire, handing you a cup of Spotchka. "Thanks," you smiled at your friend. "So, how are you enjoying your first harvest festival?" You look at Omera with a soft gaze. "It's great. I love seeing how everyone comes together. It's..." you sigh, "It's a rare thing these days."

And that's true, considering the larger, more metropolitan worlds you've visited seem to have lost all sense of community, everyone too caught up in their own lives, rushing from A to B without a second thought for their neighbours. "It is?" Omera seemed surprised by your answer, but of course she'd never left Sorgan, so this life is all she's known. "Yeah, a lot of people in the galaxy these days tend to keep to themselves, look out for number one." Omera grimaced at the thought of that kind of existence. "I'd hate to live like that." "Yeah, you're lucky here. This place is..." you look around at the heartwarming scene in front of you, one of camaraderie, belonging. "This place is special."

Omera placed a hand on your shoulder. "You mean we're lucky here. This is your home too now." Tears well up in your eyes but you blink them back and look at your feet. While you deeply appreciate what the village has done for you, this could never truly be home. Home is inside the hearts of the two people you love the most in this whole universe. A home you'll never see again. "Mama, Y/N!" Winta comes bounding over to you both, a huge grin lighting up her face. "I made these for you." She placed two little daisy crowns on both your heads.

"Thank you, sweetie. It's beautiful," Omera gushed and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Aww, thank you," you smiled softly. You've grown very fond of Winta over the past month, her happy disposition reminding you so much of Grogu. "I'll wear this proudly all night." With a giggle she turned and ran back to her friends. You watch her laughing and skipping with some of the other kids, and you feel your heart warm at the sight. Your mood quickly shifts, though, when your attention is caught by a toddler (no older than two) running into the waiting arms of his mum and dad.

Watching the sweet embrace, the joy and love so openly displayed sends a wave of pain straight through your heart. So many times Grogu had ran to you and Din like that, like you were both the centre of his universe. If you'd known that life would end, you would have held onto them both and never let go. The familiar numbness you'd been battling over the past month returns, sinking deep into your stomach. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you place your cup down and stand up. "You okay?" Omera asks. "Yeah I... I just need to clear my head. I'll be right back," you try to say casually, hoping Omera didn't notice the slight quaver in your voice.

The outskirts of the village is a little quieter, a little less overwhelming. Finding a boulder you slump down onto it, dipping your face into your hands. You inhale deeply then look up at the cosmos, wondering what Din and Grogu are doing this very moment. Are they well? Do they miss you as much as you do them? You're one hundred percent certain that Grogu misses you, but Din? Well, you can't be too sure anymore. You can't be sure of anything anymore when it comes to Din. He'd told you time and again that he loved you, but if that were true, why did he leave you instead of talking to you, instead of giving you a chance to make amends?

Maybe you'd been foolish this whole time. Maybe you loved -love- him more than he's ever loved you. Of course these thoughts had been swirling around your brain, relentlessly hounding you since that day, and you're still no closer to clarification, except for one harsh truth; that you're expendable, meaningless and not worthy of love, if the one person you'd trusted the most could just turn his back on you. A pained sob breaks free as you bury your face in your hands. In all your years nothing had ever hurt as much as this! Will this feeling lesson over time, granting you the opportunity to to learn to live with it, or will you have to face this bleak void for the rest of your life?

So lost are you in your all consuming spiral that you don't notice the screams at first. It's only when the unmistakable echos of blaster fire ring out that you leap to your feet like a startled Porg. Your immediate thoughts are for your friends. "Omera! Winta!" you scream as you run into the village. It's absolute chaos! Red streaks fly through the air, people screaming in panic as the attackers gain the upper hand. Some women run to nearby huts with their children while other's are being rounded up. The men are fighting back, but without any firearms they stand no chance. 'Winta, Omera! Where are you?!" You push through the throng of panicking people, desperately to catch sight of them amidst the mayhem. It's no use. In the dark and the rush of bodies you can't see them anywhere. "Win- arrrgh!" You hit the ground hard, a white hot burn tearing across your lower back and side. You push yourself up, gasping at the pain and, knowing there's nothing more you can do, you run.

Stumbling through the dark woods with only the moonlight to guide you, your mind tries to make sense of what just happened. Your lungs burn as you push through the woodland. You don't know where you're gong but you keep moving, until your legs can't take it anymore. A sharp pang jolts through your knees as you land on them, sweating and gasping for air. Dizziness and nausea sweep over you like a wave and you dig your fingers into the damp soil to ground yourself. As your breathing becomes less frantic, your head clears, and thats when you feel a warm wetness running down your thigh, soaking your trousers and making them stick to you.

You reach a hand around to where the pain radiates from and when you pull away, you squint at the dark, thick liquid staining your hand. The moonlight isn't bright enough to give you a clear view so you bring your hand to your nose, praying your suspicions are wrong. Your sense of smell is instantly overwhelmed by a strong metallic scent. Blood! "Fuck!" you groan quietly. I've been shot! You begin to tremble as you realise just how dire your situation has become. The sudden sounds of snapping and rustling has you jerking your head in it's direction. Voices follow the noises, telling each other to scour the woodland for any escapees. With a silent groan you force yourself to your feet and keep running.

For the past couple of days, Din has been in mental torture. His visit to Karga hadn't gone the way he'd planned. All he'd wanted was a new bounty to keep his mind off you, but instead he'd been given some harsh truths. And the more he thinks about the conversation, the more he realises what a grievous mistake he has made, his mind constantly replaying the moment he'd had some sense knocked into him.

"Mando!" Greef Karga exclaimed enthusiastically while rising from his desk. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Din clasped his friends' arm and sat down opposite him. "I'm looking for more work." "Straight to the point as usual," Karga chuckled. "I've got a few bounty pucks, but to be honest the reward is so low it probably wouldn't even cover fuel." Din sighed and sat back in the chair. "Anyway, what's the rush? Your last two jobs paid handsomely. Why not take some time off and relax?" "I don't need to relax," Din replied, curtly, his shoulders stiffening with tension. Karga raised an eyebrow at Din's clipped response. "So, uh... how's the little one doing?"

Just the mention of Grogu helped to relax Din's tense posture. "He's good," Din answered, with a hint of affection in his voice. "He's been making new friends at school." Karga smiled at that, then clasped his hands together on the desk in front of him, focusing entirely on the black T of Din's helmet. "And how are you?" Din shrugged, "I'm fine." Karga just kept his gaze, fixing Din with a questioning look. "What?" Din asked awkwardly. "You're not doing yourself any favours by bottling everything up, you know." Din shifted uncomfortably, fists clenching as Karga continued. "Sooner or later it'll all catch up with you and -" "I said I'm fine," Din snapped.

"No you're not fine, Mando! You haven't been 'fine' since you left Y/N on Sorgan. You think I haven't noticed how distracted you've been lately?" Karga sighed and lowered his tone. "The only time you seem okay is when you're around the kid, but even then, I can't help but suspect it's a front. Just go to her. You obviously miss her. Din shook his head and let out long exhale. "Of course I miss her, but it's not that simple. "Why?" Karga asked, clearly confused, "You've redeemed yourself. You have your creed-" "It's not about the creed," Din interrupted in frustration, "It's about trust. I trusted her completely."

"Mando-" karga began but Din continued, "She went against my wishes and disrespected the creed and myself, even if it was to save my life. It was a ... selfish thing she did." Karga's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "Selfish?!" "Yes! She said she couldn't lose me. She only thought about how she would feel, so yes, she was selfish." Karga pressed his lips into a thin line, shaking his head as he did so. "Mando, you're my friend so I'm going to be blunt. That's Bantha shit!!" Din jerked back at Karga's sudden outburst. "She saved your life, knowing that doing so could end with you hating her. She knew what she was risking by removing your helmet, and it wasn't just losing you, but Grogu too. She sacrificed everything so you could live, even if she could no longer be a part of your lives. That is the most selfless thing I've ever heard of."

Din is speechless. He'd been so consumed by, what he'd seen as a betrayal, that he hadn't stopped to consider what it would have really meant for you to let him die. You loved him so much that you'd risked losing everything, just for him. The sudden clarity made his stomach churn and chest tighten under the weight of such a revelation. What the hell had he done?! "I... I never thought of it like that," Din faltered as regret swept through him. "Maybe it's not too late. I'm sure you'll do the right thing," Karga smiled sincerely. Din stood quickly; he needed to get out of there, needed space to think clearly. "Thank you," Din nodded at his friend and rushed outside.

For two days Din had been obsessing over how he can fix everything, but what could he say to excuse his behaviour? Would you forgive him? He couldn't blame you if you wouldn't. He doesn't deserve it. He feels sick to his stomach knowing the pain he's put both you and Grogu through. He has to see you, even if you won't forgive him, he needs you to know how sorry he is and how much he still loves you. Din is brought out of his thoughts by the blinking of his holoprojector, a quick press of the button revealing Greef Karga's hazy image. "Mando," Karga began, "I've just received communication from Captain Carson Teva. He has a proposition for you. I need to discuss this with you in person. Can you come to the office ASAP? It's important."

Din frowned as Karga's image disappeared. He could tell from his voice that something was very wrong. Din slipped his helmet on and made his way to the office. Upon arrival, Din was met with a very somber looking Karga. This can't be good, Din surmised internally. "Thank you for coming in, Mando," Greef said, stretching out an arm for Din to sit. "You said you have work for me from Captain Teva?" Din asked as he took a seat. "Yes... uh, he's had confirmed reports that an organisation of Spice runners have taken control of a planet in a nearby system. There have also been reports of fatalities and enslavement of the local people. As the Planet is part of the Outer Rim Territories," -Din bristled at that, hoping Karga isn't going to say what he thinks he's going to say- "It's not exactly a top priority for the over stretched republic officers. That's why Captain Teva has requested the help of allies nearby. He'll pay 30,000 Galactic Credits."

"Okay..." Din replied, hesitantly, a knot forming in his stomach. Greef closed his eyes and sighed. "Mando..." he looked back up. "It happened on Sorgan. Din's heart dropped to his stomach as the words he didn't want to hear washed over him. He could barely breathe, fear and disbelief choking his airways. The room began to spin and Din had to grip the edge of the desk to steady himself. "When did this happen?" Din pressed, trying to calm his racing mind. "Two days ago, Nevarro time." Din's jaw dropped under his helmet. "Two days!" All this time you'd needed him and he knew nothing of it.

Maker knows what could have become of you in the past two days, that's if you're still- no! He can't even entertain that possibility. You're alive! You're alive and he'll come for you. "Tell Captain Teva I'm on my way!" Din spun around, ready to high tail it out of there, but then stopped abruptly. In his panic he'd completely forgotten about Grogu. Karga raised a hand, already knowing what Din was about to say. "Go. Find her. I'll get the kid from school and he can stay with me until you return." "Thank you," Din replied and ran out of the room.

You're cold, so bloody cold. The icy chill seems to be coming from inside your very bones, your entire body trembling uncontrollably, while a constant layer of sweat coats your skin. The only respite you get is when you lose consciousness. At this point, though, you're not sure what's real and what's not, how often you've woken and how often you've been dreaming becoming harder to distinguish between. After managing to stop the bleeding with a strip of your shirt, you forced yourself onwards until you came across a small cave, finally collapsing in an exhausted heap.

Time has now become meaningless. Maybe you've been here for minutes, maybe hours; there's no way to know. What you do know, even in your delirious state, is that you're in serious trouble, and if you don't get help soon... well, it's game over. Dying alone on a freezing cave floor wasn't how you ever envisioned yourself going out. Every breath is becoming difficult and every slight movement sends a burning jolt through your abdomen. Slowly, you slip back into the calm.

The fight didn't last long, if it could even be called that. Along with Captain Teva and his men and several other mercenaries, Din wasted no time in obliterating every one of those low life drug runners and freeing the villagers from bondage. Families and friends cried happy tears as they embraced each other, others crying over the loss of a loved one, and an abundance of gratitude and praise was offered up to the liberators. It was a moment of immense joy and relief. However, Din felt none of it as he scanned the crowd. Where the hell are you? he asked himself again and again. With every passing minute Din's composure threatened to shatter.

"Have you seen Y/N anywhere?!" he asked repeatedly as more and more villagers approached him to thank him, every one of them confirming they hadn't seen you. Worry and frustration began to boil within until Din felt like he was going to explode. "Mando!" a sweet little voice cried out, catching Din's attention and pulling him from his imminent spiral. Small arms wrapped around his waist and a head of dark hair nuzzled into his stomach. "Winta." Din gasped in relief, returning her embrace. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" Winta looked up with a big grin. "I'm okay. You saved us, thank you!"

Din crouched down to Winta's level, gently holding on to her arms. "Where's your mother? Where's Y/N?" he asked, trying to remain calm. "Mama's over there," winta pointed behind her to where Omera was quickly walking through the crowd towards him. "Mando..." Omera smiled, relief swimming in her brown eyes. "What are you doing here?" "I heard what happened and I had to come. Where is she?" Omera's face dropped at Din's question, taking his heart along with it. "Omera?..." Din hesitated, almost afraid to ask again but he needed to know. "Where's Y/N?"

"I don't know," Omera shook her head while tucking Winta into her side. "I haven't seen her since the attack." Din's chest seized, Omera's confirmation that you weren't there making his stomach swirl with dread. "I can't be sure, it was dark, but I think I saw her run into the woods." A glimmer of hope! "Which way?" Omera pointed to the tree line behind him, tears building in her eyes. "Please bring her back, Mando," she sniffled. "I will," Din declared with determination, placing a reassuring hand on Omera's shoulder. "I promise!" Then Din turned, sprinting towards the forrest as fast as his legs could carry him.

It didn't take Din long to spot the tell tale signs of disturbance once he'd entered the forrest. Broken branches on bushes, flattened vegetation, and most importantly, footprints. Several different tracks criss crossed the damp soil, some human, some not. Most of the human prints where too big to be you, so Din could easily rule them out, along with the non human tracks. The tracks that caught his attention, though, were sporadic, indicating that whoever they belonged to was in a hurry, but also Physically impaired as the trail was often interrupted by signs of dragging, which could only mean the tracks' owner had stumbled multiple times in their haste to keep moving.

Din swallowed down his rising anxiety at the thought of you being injured, scared and alone. Now's not the time to fall apart. Keep it together, for her! Fortifying himself, Din pushed forward, certain he's on the right path. He engaged the heat signature function in his helmet. It would be useless to track your footsteps now, the heat in them long gone, but if you're in the vicinity, he would easily spot your body heat. Din moved in stealthy silence as he would while tracking quarries, acutely aware of his surroundings. Only this time the stakes were much higher.

Your life is in his hands now. He can't fail you; he wont! He follows the tracks for several more minutes, analysing every minute detail. Rounding the corner of a bush Din stops dead, his muscles freezing as he stares at the ground. There in a patch of dried blood is the beaded bracelet Grogu had made for you in school. He'd recognise it anywhere. His legs turn to jelly and he drops to his knees. Hand trembling he picks it up. Bile rises up his throat at the sight of your blood. It suddenly becomes all too real. This confirms it; you're hurt. You needed him and he wasn't there. Pocketing the bracelet, Din rises to his full height. "Y/N?!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, his body turning in every direction. "Y/N! Where are you?!"

He's met with nothing but the sounds of the forrest and his echoing, modulated voice. "If you can hear me, call out, please!" The last word came out as a desperate plea. Nothing. A thorough scan of the area reveals no body heat signature but you have to be close. The tracks keep going and so does Din. The more he presses on, the more blood he discovers littering the trail. So determined he'd been about finding you, that he'd didn't stop to think about what condition he'd find you in. Would you even be alive? Din shakes the abhorrent thought from his mind.

You're alive. Surely he'd have felt it in his gut if you weren't. Din has become a man possessed, his only mission now is to find you, hold you in his arms and never let any harm befall you ever again. He stalks on, following the tracks for another quarter of a mile until the trail brings him to the mouth of a small cave. This has to be it! With renewed hope, Din charges into the cave, calling your name into the chilled air.

A series of violent shivers jerk you awake, and with consciousness comes the torturous pain spreading along your side. A trickle of sunlight filters down from a hole in the cave ceiling, bathing part of the area in a warm yellow glow. You groan as everything begins to spin in your vision, shutting your eyes in an attempt to ease the nausea trying to climb up you throat. It's hopeless; you know that now. With every waking moment a little more of your strength ebbs away. Your mind wonders to Din and Grogu. Even if you never physically see them again, at least you'll die seeing them in your memories.

A wistful smile tugs at your mouth as you imagine the antics your precious boy is probably up to at this moment, but your smile slowly drops, sadness settling deep within as the image of Din -both with and without his helmet- comes to the forefront of your mind. You'll die now, without the chance to tell him one last time how much he means to you, and that even though he broke your heart, you forgive him. You hadn't even realised until now that your face is wet, tears running down the temples of your head and into your hairline behind your ears.

"Y/N? !Y/N?! Cyar'ika are you in here?!" Din's frantic voice cuts through your silent despair. It sounds strange, almost as if he's under water. So close, yet so far away. How cruel of your mind to play tricks on you now. You hear the call of your name again, closer and clearer this time. In your disorientation, you turn your head in the direction of the voice. The last thing you see before darkness swallows you again is the gleam of sunlight reflecting off a fast moving mass of silver and black.

Part 3

[salmalin]

My sincerest apologies and warmest welcome to my rant about FF7: Crisis Core. Or, as I like to call it,

Propaganda: The Video Game

I say this with the utmost affection. Crisis Core ranks really high up there in my favorite Final Fantasy 7 installments. I played it when it first came out, borrowing it from a friend to play on a borrowed PSP. And, the more I learn about the game and the more I replay it, the more everything lines up.

This game is not about Zack Fair.

This game is about how Capitalistic Propaganda can sink into every aspect of life to the point where it is entirely indistinguishable from reality. And it’s very overt about it. So…

Here we go.

My treatise on Propaganda’s starring role in Crisis Core.

Part One: The Timeline

Something that a lot of people gloss over due to decades of Child Heroes in media—Japanese Shonen and Shoujo series in particular—is how young these protagonists are. We’ll hand-wave a lot of stuff in non-live-action series with just a little bit of suspension of disbelief. And that’s honestly just accepted these days. But here’s the thing about those hand-waves.

Final Fantasy 7 doesn’t do that.

Now, FF7 hand-waves a lot of stuff. For example, how far you can travel in a day by foot, the distance a man weighing approximately 165lbs can jump after being genetically fused with what might as well be a cocaine demon (Jenova), and how much hairspray one can reasonably carry on a cross-country journey while on the run from the feds.

Age is not one of them.

Exhibit A: Yuffie Kisaragi.

Do I really need to say more? She acts her age. So does Zack. And Aerith, even. Most of the characters in the original lineup were over twenty for a good reason. We see several kids in the series, and they all act their age, too—both the OG and the remake. Age is not a thing that FF7 really grapples with. It’s something they take relatively seriously.

Now, to the point.

Zack is 16 when Crisis Core starts…

… and he was 13 when he ran away from home without his parents’ knowledge to join the military.

Which accepted him.

At 13.

Without a parental permission slip.

Think about that for a second.

… Or for the next several parts of this breakdown.

Part Two: The Main Character

As I mentioned in the introduction, Zack is not the main character of the events of Crisis Core. Instead, he is the focal point of the second person POV. This is not the first time Square has done this. It was done most notably with FF9, FF10, and FF12. (I’m not going to go on an Akira Kurosawa rant right now, but please check out his film “The Hidden Fortress”. FF12 and Star Wars episodes 4-6 borrow heavily from this film.) The purpose and position of this character is such that they might best witness the effects the other characters make on the world as their stories unfold, usually in the role of a love interest. For Akira Kurosawa, it may have been told this way because these people are most effected by the decisions being made.

“Well, then, Sal,” you may be asking, “who would you say is the main character? Would that be Aerith, since she’s the love interest, like in the other games?”

No, actually.

It’s the antagonist.

And by that, I mean Genesis.

Hear me out. I used to hate Genesis, for I was once young, full of judgement for flamboyancy (thanks, internalized homophobia), and was led by the narrative to believe he was mean to his friends. Then I met my Lovely beta who loved him, so I wrote a fic for her as a gift. So for that I kinda just… read stuff. Because that’s the thing about Propaganda—you gotta read stuff to navigate it. I read the in-game emails. I re-watched all the scenes I could get my hands on with him. I read his wiki and tried to track down more information about him. Then I watched the scenes in Japanese and gained a better understanding of not just Genesis, but Sephiroth’s character. And I realized that Genesis was put on this road from the start. In fact, a big part of the fact that he’s seen the way he is in Canon—only at his most hostile and lowest points—is because the story is told through Zack’s point of view.

So before we get into the breakdown, here’s the hard facts about Genesis.

1. He was a test tube baby who may or may not technically be Angeal’s fraternal twin brother, which we are not going to unpack right now.

2. He was adopted by a relatively rich family.

3. He was a child genius (which requires not only resources, but drive to achieve), and at a tender young age of like… ten or something? He decided to mess around and literally invented pasteurization. Which is incredible, and really speaks to his knowledge of the world and ability to grasp complex concepts even at a young age. But, again, this is not the time or place to unpack that.

4. He was best friends with Angeal, who might as well have been the sweetest, kindest boy to ever walk the Planet. (I’m biased. I love him.)

5. As a teenager, he became fixated on Sephiroth, who had gained national acclaim as a SOLDIER despite them being the same age. (Please see part 1 and think about that for a second.) He then goes to join SOLDIER and brings Angeal with him. And Angeal brings his step-father’s puritanical “hard work is honorable” mindset with him. (On that note, Angeal and his father’s arc really are a wonderfully scathing letter to companies that overwork their employees and how toxic/unhealthy that line of thinking is. But. Again. We are not unpacking that right now.)

6. At one point he became consumed with LOVELESS, a series of poems with heavy prose and symbolism thicker than syrup. It got to the point where he was so well known for it that there was an entire fanclub dedicated to both him and analyzing the text.

7. While he was in SOLDIER, he repeatedly had his achievements publicly accredited… to Sephiroth.

Over and over and over again.

Everyone did, really. They mention it in the beginning of the game. Sephiroth even got public credit for Zack’s raid on the castle when he wasn’t even there. How much of his legacy is real? How much of it is made up? How much of it was faked? We don’t know. No one knows. But he keeps getting credit, anyways. And when Genesis confronts him about it, Sephiroth doesn’t care. In the Japanese version of their fight scene, you could even say he indirectly implies that he wants Genesis to take his place as the “hero”. In the English, Sephiroth’s line is, “Come and try.” But in the Japanese the line is closer to, “Wouldn’t that be nice?” Which, depending on how you take his tone, can mean wildly different things—from mocking, to earnest, or even admiration—which is especially to tell because he might be annoyed with Genesis at the moment.

Fun Fact: In Ever Crisis, Sephiroth explicitly says they are making up his achievements in the press to target boys his age for recruitment. (Thus why they accepted Zack at age 13.)

My theory on this line is that he is being cynical; that Genesis doesn't understand just how harrowing and even humiliating his experience has been. This only enforces my theory that the "come and try" translation in the English not only does a disservice to a line as wonderfully heavy as, "Wouldn't that be nice?", but fundamentally misunderstands Sephiroth as a character.

8. Genesis then took the fight to Shin-Ra. Inspiring a good chunk of their staff to leave the company, he then staged multiple attacks on facilities, staff, and the main building—which also spilled out into the city of Midgar. He murdered his parents, buried them, killed everyone in town, and… Yeah. It wasn’t pretty. A lot of innocent people died simply because they were vaguely associated with Shin-Ra. These are the actions of a villain. What’s more, this is clearly a sign that he has been acclimatized to death and violence by Shin-Ra to the point where he doesn’t even consider taking hostages.

Except.

Except the entire town was a Shin-Ra town.

Banora, canonically, was a Shin-Ra built town, which means everyone there was basically an employee of the company. No one was safe. Everyone was a threat. And that…

That was how he was raised. And he finally knew the truth—that every moment of his life was touched, controlled by Shin-Ra, all the way down to his very conception. He has never known freedom. He has never known his own identity. And now that very cage was killing him, slowly and painfully, and turning him into something that couldn’t even be recognized as human. He was watching himself rot in the mirror, and it was all because of Shin-Ra’s greed. And as he searched for salvation, he sunk into LOVELESS as he always had, hinging his entire life on Minerva’s Gift because he knew he was dying and that was all he had.

9. And then he died…

10. … but then it turned out LOVELESS was actually kind of a blueprint, and he did meet the Goddess, and he did get reborn without his degradation so he was rewarded for his journey in the end.

So why wasn’t Genesis the main character of the game?

Simple.

His actions challenge the status quo without being about the status quo. It’s a story about revenge. It’s a story about retribution. It’s a story about answering mass violence with mass violence and ultimately being rewarded by it. And while, yes, the series is an action-based violence simulator, the violence in the original FF7 was a guided, tactical effort. (For all that the characters aren’t the brightest bulbs in the sun lamps.) But the biggest, most obvious shift in the narrative happened when they realized their role as terrorists—bringing mass violence to the company via bombing and open aggression—was just resulting in increasing levels of retaliation against uninvolved people. They might as well have been a child beating the ankles of a giant. The goals and themes of the game fundamentally change when they realize that answering mass-scale societal violence with mass-scale physical violence was not only unsustainable, but also wasn’t going to solve their problem.

FF7 is about change and learning when violence—and what kind of violence—is appropriate in the face of different threats.

Genesis’ arc undermines all of that, and making him the main character would contradict the very heart of the OG game.

So, instead, we are positioned as Zack, connected to him through a mutual friend. From there we see all the damage and horror this vengeance brings to those living under the status quo.

But also, that plotline’s a major downer in a lot of ways, so they needed to lighten things up a bit to keep audience involved. And that’s why Zack is, well…

Part Three: Zack is a Himbo

Please, for the love of all that is holy, keep in mind that everything I say here is with the utmost affection.

Zack is dumb as a rock.

He is a charismatic, enthusiastic sixteen year old jock who ran away from home at thirteen years old to join the military. Which, please know, why I say “military” I mean “private security guard force with a standard-issue Death Baton and a license to kill”. The first scene in the game is him being excited that he gets to murder a bunch of people in a simulation, which he is immediately scolded for by his mentor. He is a glorified, souped up private security guard who is canonically only in it for the glory at first. He wants to be a “hero”, but doesn’t seem to fundamentally know what that means. And, over the course of the story, the definition of that clearly changes for him.

Which tracks, because the story takes place over a period of time with high stress.

Occasionally I see people saying they wish that Zack had more complexity to him, and honestly? The game. Would be. SO. BAD.

Full Disclosure: I am not the biggest fan of Zack specifically because he lacks a lot of nuance. I wish he was a bit more complex, too. But I also know that would break the game. What’s worse, if he was still on Shin-Ra’s side because he understood Shin-Ra’s mission… Well… That would make him a villain, or a cog at best. That’s not main character material. It would make the ending more messed up, though.

Anywho, Zack was thirteen when he left home. He had no formal education. He didn’t tell anyone what he was doing. He even joined without a permission slip from his parents. This means that Shin-Ra was accepting thirteen, possibly fourteen year olds into the military. (Some people will say this tracks because you can get a job at fourteen in many parts of Japan. But, and this is important, you aren’t allowed to be a security guard until you’re quite a bit older, and you need a specific license for it, much like in the US.) Clearly they didn’t teach this boy critical thinking skills. Not because he’s a himbo, but because having their Super-Powered Private Security Force With A License To Kill think independently would explicitly go against their interests. (EX: Genesis.)

Shin-Ra needs SOLDIERs to follow orders or the company would no longer be able to function. Seconds and Thirds aren’t even allowed to reject missions. (One could argue that sending certain someone on back-to-back missions would be a good way for them to eliminate undesirables within the ranks by sending them to their deaths, which… would make an incredible fic idea, actually.) We already know that First, Second, and Third Class rank assignments do not actually reflect the power of the SOLDIER. This is canon. I would instead argue that those who make the rank of First Class aren’t necessarily the most powerful, but are instead the most visible in the media, thus the easiest to market, and/or the easiest to manipulate and control. (For a great example of this, see The Umbrella Academy.)

The point is, Zack may have been elevated to his position as a first specifically because he is malleable and single-minded. Even after all he saw with Genesis, he stuck by the company to the very end, with the exception of the time Sephiroth was literally guiding him to fail a mission. Zack allowed himself to take Shin-Ra’s side every time, taking down their enemies and following their orders, preserving his “honor as SOLDIER” as he had been taught. The only thing that made him stop…

… was literally getting put in a jar.

It was when he was no longer a SOLDIER.

Part Four: Honor

There is no such thing as SOLDIER Honor.

I repeat: There is no such thing as SOLDIER Honor.

It is a fictional thing that is borne of an ideology based around hard work. It only has power because it is believed in. It is an intangible social construct similar to the law, mathematical order of operations, and gender roles. So why are Angeal and Zack obsessed with it?

Pretty simple.

Angeal’s step-father followed it.

Now, we know three things about Angeal’s step-father.

1. He was chill with the fact that Gillian was already pregnant when they started dating.

2. He was a very good father.

3. He worked himself to death trying to pay off the sword he bought Angeal.

This, of course, says a lot about Angeal considering he rarely uses the sword. He essentially sees that sword as the symbol of his step-father’s life. Everything he uses it for, he sees as more important than his step-father’s life. That thing is usually Zack.

Zack, who is the child who joined the military based on stories of heroes.

Zack, who rises against Angeal in the name of his own step-father’s ideology and tries to talk him down, even at the very end. But Zack fails because he fundamentally doesn’t understand what’s going on, partially because “Soldier Honor” is just one more aspect of this narrative he was given. It is a narrative that Angeal has had to step away from, even though he doesn’t want to leave the memory of his step-father behind. He was a good man. He was a good, hardworking man.

And that is why he died.

Corporations will use you up until there is nothing left, then honor your memory/sacrifice. Shin-Ra was doing the exact same thing the company his step-father worked for did; using up SOLDIERs until they outlived their usefulness. And Angeal was horrified to realize that his “SOLDIER Honor” wasn’t honor at all.

It was willingly submitting to control.

But, unlike Angeal, over time, this meaning changed for Zack. Partially because he didn't understand it fully in the first place. It became about acting with integrity. It became about helping people. It became about not lying down and watching the abuse Shin-Ra handed out in exchange for literal money; for maintaining the status quo.

At the very end, Zack understood what it meant to be a hero.

Part Five: The Conclusion

To sum up, Zack believed in and idolized the propaganda spread by Shin-Ra at such a young age, and was so convinced by it, that he ran away from home at thirteen to join the military.

He was their target demographic, so they happily took him into their ranks. What’s more, people think this is normal enough that we see no one opposing this, because the only people who oppose Shin-Ra are “extremists” or “violent terrorists”.

Zack then became their loyal puppy, groomed to fill his role as super-powered attack dog to sick on anyone they deemed appropriate, and he filled the role. He believed he was doing good. He didn’t think they were invading another country, because that’s not what he was told.

He went after Genesis, because that’s what he was told, and he wouldn’t let Genesis’ actions shake his faith in the company.

Then he went after Angeal, hoping to get answers, only to become more confused. Angeal taught him about SOLDIER honor. He taught him about a higher calling. He was the one who made Zack truly loyal to the company. This challenged everything Zack knew.

He went with Sephiroth, planning a small rebellion of their own (a white lie on paperwork) to get answers, only to find things he wasn’t ready for and couldn’t fully understand.

Zack is shaken by each of these events. Horribly. At times, we even watch him grieve. But time and time again, he doesn’t leave the company. He sees the damage they do first hand, and he doesn’t leave the company. The company isn’t the problem, to him. He reads their emails, does their dirty work, and “maintains his SOLDIER honor”.

Zack swallows what they give him right up until what they give him is torture.

Zack swallows what they give him until he becomes their victim.

Every step of the way, Zack is fed a story of how the world is. He was raised on it. He lived it. He became part of it. He was paid peanuts to enforce the status quo Shin-Ra installed in the world by force, and he was proud of it because it was, to him, something to be proud of.

Zack believes the propaganda whole-sale, and we get to watch, from the point of view of an outsider, as it slowly destroys his life before killing him.

Propaganda has the power to make suffering normal. Propaganda has the power to make murder righteous. Propaganda has the power to take a thirteen year old boy out of his home so they can give him a sword, and when they point him in the direction of their enemies he charges of his own volition, because they made him believe in their cause. And he believes in their cause because he believes that it makes life better for everyone.

But that’s not what’s actually happening.

That’s just what he was told.

Crisis Core is about propaganda, and the depths to which it can affect our lives. It changes our belief systems. It changes our perceptions of reality. And when it’s torn down around our eyes, it can make us go insane. It can make us violent and unreasonable as we realize just how much violence is being forced upon us—violence other people just plain do not see. It's just a a piece of paper. It's just a law. It's just a job.

It's just a war.

Final Fantasy 7 was about Fascism.

Crisis Core is about the propaganda that built it. It is told from the point of view of a boy, then a man, steeped in it. He watches until the people suffering around him—Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal—are twisted into villains by the truths and lies around them. Genesis and Angeal are tortured by truths, Sephiroth is transformed by lies, and Zack is subsequently hunted down to conceal them.

Crisis Core is Propaganda: The Video Game.

[olivia-willo-w]

Random obey me NSFW Headcanon!

(Also I tried to make it gender neutral but some things are still... More F!reader. Sorry! Still testing.)

Warning! NSFW suggestions under the cut!

Lucifer:

Would most certainly either be tourturingly slow or fast as fuck.

Most likely to pound into you after a bunch of work.

Cock warming probably the thing you guys would do most often, who can resist some work sex tho?

Often or not, there's a thrill of getting caught.

Either way, he still teases you and asserts dominance.

Mammon:

Will and would mark you as his.

Would put the hickeys somewhere easy to spot, like your arms, legs face.

Would HATE it when other went up to you the next day since he would want to take care of you.

Wouldn't mind being sub but would more often pound you with reckless abandon.

Leviathan:

If we were talking usually, this bbg is a sub.

He would be blushing, moaning mess as you ride/tease/suck his cock.

Like, he would be the loudest in the house when it came to sex, and he would always ask if you and him could possibly do positions he found from manga/anime.

BUT, when he's jealous beyond repair, things are taking a 180°.

He would brand you, complain how it's not fair for others to even see you, and how you barely pay attention to him.

Would fuck you or make you ride him will grumbling and pouting.

Satan:

He has no experience whatsoever, but he has some knowledge about this from books he's read.

He usually would take it slow and steady, giving you room to adjust and get used to before he quickens the speed.

But if he's mad, he would not really give two fucks about that.

He would just go, "Strip." And more often and not do it right then and there in his room.

Obviously, if he hurt you, he would apologize non-stop afterwards.

Asmodeus:

The king has TONS, of experience as the avatar of lust.

He can take you on any furniture, any position, and any speed.

He would more often then not either video you and him making out, or if your not comfortable with that, he would fuck you in front of the mirror so you can watch your face as you moan in pleasure.

Often or not he would be always asking if today's the day, or if you guys could go again.

It's not likely you would get hurt when it comes with him and sex. He has a LOT of experience in this.

Beelzebub:

At first, he's a little confused, so... You kind of have to make some of his innocence go away by explaining.

After you explain, he understands and nods, asking if that's what you want he can try his best.

Mostly, he would be eating you out to satisfy his hunger and taste you.

But, on the rare occasions he's not eating you out, he could be slamming his cock into you, slowly but brutally.

Belphegor:

As the smart but lazy person he is, he would always make you ride him.

He wouldn't care if you do it in his sleep, as long as he feeling the jolts of pleasure.

Most of the time, he would be drawing lazy patterns on your thigh as you ride him.

There are occasions where Lucifer makes him so angry, he just has to release it.

And when he does release that anger, like Satan, it would mostly be brutal fucking.

He would just fuck you fast and hard without stopping for awhile, muttering curses under his breath about Lucifer.

When he's done, hell just fall on top of you and take a nap, he needs one!

That's it! Hope you enjoyed! This is honestly my first time writing NSFW sooo... Enjoy!

[yandere-sins]

About the thing where darling's descended from a close friend of Maleficent, imagine if darling's ancestor befriended Maleficent when she was still a princess and darling looked exactly like her ancestor in her younger days. Maleficent would definitely teach darling to be a strong, amazing woman like her ancestor (I'd say that she inherited her ancestor's magic, she hid it in NRC though). Malleus is done for, grandma's personally teaching HIS darling now.

I'd say these didn't age 100% well with the story, but we're reviving the Maleficent's friend!Darling!! Thank you for chatting with me about it ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

I think Malleus would honestly grow so pissed at his own grandma as he has to idly watch her take all of your precious time while being so focused on you she doesn't even help him with the nobles. She is not the one who should stand by your side as you are introduced at the ball. He should have been the one who showed you off and strengthened your bond with Briar Valley. While Maleficent is boasting about you, Malleus still has to fight off eager nobles who want him to take their children as his partner or at least concubine.

He really wanted to enjoy the night with you, though.

Even though he is well aware of what his grandma is doing—boasting your own confidence while being in the scrutinizing eye of every noble of Briar Valley—he is very miffed that you are so far away from him, almost unreachable, transcendent. As if he can't reach you while he puts on a fake smile and uses short, dismissive rejection on the next nobles of his beloved home. He's been asked to dance by so many people but not you, it makes him feel dizzy from anger.

Would you be concerned if he collapsed? Should he use some orchestrated weakness to gain your attention, your worry, and your affection? It might be worth it to lose some of his high standing in front of the nobles if it brought you back to his side, your beautiful eyes stricken with worry and grief about his condition. Your hands are on his body instead of the countless hand kisses that have been offered to you that night. Yes, yes, his grandmother was doing a good job weaving your fate back into Briar Valley after centuries of your bloodline being lost to another world. Still, Malleus cannot help but be selfish when he desires you so much. His eyes are constantly on you, barely forced away to greet another unimportant noble approaching him. There is so much longing and want in his eyes that he is very hard to approach despite having to maintain the facade.

Maleficient definitely notices his staring, the wistful puppy eyes of her grandson, but she does it for him, too. After all, to be able to marry off a non-fae (even without your knowledge) to someone as important as Malleus, she needs to gather all the approval she can get. It's not easy when you are respected while also being a grandma to an obviously lovesick fool of a grandson.

So she constantly, albeit very subtly, corrects your posture by poking you, make you use your fan as she has taught you, clears her throat when you laugh too loudly or speak too quietly. She is constantly nitpicking every one of your mannerisms, only satisfied when the nobles walk away nodding and approving of your presence at court. She does it all night long while feeling the daggers Malleus glares into her back. But she does it for you two.

And before the night ends, she asks the orchestra to play a few gentle songs before leading you away from the crowd. You are exhausted and sweaty, but Maleficient has to make a statement, and seeing her grandson light up as he realizes it's finally his turn with you makes all the training and hard work worth it.

Malleus is by your side in an instant, asking you for the dance. You are exhausted, but a last clearing of Maleficient's throat reminds you to do as you are told. She announces the last dance of the night, and although all eyes are on you and the heir of Briar Valley, quite a few people join in as if to show you their support.

You may be uncomfortable after going through such a long evening of being nitpicked at and forced to behave like someone you aren't. But Malleus makes it easy to follow his steps, always keeping a soft smile on his lips even when you step on his foot. You are so relieved when the song finally runs out, knowing you can finally go to bed, but as you two bow to each other, you are surprised to find Malleus clinging to you. He turns you to say goodnight to his grandma before pulling you out of the ballroom before anyone else, picking you up once you reach the hallway so he can walk even faster and fly away to get to his room more easily.

Because for the rest of the night, you are all his.

[ash5monster01]

Learning to Love

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 3k

→ Part 1

Masterlist

You're used to crude comments, truly. Living in the Outer Banks has proven nothing other than the fact that kooks will always be cruel, even if it's towards other kooks. As long as you're in a bathing suit, something is going to be said. Which is proven true as you lie on the beach, book in hand, and sunglasses hung low on your nose. It's your only day off and you were going to enjoy it. Soak up the sun as much as you can because summer would fade away before you knew it. You had only chosen the two piece bathing suit to get more of a tan, maybe a little extra sun. It's only twenty pages into your book you hear two boys snickering not far from your own set up.

"Look a beached whale, should we call the authorities?" your ears burn red only slightly, after all you were used to it. Honestly you could care less anymore.

"God, she has to know that's gross" the other responds after his bellowing laughs have calmed down. They truly can't be that stupid they don't realize how loud they're talking right?

"No decent looking, hell self respecting man would ever date a girl like that" this punches the air out of your lungs. You knew your body type wasn’t considered attractive. This was common knowledge, but to hear someone say you couldn’t possibly ever date an attractive man is something else entirely.

“I know I wouldn’t” the boys laugh again, hands clapping together as they stare you down like you were the most disgusting thing on this beach.

You’re not upset about what they were saying. You survived highschool after all. Your school had already been divided by kooks and pogues, add in the big girl and that’s a recipe for disaster. You’ve heard the most vile and mean things a person could say. Somehow you came out of it with still a little self respect, hell even some confidence, because if you were anything at all it was strong. You had dated here and there, never had anything stick though. Maybe that’s why this comment resonated so hard with you. No matter how decent a person you meet maybe you’re bound to end up ugly and alone because an attractive man belongs with an attractive girl.

Rafe has had to attend hundreds of useless business meetings since his Dad died. He had wanted this. When he was nineteen and trying to prove to his Dad that he was worth it, but now he was gone. He had no one to impress anymore and at twenty three he carried the burden of being the CEO of an entire company with his last name on it. So that’s how he finds himself inside of dark clubs at noon, sharing a scotch with guys willing to play dirty to get what they want. He often wonders why he had wanted this life so badly. Everything he had believed in for so long was now gone. His Dad, the treasure, and now even kooks and pogues. Ever since his sister had found that treasue social classes had been practically eliminated or at least weren't acknowledged like they were before. All of this had now left Rafe without a sense of self and he desperatley needed something to change.

"Man, why can't they hire pretty waitresses to look at anymore?" Levi, a coworker slurred as he watched their waitress walk away. Rafe noticed her shoulders stiffen because she had heard what he had said. He hated he felt guilty over it.

"It's a bar, not a strip club" Matt, another coworker teased and Rafe rolled his eyes. Four years ago these guys could've been his best friends, and he would've teased the waitress right along with them. Now things were different, he was different.

"I happen to think she's cute" Rafe told them before finishing the last sip of his scotch. He knew when he got back to the office people would give disapproving looks but he didn't know what to do with himself anymore. It was like he was just floating and letting the tide drag him along wherever it wanted to.

"Yeah right" Matt snorted out a laugh and Rafe gave him a confused look as Levi started to laugh along with him.

"Seriously Rafe, you’re way out of her league" Levi told him, his shoulder bumping with his own.

"No I'm not and there is no such thing as leagues" Rafe told them with a pointed look but the boys just continued to laugh anyway.

"Yes there is and the only one's in Rafe Cameron's league are tall hot blondes with legs for miles and tan skin smooth enough slide on" Matt said and Rafe felt his stomach clench as they spoke. Had he unintentionaly maintained a type, only taken someone for their looks? Flashes of ex girlfriends went through his mind and he had realized after all this time he had only taken women for surface things.

“That can’t be true” Rafe shook his head and the boys just chuckled.

“Admit dude, you’re an asshole and you like pretty little things. Nothing wrong with that” Levi said as he slapped his back, taking another sip of his own scotch. Rafe however realized there was everything wrong with that. Yeah he’s been a jerk his whole life but had he ever actually dated a girl he liked? Someone with substance?

“Hell would freeze over the day Rafe Cameron dated someone other than a supermodel” Matt pointed with the scotch in his hand and Rafe just shook his head, eyes scanning over the small crowd that littered the bar. For the first time he was seeing people he never would’ve noticed before.

He wondered if this was a side effect of his life before. Privileged kook, popularity, a need to impress everyone around him. Had women become a part of all of that too? A side effect of a need to please, to be the best. Had he been wasting years of actually meeting someone with a personality due to his natural self destructive ways? God he hoped not. Then again he couldn’t recall ever really liking the girls he dated, he usually just tuned them out and used them when he needed to make an appearance with a date. He had never actually dated someone for fun. Worst of all he hated that everyone knew this of him. That he dated for appearance instead of happiness. He wanted to change that.

You could only take so much of the harassment coming from the two boys on the beach, so after three hours you declared you’d had enough sun and started to pack your things. When the cover up slipped over your head you didn’t miss the applause coming from them. Rolling your eyes you grabbed your bag and started the hike up the beach. You needed a drink.

Rafe hadn’t been able to shake the thoughts over the girls he dated. After a very long recollection of every girl he had ever brought around he couldn’t think of one he actually enjoyed spending time with. With this in mind he dismissed Matt and Levi back to the office, claiming he’d find a way back on his own. He needed more time to think about this, and a stiff drink to go along with it. So that’s how he found himself now sitting directly at the bar and not inside the dark booth. The whiskey in his hand suggested he wasn’t making it back to the office anytime soon.

Normally he wouldn’t remove his focus from the drink in his hands but when a bag is slapped on the counter top beside him he finds himself lifting his head. The girl claiming the seat beside him is dressed in stark contrast to his own attire. He’s still in his work suit, tie loosened around his neck, but the girl beside him has clearly just come from the beach. Her hair is wild and wrapped in a bun a top her head. A red bikini strap peaks out the collar of the white coverup. Her breasts had left wet spots slightly see through to the red fabric of her top, like she had left the beach in a rush.

“Hit me with the usual Randy” she calls to the bar keep and Rafe can’t tear his eyes away from her. She’s bigger, sure, but the dip of her hips and small pouted lips have Rafe every bit of intrigued. He can’t help the thought of her being a girl he might’ve never noticed before escape him. He wanted to notice her now.

“Rough day?” Randy smirks at her when he’s back, a tall glass with a dark liquid set in front of her. She takes a sip before responding.

“Every day is a rough day” she mutters and Randy just chuckles before walking off to serve other customers. It’s only when your eyes lock with his own Rafe realizes he has been staring this entire time. “Let me guess, you got something to say just like everyone else today”

“I, what?” Rafe doesn’t expect the coldness from you and how strong willed you are with it too. You aren’t scared of him, he isn’t used to that.

“Listen I’ve had my fill of assholes today so if you don’t have anything nice to say, keep it to yourself” you told him before turning back forward and taking a large gulp from the drink in your hand.

“Got someone bothering you?” Rafe asked finding his cool. He finally got himself to tear his eyes away from you, eyes scanning over the liquor bottles behind the bar. You turn to look at him, eyes drawn together in confusion.

“Not one specific person, everyone for some reason thinks they have the right to comment on my appearance” your words get him to turn back at you. Normally men don’t make you nervous but when you watch him eye you up and down you can’t help the way your heart accelerates.

“I happen to think you look just fine” the scoff that falls from your lips shocks him.

“I’m not looking for your pity, I happened to over hear today that no decent self respecting man would date me so let’s not lie to each other” you tell him and Rafe now feels the air knocked from his lungs. He can’t believe anyone would say that to you. Let alone to your face.

“If it makes you feel better I was told today that I only date woman for surface things” now you were the one drawing your eyebrows together in confusion, looking to the mystery of a man beside you.

“Surface things?” you question the stranger and he chuckles, his rings clinking on his whiskey glass.

“Appearances, apparently I’ve never looked deeper” this has you chuckling right along with him, lifting your own drink to your lips.

“Look at us then, two sides of the same coin. Makes you wonder if there really is anyone out there actually happy with who they ended up with” you say mostly to yourself, knowing this perfect stranger on a normal day would never look your way but you also would never find yourself thinking you had a chance with him.

“I think there is, at least the people who weren’t chewed up and spit out by the world” the optimism is what shocks you the most when he speaks. A hope for something better down in there.

“I wish I was one of those people” you find yourself saying and the boy turns to look at you again, eyes scanning over each of your features.

“Maybe we should prove them wrong” now you’re laughing, looking bewildered towards the boy beside you.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” you ask and he smirks, clearly having some sort of plan.

“We date. I prove to my coworkers that I date someone for more than just their looks and you prove to all those assholes that you can date a guy as good looking as me” he gestures to himself, as if his body is some of God’s best work. You scoff at his clear cheekiness but actually find yourself considering.

“I don’t even know your name” you laugh, trying to remind yourself that this ideal is completely absurd.

“Rafe Cameron, nice to meet you” his hand reaches across the bar, you take notice of how long his fingers are. With the shake of your head you find yourself putting your hand in his own.

“It’s not that simple” you tell him and he just smiles, dimples forming around his pressed together lips.

“Isn’t it though?” he says, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes and you sigh, finally removing your hand from his own.

“Date? As in fake date?” you ask and he nods, his head tipping to the side.

“Exactly, an agreement of sorts. We both benefit from each other, everything to gain and nothing to lose” he tells you like he’s already worked out every way this could end.

“We just met” you inform him and he shrugs, implying this wasn’t an issue.

“I’ve seen people date over less” he tells you and you sigh, holding your hand out to him. He looks are your empty palm confused and you quickly roll your eyes.

“You can’t take me out ion a date without my number dream boy” you tell him and he smirks while grabbing his phone out of his pocket and placing it in your hand. He watched as you meticulously open his contacts and punch in your number. You’ve named your contact ‘baby ❤️’ but he doesn’t get your real name until you type it into other names.

“Y/N? I like that” he smiles at you and you chuckle, clicking on the profile photo to take a selfie.

“We’re already off to a bad start if you want to stop liking people for just their surface things” he likes how quick witted you are and you don’t allow him a response as you lean into his personal space. “Can’t be a real girlfriend if I don’t have a profile picture in your phone”

You smile so easily and he instantly notices how beautiful it is. He’s not looking at the camera anymore but leaning in and taking in the sweet scent of your perfume mixed with the sunscreen and salty skin. You were like a walking beach and he loved that more than anything. That is how he finds his lips pressing softly against your cheek as the camera shutter clicks on his phone. Your body has chills that you have to brush off quickly as you look at the entirely real looking photo on his screen.

“If I didn’t like what was on the surface you would never be my fake girlfriend” he finally says as he takes his phone back before you could text yourself his number.

“I don’t like how easy this is for you. Are you sure I’m your first fake girlfriend?” you ask and he laughs, eyes falling on your face again.

“The first and the only” and you decide that coming into an agreement like this with a stranger shouldn’t be this simple.

“Then we need to lay some ground rules” this has him raising his eyebrows as you grab a napkin from the bar. He watches as you leaned over, searching for a pen behind the bar. Unashamedly he took the opportunity to inspect your ass, admiring the curve and thanking the see through fabric for revealing the cheeky bikini bottoms that laid over your large curves. He had never openly allowed himself to be attracted to a bigger girl. but now he was briefly wondering what it would be like to be suffocated by one.

“So, what’s these rules?” he smirked at you once you were sat back upright in your seat. He watched as you popped the cap off the pen with your teeth and leaving it in your mouth.

“Don’t worry pretty boy, I’ll keep them simple” you tell him, dropping the cap from you lips into the bar. He felt himself flush slightly at the nickname, watching as your neat and loopy handwriting moved across the napkin.

1. Must actively text/call/interact for a week before first “official” date.

2. PDA must be limited

3. Don’t catch feelings, no matter what

4. Attend whatever event your fake significant other asks of you

5. Most of all, don’t tell anyone, ever, that this is fake

“PDA must be limited?” you roll your eyes at the fact this was the only rule he questioned but you sign at the bottom of the napkin anyway.

“I don’t want to waste all of romantic gestures on something that isn’t real” you explain to him and he nods, sliding the napkin in front of him.

“I have a lot of work dinners I would like you to attend” he says as he signs the napkin.

“I’ll try my best” you tell him and now he’s furrowing his eyebrows at you.

“It’s your rule” he points at the napkin, more confused with you than when you first walked in here. “What could you possibly be busy with?”

“Work” you tell him and he still looks confused which you find adorable. Now rule number three only applies to you.

“Every night?” he questions and you chuckle as you return the pen to the other side of the bar.

“Usually, comes with the territory” and you laugh as he continues to try and process what you’re saying.

“What territory?” he asks and you smile, finishing the drink in front of you.

“My bar” and you gesture to the building around you. Rafe suddenly realizes why you know the names of the workers and why they know your usual drink order.

“You own this place?” and you nod, sliding off your seat and grabbing your bag. You also grab the napkin, now signed by you both.

“Don’t forget rule number one handsome” you tell him before heading towards the exit, determined to have a good rest of your day off. Rafe can only watch as you walk away, baffled any of what just happened actually occurred.

“Randy, I’m gonna need a refill”

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

Comment if you want to be added to the tag list :))

[dallasgallant]

Country/southern slang and vernacular-

This is what I’m going with for the title as honestly I’m not sure what else you would call it, but it is also linked to class a little bit? It’s complicated. Anyways, surprised I haven’t done one like this sooner as I’ve done:

JD slang. 60s slang. Rodeo terms

However, it can’t include everything! As usual take this as a jumping off point, it’s funny as Oklahoma is technically southern, culturally and such. Some are sourced from general knowledge, others from southern or “Oklahoma slang” which heavily overlaps but is more accented.

A lot of this ended up actually being more writing accented speech with some slang thrown in, a lot of it is about contractions! Also word usage! They’ll be a more “general grammar” and accent section at the bottom.

—

All get out- sentence enhancer (ex. Funny as all get out)

Air up - Pump air into something (Tires, mattress)

Ain’t - am not; are not; is not. has not; have not.

An’ all - and all

Awfulest - Most awful *air guitar* , very bad [Appalachian?]

Belted- beaten

‘Bout - about

Billfold- Wallet (Oklahoman, used in place of wallet)

Caint- Can’t

‘Cos - cause/because

Coke- soda (any kind) (ex. You wanna get a Coke? What kind?)

Crick- creek

Do up - prepare : clean/repair (Ex. Y’all do up the dishes)

Do wut - say again

D’yall - Do y’all or did y’all

don’tcha - Don’t you

Drop trou- pull down one’s pants , especially as a stunt in public

dyeet - did you eat?

Figure- Calculate, consider, decide

Fixin’ - on the verge of something : getting ready to

fronta - in front of

Fo’ sure- for sure

Fussin’- overexagerated concern, fidgeting

Gettin’ round - getting ready to go somewhere or do something (ex. Gettin’ round to it)

Gonna- going to

Good-for-nothin’ - Worthless/useless person or object (usually said while worked up)

Gussied up - dressed nicer than everyday (ex. Church clothes)

hafta- have to

Hankering- desire, yearning, craving

Heap - a large quantity (ex. Heap of trouble)

Highfalutin- pompous/pretentious/fancy

Holler- loud cry or shout

Honky tonk - bar where people dance (typically to county, line dance )

Hootin’ and Hollerin’- wild shouting, making a bunch of noise

Howdy- Greeting or used to express surprise

howta - how to

Hush- quiet, shut up

Ice box - fridge (Oklahoman or rural)

I’mma - I’m gonna or I am

Imma geddin sig n tard" - I’m getting sick and tired

ja'eet yet?- did you eat yet?

Keep your shirt on- stay calm (also see : Be cool)

Kin- family (not always by blood. Could be someone you’re close to)

Laying out - staying the night (doing something illicit) or

Let alone - leave alone or to indicate somethings less likely

Like to - Almost (rare)

Lick [Noun] - any amount (Ex. Didn’t get a lick of sleep last night)

Lick [Verb] - beat (ex. Steve Licked that soc good)

Musta- must have

Mom’ n’ em - Mom and them (literal), asking how one’s family is doing

Might could - might be able to

Muddin’ (Oklahoman) - off-roading, going down muddy trails

‘N - then/than or and

‘N em’ - And them

Naw- no

Neither- not one or other (sometimes used in place of either)

Nuss - To nurse

Okie- native resent of Oklahoma (formerly derogatory during dust bowl)

Ornery- combative, mean

Ought- indicate something correct or probable

Oughta- ought to

Ope- oops

Outta- out or

Preddy sure - pretty sure

Prolly- probably

Pop- soda

Purdy- pretty

Pitch a fit- throw a fit, be really upset

Reckon- think: suppose

Rise- upset someone (ex. He sure got a rise out of her)

Rile- upset someone (ex. Don’t rile up the dog)

Ruther - rather

Shouldn’t’ve- shouldnt have (double negative)

Shoot- polite way to say shit : go ahead and speak

Sho’ nuff - sure enough

‘Sides - besides

s’not - it’s not/is not

s’okay - it’s okay

Sorta- sort of

Sprinklin’ - light rain

stocking feet - wearing just socks

Sumbitch - son of a bitch

Tailing- follow without being noticed

The city - Oklahoma City (even if you live in Tulsa. ‘The city’ is Oklahoma City)

Tore up - upset

Tryan- Heavily accented Tryin’

Twister- Tornado (used to be more regional)

Upitty- conceited, fancy, snobby

Welp - well or expression (ex. Welp, I better head out)

Whup/whoop- hit

Whipped- beaten

won’tcha = won’t you

Y’all - you all

Yall’re- y’all are

Y’ain’t - you ain’t

Yer - your

-

Grammar-

The more I added to the list the more I realized writing for the gang is just as much learning to write accent than it is slang, it’s the way they talk and that includes grammar etc. Im going to try and explain some points that I’ve noticed in an understandable way, but it’s also important to note that these rules don’t apply every time necessarily.

Using the wrong word

less words in certain sentences (ex. Don’t mean nothin’)

With above, fewer words to describe things.

Drop the G occasionally (ex. Nothin’ )

Adding ‘d instead of saying ‘would (ex. Soda’d)

Real> really (descriptive)

Anybody > anyone

Weren’t typically goes with a double negative ( ex. weren’t nothing we could do)

Use of ‘you’ (used instead of a name or ‘your’)

Use of ‘was’ instead of ‘were’ ( ex. I knew you was)

Both Aren’t and isn’t become ain’t (sometimes even more)

A LOT OF CONTRACTIONS

Combing words - either a new contraction or new spelling to emphasize accent, especially around questions (ex. ja'eet yet?)

Use of expressions/idioms (ex. That dog won’t hunt)

[gulliblelemon]

Birthday more-than-snippet

As my birthday gift to myself, I'm giving you the first 1.2k words of my next fic. (Still hasn't gone through my whole editing/beta process yet, but I wanted to share anyway). It is, as yet, untitled (obviously - I'm still me), but here is the some context for the 'no context' fic 💜

~🏳️‍🌈💜🏳️‍🌈~

The slamming door makes Wille jump. He’s been sulking, leaning against the wall, waiting for his turn to be called into his mother’s office. A summons is rarely a good thing where Wille is concerned. He’s the fuck-up, the let-down, the disappointment who continuously fails and falls short of his mother’s expectations. 

Not like poster-boy Erik. Poster-boy Erik who is currently storming out of his mother’s office and away from Wille.

There’s a split second of shock, where Wille doesn’t quite know how to react, he half pushes off the wall, ready to tear down the corridor after Erik before he hears a voice calling out of the office.

“Come in, Wilhelm!”

He hesitates a moment longer before sighing and stomping into the office, ready to defend himself for something he doesn’t even know he’s done yet.

“Sit down, Wilhelm,” his mother says, gesturing to the chair opposite.

The seat is cold and unforgiving, not unlike the expression currently residing on his mother’s face. She looks at him for a beat, lips pursed, calculating, before shaking her head and sighing. 

For a moment, Wille is taken aback. It’s a surprisingly vulnerable noise from her, and not one he is used to hearing. It’s less surprising than the words that follow. “Thank you for coming, Wilhelm. I appreciate you making the time at such short notice.”

Thinking of his exceptionally empty schedule of mostly moping around and feeling sorry for himself after being torn apart by the media for a club fight that wasn’t his fault, Wille just nods. “Of course,” he says, not wanting to rock the boat. 

She sighs again before exclaiming, “If we could have one week without a scandal! Is that too much to ask?”

Shocked, Wille tries to rack his brain for what else he might have done wrong this week but is interrupted by Kristina shaking her head and saying, “Sorry, that was unfair of me. What I actually called you in her to say is: we are postponing your transfer to Hillerska. Potentially indefinitely.”

What? Wille knows his mouth drops open at her words, but he just can’t comprehend what she’s saying. 

“I know it’ll be coming as a shock, goodness knows the whole this is a shock to all of us. Honestly, Erik should have known bet—”

“I’m sorry… what?” Wille finally says, spluttering an interruption, much to his mother’s chagrin.

She purses her lips and exhales through her nose. And this is more familiar territory, this he is used to, this barely concealed annoyance and her obvious displeasure at his mere existence. 

But it soon melts into something else, and she closes her eyes, massaging the point between her eyebrows for a moment before lowering her hands and clasping them in front of her.

“It has come to our attention,” she says, “that some of the things that go on at Hillerska are things that we do not want The Royal Family to be associated with.”

“Things?” Wille says. “What things?”

“That is none of your concern,” she says. “We have simply decided that at the present time, it would be prudent to send you elsewhere. Distance ourselves from Hillerska and its reputation.”

“Is this why Erik stormed out?” Wille asks. “What happened?”

“I have already said—”

“If it’s public knowledge, I’m going to find out sooner or later,” he says. “And surely it’s better to hear it from you than some gossip magazine.”

He’s not even sure why he’s pushing so hard, except that for once, Erik might have fucked up more than he has. And that alone is enough to make him more than a little bit smug.

Kristina is looking at him carefully, her face is exceptionally still although her eyes have narrowed slightly. “I suppose you are right,” she says eventually, and he lets out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding. “Maybe hearing it from us would end up being better. Well” - she uncrosses and recrosses her hands on the table, it’s as close to a nervous tick as she gets - “it appears that the Hillerska initiation ceremonies have become somewhat more vulgar in the years since your father and I were there. We have been made aware of the fact that there was some… inappropriate behaviour. Behaviour that will be frowned upon by the public. Especially when taken out of context.”

“What like?” Wille says, trying not to sound too eager. Erik had always brushed off the Hillerska initiations, and told Wille he’d find out when he had one himself. 

“We have been made aware that some of the students were forced to… undress.”

Wille baulks. That seems a bit excessive. The idea of having to strip in front of new classmates seems awkward at best. Embarrassing and humiliating. Although Erik had said that the point of the initiation was to prove that no one was above anyone else, a shared experience to bring the new students closer together. And maybe it’s no worse than having to change in the locker room anyway…

“They were also,” Kristina continues, “made to watch an… unsavoury film.”

Wille screws up his face. “I’m sorry… a what?”

“A… pornographical film, I am led to believe.”

Wille’s stomach turns. “Seriously?” he says. And that’s way worse than getting changed in a locker room. He doesn’t want to believe it. Doesn’t want to believe that Erik would have been involved in something like that, but also doesn’t want to believe that Erik would have sent him to Hillerska knowing that that was going to happen to Wille without warning him. Not without—

“A pornographical film depicting… relations between two young men.”

It feels as though the floor has been pulled out from beneath him and he is free falling. Wille gasps and it gets caught in his throat. Through a splutter, he says, “A— they showed them a gay porn film?”

Kristina curls her lip in distaste. And Wille doesn’t want to know if it’s distaste at the act of showing it to unsuspecting first years who have been stripped of their clothes, or if it's because of the content of the film. Wille hasn’t come out to his family, or to anyone in fact. It is a secret that he carries with him, slowly festering, breaking him down from the inside. But no one needs to know. It doesn’t make any difference. He can bear it, he can carry it through life and tell no one. 

But can he bear the knowledge that Erik would— That Erik thought it was fun to laugh at that, to put people in the position of— No. Wille can’t. It’s too much. He wants to vomit. And he wants to run. And he wants to scream.

He does none of those things. 

“Apparently so,” Kristina says, with a small shake of her head, as if it’s just a small inconvenience, as if Wille’s views of his brother have not just been completely upended. Maybe Erik wasn’t actually involved. Maybe he was against it. Yes, that must be it. It can’t be that his brother would do that. There’s no way.

“So, understandably, we cannot have you beginning to attend, at least until this is all sorted out.”

Still reeling, Wille says, “Sorted out?”

“Yes. We need to either deny the claims that Erik was involved. Or - if that is not possible - at least do something to regain the public’s trust in the institution. And ourselves. Honestly, Erik should have known better.”

Yes, Wille thinks, he should.

“Can I go?” is what he says instead. 

She looks at him for a moment, then says, “Yes, I suppose there’s nothing further to discuss at the moment.”

Nodding his head, he stands and practically flees from the room.

[eustasskidagenda]

anon asked: Hello you <3 your writing style is so smooth, I love it! So, I would like to ask you some smutty fruity juicy smut for Law my man, Kid (maybe it will make you accept this request more easily 😇), and Sanji. Something about how they would react after being teased all the day by their s/o, like bc she’s wearing some suggestives clothes or touching them in public etc. For a female reader, if possible. And regarding the kinks, do as you wish, I trust you with the result. Hope I made the request correctly and tysm for bringing our ideas to life <333 Oh, and you can add some more characters if you want! anon, please.

Hi there! Tysm for your kind words, I'm always a bit uncertain and unconfident when I have to write scenarios in other languages than my native one ;w; So, it means a lot to me ;w; I didn't add more characters bc you already pick two of my personal fav + my ultimate fav ♡. Anyway, the meal is ready, hope it will match your expectations, thank you for requesting!☆

☆Law, Kid & Sanji after being teased all the day by their s/o

CW (generals) : MDNI, f!reader, smut, teasing

WC : 3,3k

Law 

CW : dirty talk, fingering, overstimulation, slight degradation (usage of 'slut'), panties stuffing (mouth)

What a foolish game to tease Law. You know that, don't you? Law could write a complete book about teasing and still have much to say regarding this topic, in fact. So, sure, go ahead and tease him. Taunt him with this short skirt, bend just in front of him to grab the book you "accidentally" let fall, and try to annoy him while he's working in his office. He won't show anything, always keeping his cold and serious attitude in front of others. Law is pretty good when it comes to controlling himself. But inside, oh damn, his blood is boiling with pure desire to make you pay. Law is not one to let things fall, so he wants to avenge and he will do so.

And we all know Law is the king of shenanigans. While working, he would imagine a cruel scenario that would make you turn into a moaning, whimpering, and wet mess. He would keep thinking about it the entire day, holding back a mischievous grin as you continue to tease him. 

In fact, he thinks you're cute. You're putting in a lot of effort to tease him, but you have no knowledge about this topic. But it's fine, he'll teach you how it's done soon enough. 

Despite your attempts to annoy him, he's still working even though it's almost midnight. Even so, you enter his office once more, sitting at his desk, throwing his papers away. And you're wearing a really short skirt, one of his favorites. Slowly, you cross your legs, showing him the panties you're wearing under: again, one of his favorites. "Law, I'm bored" you whine, with wet puppy eyes.

And now the fun begins. Law would use his DF to 'room, shamble' you into your shared bedroom. Obviously, he would also lock the door from a distance. All you can do is wait for him. He won't let you go soon. He would continue working, taking pleasure in the silence and picturing your pitiful whines. 

After maybe two hours, he would finally join you, slowly opening the door to find you lying on the bed, all bored and eagerly waiting for the long wait. As you attempt to jump into his arms and say 'Law, you're here!', he would scowl mad at you and take off his hat without any consideration for you.

The aura surrounding him would only radiate anger and eagerness. "Get on the bed." And this is not a suggestion or a nice request coming out of his mouth, but an order. He rarely commands that directly, but when he does, you better obey really quickly. Honestly, you know it's not time to act like a brat anymore, so you should comply.

First thing first, Law would tie your wrists. "A naughty girl like you doesn't deserve to touch me." With that sentence, he would slowly remove his shirt, taking his time, playing with the buttons, and eventually revealing his bare tattooed chest. The one you love to fondle, kiss, bite, and even leave hickeys on. 

You're already squirming, anticipating being touched, anticipating intimacy with him, anticipating his skin touching yours. "Is there something wrong, y/n-ya?" Ah, yes. He would really take his time, slowly sliding his shirt down the ground, and running his beautiful tattooed hands through his hair. 

As you writhe, your short skirt goes up your thighs, revealing your panties that are already wet. "You're such a pathetic slut. You need me so badly already, y/n-ya?"

He would simply observe how your underwear is becoming more and more wet. He hasn't touched you yet. It doesn't matter if you squirm and beg, he won't care. You did that to yourself. You can try to untie yourself if you want, you're tightly tied. 

"Please Law, I'm sorry! I need you so bad! " 

" And you decided to tease me all the damn day to get my attention? You're such an eager slut. Now shut up and take it." 

Law would love to sit on the edge of the bed, close to you, but not enough to allow you to touch his skin. He would make you feel his presence, enjoying all of your pathetic whistling. And after a certain time, finally, without a word, he would run his skilled fingers along your body, touching you everywhere, avoiding your inner thighs in purpose. The more you contort and arch your back, the more he will tease you. He loves how you crave for his touch. 

As tears of frustration start to prickle at the corner of your eyes, he would roughly pinch your nipple. "Something wrong, y/n-ya?" He's tricky because if you beg for more, of course, he won't obey. And if you keep quiet, he would continue to torture your body, waiting for your answer. "That's how we tease someone, y/n-ya."

His hands would slowly, slowly, taking off your skirt and then, he would hook his thumbs under your panties, sliding them down your legs, inch by inch, revealing your bare pussy and damped folds to his eyes. "Law… I" And brutally, he would stuff your wet panties in your mouth. "Nice girls are the only ones allowed to speak." 

Your muffled complains would be pure music to his ears. He would continue to tease you, his fingers tracing patterns on your lower-stomach. Finally, sliding along your slit. "You're soaking wet for absolutely nothing." Oh, he would love to watch how your dripping core is aching, clenching around nothing, before slowly rubbing his fingers along your pussy.

"You're making a mess on the bedsheets. You better clean them right after I'm done with you. " 

He would push one finger into your pussy while you moan, your mouth still full of your own panties. Law is truly talented, even with just one finger. " One finger. That's all you deserved." 

His middle finger, which is nicely curled, would hit all your sweet spots when he circles your clit with his thumb. He would love to watch you trying to get more friction, more of him, more of his fingers. But he won't comply.

He would be painfully slow, thrusting his finger in and out of your body at an unrealistic slow pace, before brutally pushing in, and then, nice and slow again. Yes, it's frustrating, it makes you tense yourself in anticipation, and it's precisely what he's looking for. 

"See, I've told you one finger would be enough" as you cum violently all around his middle finger, making a mess on the bedsheets, with shivering thighs, shaky breath and pathetic whimpers. 

"I'm not done yet." 

Before sliding two fingers inside you. He would continue to rub your clit, hitting all your sweet spots, making you squirm on the bed as you try to untie yourself. But there is nothing you can do. You're sentenced to take more of his fingers, to cum again and again, your sensitive pussy aching and clenching.  

Then, he would take off his fingers, licking his tattoos covered in your wetness. And if you dare sigh of relief, he would slowly run his fingers along the length of his cock through his pants. 

"Oh, y/n-ya, you're here for a long, long night."

Kid 

CW : Degradation, rough sex, fingering, dirty talk, v!sex, spanking, hair pulling, slight choking, Kid has a filthy mouth, size kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mention of anal sex

The master of rough sex.

Kid has absolutely no patience or self-control, and absolutely hates being teased. Whenever you tease him, his honest reaction is to grab you roughly by the wrist, pin you against the closet wall, and just fuck you roughly from behind. He doesn't give a damn if it's in a public place. 

But today is different because he can't have his fun with you. That damn reunion for the 'alliance thing' that he agreed to because of Killer is way too long, and you're teasing him under the table by rubbing your feet against his cock. Or showing him that you're wearing your red panties, his favorite ones. The poor Kid would hold onto the table, his phalanx white due to the intense effort he's making to maintain his composure. 

Don't you dare think about his thoughts right now, because all he can imagine is you being fucked roughly like the little slut you are

The moment the meeting is over, he would try to grab your hips and fuck you immediately. If you manage to escape his grip, sticking out your tongue to mock him before running to the Victoria Punk, oh, damn, you're doomed.

Kid would waste no time looking after you, with clenched fists and gritted teeth. No one would dare approach him because, honestly, his anger is wrapping him up like an aura. And we all know how Kid deals with annoying people. 

He would slam the door of your shared bedroom angrily. Kid would be even madder if you lie on the bed, giggling and pleased with your mischiefs. "Think you're funny, fuckin’ woman?" The way he spits his words in your face is quite frightening. Now, you're not laughing anymore. "'Gonna fuckin' ruin ya" 

That's all your waiting for, right?

With sloppy moves, he would let his coat fall on the ground, take off his shirt, and throw his boots away. Before ripping all of your clothes, including your panties, and crawling onto the bed, his impressive figure looming over you. He would shamelessly use his large metallic arm to crush you onto the mattress. The prosthetic hand would hold your upper body, with two metallic fingers around your throat and the rest wrapping around your waist. "Stay fucking still, slut."

As you squirm and start to moan, turned on by how dominant he's acting right now, he would scowl angrily. "Stop bein' so fuckin' loud" with a rough slap on your inner thighs.

He would love to watch how you look, pinned down and totally helpless. All you can do is take all of him. He would make you spread your legs, pushing your knees away, and force them to touch the bed sheets in a matting press position. 

The sensation of fitting your small body between his muscular thighs would be immensely attractive to Kid. He would slam roughly two thick fingers into your soaking wet pussy without any warning or consideration, hitting all your sweet spots. The only thing you're allowed to do is take it. You won't be going anywhere. Not with his metallic hand holding you still. 

As you moan and beg for more, he would laugh mockingly. "Shut the fuck up, slut." Without a word, he would take off his fingers covered in your wetness and force them into your mouth. "Suck them clean." 

He would probably make you gag and drool a bit, forcing his fingers down your throat, enjoying how tears are starting to prickle at the corner of your eyes. "Thought it would be funny to fuckin' mess with me?" 

After taking off his fingers, he would roughly flip you over on your stomach. "Ass up. Chest down. Now." And, as you comply, he would smash your head against the pillow, forcing your back to arch until your spine hurts. 

Kid would spank you with his heavy hand. The flesh one. Leaving red marks on your cheeks and spreading them apart brutally to watch your tight pussy clenching desperately around nothing.  "You're just a fuckin slut, Y/N, gettin’ soaked just for some fingering." 

Quickly, he would slide down his pants, just enough to free his large cock, leaking in pre-cum, throbbing and twitching with impatience. Then, slamming his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside you, and bullying your cervix with his thick length. "Take it all." As you cry out from how good he's filling you up. 

"Shut the fuck up" burying your head violently against the pillow if you start to moan. And if you continue to muffle, cry out, and whimpers, Kid would wrap his large hand around your throat, squeezing roughly, silencing you. 

He would slam his cock so hard, making your ass jiggle with each thrust, his heavy balls slapping against your wet pussy, with a sloshing, obscene sound. He would make sure you feel helpless under his control, enjoying how your breath becomes shallow and labored as you struggle to get enough air through your nose. "Don't fuckin' mess with me, Y/N. Never." 

He would love to watch how your inside is swallowing his cock, burying himself so deep that it feels like he's pounding your very core. 

"You keep sucking me in, you like my cock that much, lil slut?" 

The headboard slamming against the wall would cause the bed to creak. With his hand, Kid could either slap your ass or hold you still. And sure, his eyes would be glued to his cock, sliding roughly in and out of you, glistening, all covered by your wetness. 

As he pounded into you at a breaking-spine pace, he would grunt loudly and shamelessly, sweat dripping down his face. "Cry out for me all you want, fuckin' whore." 

He would pull you back onto his cock with each thrust, almost tearing you in half. He would use his exceptional stamina to his advantage, plowing into you repeatedly and showing no signs of slowing down. He won't stop if you don't use your safe word for a rough session. 

"Who's fuckin' you so well?" 

His ego would be immensely satisfied if you keep shooting his name.

His hand would grab your hair, pulling it roughly, almost breaking your neck, forcing you to look at him while he fucks you. Squeal for him, cry for him under his unforgiving pace. That's all he wants. "I don't even know why I'm fuckin' you. A slut like you doesn't deserve my cock." 

He would continue until your mind starts to melt into nothingness, leaving bruises all over your skin. Your moans and his low, animalistic grunts would fill the rooms. As you cum all around his cock, he would slap your ass, keep thrusting, and overstimulate you. And brutally, he would cum inside of you, his body shaking with the force of his release. After a few more sloppy thrusts, he would pull out, his member sliding out of you with a loud plop, followed by a large amount of white sticky fluid leaking out of you.

"Keep it in, slut." 

Slowly, his thumb would find its way to your asshole. "This hole deserves some attention too, right, slut?"

Good luck, you just awake a wild beast. He would be delighted to observe your struggle to walk the next morning. That's what you get for teasing him. No one messes with Eustass Kid.

Sanji 

CW : oral sex , fingering (reader receiving), slight food play, squirting, v!sex, Sanji is talking in French here and there 

Okay, but Sanji is almost always turned on by your simple presence. Our poor Sanji would struggle to even breathe if you decided to tease him. His eyes would always be glued to your every move. He would smoke more than usual, attempting to resist the urge to lift this beautiful dress and devour you.

Honestly, he would assume that you're angry with him. "Have I done something wrong today, Y/N?" With wet puppy eyes. 

Poor Sanji would be even more confused if you start laughing playfuly and lift up your dress slightly, revealing the elegant lace panties you're wearing today. He would struggle to cook, almost burn the dinner for the crew because his mind would be so dizzy. Oh, he would sacrifice everything to eat you out right here, right now, in front of anyone.

Sanji would cough loudly as you continue to tease him under the table during the diner with the rest of the crew. And once everyone has left the kitchen, Sanji would waste no time locking the door and just grabbing your hips and sitting you on the table. 

Let's remember the broken plates with a minute of silence.

"J'ai tellement besoin de toi, Y/N" (I need you so bad)

He would also ask you what he has done wrong today, and as you laugh and reply 'nothing, I just wanted to tease you,' Sanji would be relieved. "If my pretty girlfriend is needy, then, I have to take care of her. Je vais bien m'occuper de toi." (I gonna take care of you)

Sanji would use the environment to his advantage and cover your body with black chocolate, slowly licking your breasts covered in the warm liquid. "Tasting so good…" 

He would eat and treasure every inch of your skin, sucking on your nipples, pinching them slowly between his thumb and index finger while sucking on the other. Sanji is eager to please you and is happy to finally touch you after a long day of teasing.

He's a starving person, he would never be able to tease you back or just ignore you.

Sanji would slowly slide your panties down your legs. At the sight of your bare pussy, his cock would roughly press against the fabric of his pants. 

He would treat you like a queen even if you've been teasing him for the entire day. After all, you are his queen and you deserve the best.

While you remained on the table, he would ask "Are you comfortable?" and then kneel down and gently run his hands along your inner thighs. He would slowly bury his head between your legs. Being between your thighs is his favorite place. Pure heaven for Sanji.

Sanji, the oral sex king, would take his time, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs, slowly approaching your soaking wet pussy. "My pretty girl is so needy." 

He would eat you out by using his skills to make you moan his name loudly. Please grasp his hair and press his head harder against your lips. When you use him for your own pleasure, he loves it. His tongue flicking against your clit, he would smoothly slide two long fingers inside of you, curling them deeply inside of you. 

Sanji doesn't need anything but his skillful mouth and hands to make you feel good. Your responsiveness is something he loves. He would love to feel your legs wrapped around him as he continues to drink all of your juice as if it were a glass of red wine. 

With a gentle touch, he would intensify the passion, his tongue licking harder at your clit, and his fingers perfectly curled against all your sweet spots. Although he's patient, he's also battling against his own urge to take off his pants and slide his cock deep into your hot and wet pussy.

He would look at you, enjoying how your face is twisted in nothing but pure ecstasy. "You're always making the prettiest noises for me" before returning back to his duty: making you cum.

And that's what you do, squeezing his head between your thighs, grabbing a full hand of blond hair, cumming hard against his lips and around his fingers nicely curled inside you. 

Sanji would drink all of your juice, continue to eat you out, until you cum again. And again. You teased him all the day, now, he can't get enough of you. He wants more, he needs more. He would leave you with your legs shaking and turn you into a pathetic whiny mess. "Too much!" He would continue until you squirt on his face, your mind so dizzy that you can't feel your own orgasms anymore.

Finally, he would stop, licking his lips and glistening with your wetness. "Tu es si bonne, je ne peux pas m'arrêter." (You taste so good, I just can't stop.)

He would not expect you to return the favor. But it would be cruel to leave him with an uncomfortable erection. You're not cruel. Right? 

If you decide to let him slide his cock inside you, he would moan so loudly and shamelessly. The prettiest moans. You just feel so good. 

He would fuck you on the table, in all the positions, worshipping every single inch of your body until you're both exhausted.

[obey-me-disaster]

I saw the Mammon with a clingy MC headcannons and was wondering if you could please write those for the rest of the brothers?

Sure thing ^-^

This is the first I got to write after the hiatus. It was such a nice thing to work on in order to get back into writing.

Demon brothers with a very clingy MC

Lucifer

As much as he would love to indulge you, he is a busy demon. He can't always be by your side and sometimes, he needs his alone time to get rid of his nerves.

Still, he tries to make time for you cause he would hate if you started to feel neglected because of his work.

Usually when he invites you over to his room to listen to music or to talk about 'important matters' it just means you'll get to be as clingy as you want with him.

He takes advantage of those times to let go of all the stress and just relax with his lover. If he drinks enough he might start venting about either his brothers or Diavolo and be generally more open.

Sometimes, when he is doing paperwork, he will let you sit on his lap to cuddle him. From time to time he will stop to check on you and give you a kiss.

Unless he is doing really important work, he will let himself be dragged away from his office by a clingy MC without putting too much of a fight. As much as he may try not to show it, he adores you and he would be more than happy to indulge a clingy MC

If he is in demon form at an event, he likes to wrap on of his wings around you to bring you closer to him.

Mammon

Already done here

Leviathan

He adores it but he is not used to it!

He isn't used to the attention, the affection, and all the spending time together.

He is an introvert, from time to time he needs time some time alone in order to recharge his social batteries. Tho, as time passes, some of the 'time alone sessions' can be 'spending time in the same room but doing different things in silence' sessions.

He adores all the cuddles and attention, but it will take him some time to get fully comfortable. He will go through some phases where he feels guilty for not being all that comfortable from the get go but that's nothing a little bit of reassurance won't solve.

He likes to wrap his tail around you when play games, either around on of your legs or waist.

He tries to convince you to either wear one of his hoodies or for you to give him one of your jackets/hoodies. He tries...but he always gets embarrassed before really saying anything.

Once he gets used to all of the attention and affection he will start being clingy too, and actually be open about it!

Satan

It would hit him pretty hard that someone wants to be that close to him in that way. Sure, there have probably been demons and witches alike that wanted to be close with him for various reasons, but this was the first time when he felt so calm and warm about it.

This feeling didn't really hit him at first, he would just be close to MC while he was reading. It really hit him one random day when he realized how little his wrath was screaming inside of him.

Whenever you decide to cuddle him he treats the same way as if a cat would sit on his lap, he is no longer allowed to move.

Would honestly take a clingy MC to different museums or exhibitions in order to both satisfy your clinginess and his thirst for knowledge.

He is quite a romantic demon from all those novels he has read, so a lot of the things you two do, especially on the days you're especially clingy, would remind him of scenes from his favourite books.

Asmodeus

No matter how clingy you may be, Asmo has you beat in that category. He is honestly the best brother for a clingy MC.

He is clingy himself, would welcome with open arms all of your affection and doesn't have any emotional baggage holding him back from being affectionate with you.

You two are basically never separated after a while. You two might as well share a room and a closet. He has no qualms about sharing clothes with you.

He likes to think about what activities would bring you even closer. And of course, there will be tons of photos, both for Asmo's enjoyment and for devilgram.

The poor guy gets so used to having you always by his side that if he has to go through a day without you he will start complaining that his affection levels are low. He will start crying about dying if you don't shower him in your affection, so go wait him in his room won't you?

Beelzebub

Would be really chill about a clingy MC. If they wanted to, he could just carry them around. He enjoys their attention and food tastes better when they are with him.

Working out? Chances are you are being used as one of his weights. Eating? Sitting in his lap. 10/10 guy to cling to.

He prefers to carry you around cause he is aware of his one track mind. If he gets too focused about either one of his hobbies, food or working out, he fears he wouldn't be able to give you as much attention as you need.

Belphegor

Be prepared to be his pillow 24/7. He will fully take advantage of you being clingy towards him to make you his nap partner.

You can't exactly get too mad at him either...you get to be clingy and he gets his sleep, with how nice and soft he feels chances are you'll fall asleep too.

Even when he isn't asleep, he likes to lean against you and generally be really close with you. He is probably as clingy as you are.

Uses his younger brother privileges to get his brothers to leave the two of you alone.

Honestly, a lot of the time it would be enough if he was able to sleep in the same room you're in, even if you aren't cuddled up with him, but if he can convince you to put off for later whatever you were working on why wouldn't he? He is the avatar of sloth after all.

[kunikame]

# PURPLE LILACS !

[10] - a sudden.. !! | prev. | m. list | next

ace trappola x fem!reader smau

! warning(s) : cussing, sebek gets stepped on (literally), death mention, not canon compliant turn of events for plot, crowley, no beta we die like ortho shroud, love u guys btw

! w/c : 761

and so on a sunny wednesday lunch break you find yourself sitting at your usual table, surrounded by your fellow first years. you spot jade a few tables away, menacingly glaring at some poor unfortunate student, and send him a quick wave when your eyes meet.

“–nd i kid you not he genuinely folded. so like the great person i am, i used the newly placed hallway carpet.”

“ya stepped on him?!” a few droplets of apple juice land near your plate. you shoot a quick look at epel, only to see the rest of the table doesn’t look much better, since he spat all the juice in his mouth out at this newfound piece of information (read: blackmail material).

deuce sighs in his seat to your left, “yeah, he did. i had to watch malleus’ face go from perplexed to absolutely horrified in the span of barely 5 seconds because of him. thought we were gonna die.”

epel finds this unfathomably hilarious. sebek, however, has not spoken in the past 10 minutes, despite usually being the loudest of the group. you feel a little bad for him– the poor thing has just been staring at his plate with a scarlet face this whole time. yet just as you open your mouth to try to console him, lilia appears out of seemingly thin air, hanging upside down directly in front of your face.

“hey faestie!~ a little bat told me the headmage has something important to discuss with you! you best hurry before he changes his mind, kuhuhu~”

and just as swiftly as he appeared, he also vanished. where his face once was, you now see the horrified eyes of jack and epel, and sebeks full face for the first time today.

you turn to the right to glance at ace with an eyebrow raised, silently asking if they've done anything bad without your knowledge. he shakes his head, fluffy ginger hair flying with the motion, and gives you a concerned look (which seems a little out of place on his face when directed at you, but you quickly dismiss the thought).

“i’ll be fine,” you say, slowly getting up from your spot and cleaning up your mess, “it’s probably just another unpaid job he wants me to do. i’ll see you guys later.

“with all due respect, what the fuck?”

crowley lets out the most offended gasp you've ever heard, “that is no way to be speaking in my office! this is unacceptable behavior! but since i am so gracious, i shall let it pass, because you have clearly not yet processed my generous offer.”

you heave an exasperated sigh, the seven know you're tired of this, “if i heard you right, you basically just said i have magic? like, actually? you're joking, right? i mean, come on, i've been here for like half a year and the only magic i can produce is manslaughter. be so for real with me right now.”

crowley's glowing eye twitches (at least, you think it does. it’s really hard to tell, honestly) “yes, that is basically what i said. see, the carriage did not bring you here by mere accident, despite it being through..”  he pauses, taking a seat in his gigantic chair, “unfortunate means. if it brought you here, it means it sensed something within you. so i’ve had some tests run in the background, and as it turns out, you do have a magical affinity, it just seems to be suppressed.”

you fall into the chair opposite him. whether it was because of your knees giving out from pure disbelief, or just because of how tired you are of everything, you're not really sure.

“.. okay, so what does that mean for me?”

“it means you can use magic once we figure out how to unlock it. it means you can continue studying here as an actual student.”

you blankly stared at the wall, thinking your choices through thoroughly.

you can't go back to your world unless you want to be dead, so having a place to stay would be great. if you had magic it would certainly make life, and your classes, much easier. you would no longer have to rely on grim or the guys to protect you in case of an overblot, either. it sounded great, overall.

“so? what will it be?”

your eyes slowly moved from the window to crowley's glowing ones.

your parents would feel more at peace knowing you could protect yourself in a foreign world (if they remembered you, that is).

“alright. let’s do it.”

## ❝ after the events of the phantom bride wedding, ace started wondering whether he still had the ability to charm girls. he hasn’t thought about anyone romantically in years, hasn’t really flirted with anyone either, what if he’s gone out of it? perhaps it’s time to put his talents to the test; with the person who hates him most, no less. if he can charm her, he can charm anyone. ❞

#TAGLIST ! : @solxima @gabirii @lunavixia @y2unagiz @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @borlining @verity-moon @myunghology @doughnuts-eater @lifeless-bug @babygurlenthusiast @shirishere @xopeach @stormyovent0aster @bontensbabygirl @ars-tral @wrathy-mcwrathface @sinofthesloth @skeet-2 @everettelz @sakuram1nt @shatiyuh @ambigrueity @junebunny06 @norylight @dyedracoonhair @persm1net @meowbuscompany @sugarrush-blush @oopsie-daisy-doo @yuumei-strawberry-shortcake @jaiistg // ask/comment to be added/removed! (if you’re in bold i can’t tag you)

[chukys-mouthguard]

Passenger Princess

featuring: arber xhekaj x female reader - numerous canandiens players included

summary: arber and the habs are preparing for the biggest heist they’ve taken on. But in the midst of their preparations, arber encounters his achilles heel that brings everything into perspective

genre: organized crime family au!

note: the name of arber’s gang is “the habs”….Let me know your thoughts on this little intro to the story! Apologies if this sucks or isn’t much, i fully intend on it picking up, just felt like setting context was necessary!

The Habs are the last group of people you’d ever want to involve yourself with. Yet here you are.

Montreal’s most notorious organized crime family that run the city's underground import market. Guns, cars, drugs- they do it all. Led by Arber Xhekaj, a man whom no one would dare to cross.

A little over a year ago you found yourself caught up in a heist that went sideways. You were never supposed to be around when Arber and his guys narrowed in on a group of men who had done him dirty. Luckily you weren’t seriously hurt, though Arber insisted you go with him so he could be sure. And from that day on, you’d become the only thing that could turn him soft. Like you were his kryptonite, his one and only weakness.

Arber had followed in his father’s footsteps the day he’d begun toying with the idea of a future in the Montreal underground import trade. But he’d surpassed his father and then some once he’d become the leader of The Habs. His ability to control the illegal import trade in every category had The Habs labeled as enemy number one for all rival crime groups, which only made his life that much more exciting.

Aside from Arber, there were five other men who helped make up The Habs. Each of them having their own role within the group.

Florian was Arber’s younger brother and made up one half of the “collectors” of The Habs. If anyone owed Arber any debts, Florian would be assigned to collect. He was fairly soft spoken, definitely kept to himself amongst the group. But would go to the ends of the earth for Arber, and vice versa. Florian was the only other person, aside from you, that Arber had a soft spot for.

Kirby was the other half of the “collectors”, and probably one of the biggest pests on the planet. If talking shit was a job, he’d be employee of the month year round. His favorite part of his role, interrogating and getting under the skin of clients. Arber oftentimes has to reel Kirby in, his mouth being one of his best attributes, but also a major caveat that got him trouble religiously.

Cole was honestly the one key to The Habs you still don’t quite understand, but it works. He’s one of the smartest dumb people you’d ever met. He was responsible for all the undercover work that helped gather information for safer heists and collections. He was never someone that would be suspected, and that’s what made him perfect for his role. Able to gain intel that would seem nearly impossible to gather otherwise, but Cole had his ways.

Juraj was the foreign piece to the puzzle, having connections overseas that helped with getting anything needed from outside of Canada. He played a crucial role in finding partners overseas that could help guarantee continuous flow of imports for all of Arber’s clients. The Habs would be nothing without Juraj’s connections, as they have kept The Habs ahead of anyone else when it comes to what they are able to push. Though he is young, his knowledge exceeds his years when it comes to bringing in guns, cars, and drugs.

Last but not least, Nick. The sole reason The Habs can do anything successfully. Nick is the brains behind so many drops and heists. His bedroom at Arber’s mansion was filled with more tech equipment than a Best Buy. Always coming up with new security measures for the group, or mapping out the safest escape routes if deals go south. Nick was the main reason you ever felt safe being along for the ride on any of Arber’s drops. He was always two steps ahead, ready for any situation a client or other gang might try to throw at The Habs.

Your role within The Habs was simple: don’t get caught in the middle of anything. Arber had made it clear once the two of you had started dating that he couldn’t handle anything ever happening to you. The day you’d come into his life had been a lot for him to begin with. And he swore that he’d never let anything bad ever happen to you again. But his line of work almost made that promise seem impossible for him to keep.

Most of the time you went along for the ride when Arber was doing smaller deals, or when it was routine business that posed no threats. Rarely would Arber include you if there was the possibility of weapons being necessary. And the others had come to learn that as much as the drugs and guns were important to protect; you were Arber’s most prized possession.

[lbulldesigns]

Wild Rune Foreshadowing Jayce, Heimendinger, and Ekko's roles in the coming episodes

I just had this sudden epiphany about the true significance of Jayce, Heimendinger, and Ekko's scene in the Wild Rune at the end of Act I.

The way that the Wild Rune distorts them is basically showing us what they are experiencing individually and foreshadowing their roles in the rest of the season.

Jayce:

We have this, honestly, really cool loop of Jayce which stands out from Heimendinger and Ekko's distortion. For one he's in tack, he isn't splintering apart or anything. Two, he looks at his previous self before facing forward which indicates that he's stuck repeating himself until we get to the end where he looks horrified at the Wild Rune and asks "what have we done" before attacking it with his hammer.

And going by how worn-out Jayce looks in Act II, his dialogue with Viktor, plus him just instantly attacking Viktor on sight. All points towards Jayce having been stuck in a time loop, and episode 6 is him finally breaking out of it.

I think the Wild Rune put him through this particular hell because it wants Jayce to fix his mistakes, but considering Jayce's habit of making decisions without fully thinking ahead (i.e. his deal with Silco, resurrecting Viktor, building the failsafe in a location that he didn't thoroughly vet first and making sure was safe) and then regretting said actions once things go wrong, the time loop could be the Wild Rune's way of forcing Jayce to make his mistakes until he either learns from them or learns to avoid them.

The glitching out we see before he shoots Viktor, going by Riot's way of showcasing mental struggles with individual characters i.e. Jinx seeing scratches and neon sketches when she has a breakdown, him splitting apart into more of himself can be a nod towards him reliving this experience again and again and again. He was prepared to talk at this point, and then he just starts shooting instead.

Heimendinger:

Now, onto Eldricheimer.

I've seen a lot of Biblically Accurate Heimendinger jokes going around, and this is mostly because of how his face splits apart and his eyes multiply.

I don't think the animators put this in just to show how disturbing the Wild Rune is, I think they wanted us to actually think of Eldrich beings when looking at him. For those who aren't well versed or know about H.P. Lovecraft's work, the Eldrich horrors in his stories share the same concept. They're creatures so ancient that looking upon them will drive you insane. They break the laws of our nature and are often hard to describe, much like biblically accurate angels who are described as having many eyes.

The reason why either of these beings are difficult to understand or describe is because they basically shoot knowledge straight into your brain, they show you the answers to the universe, but because our minds can't hold that much information, we go insane and perceive what we are experiencing as a horrific experience.

When Heimendinger is affected, his body is being held still and is facing forward. His arms are held stiffly by his side, as if he's being forced. And then his eyes splinter from his face and multiply (even on the wall behind him), with his many eyes staring outwards in wide eyed in horror.

The Wild Rune is forcing Heimendinger to look. It's forcing a person who has stayed so consistently and ignorantly blind to the point of sheer stubbornness to actually look.

Heimendinger, as we all know, doesn't take accountability for his actions. He is 200 years old, he assisted in the founding of Piltover, he lead the council throughout that time, and has basically allowed Zaun to fall so stupidly and pointlessly into destitution because he wouldn't look at what was happening in front of him. He stayed focused on his pride and joy, Piltover.

I speculate that, if we go by the theme we have so far with time distortion, that Heimendinger is being made to watch everything both past and future. This would drive a normal person insane, but Heimendinger is basically immortal therefore his mind would be able to handle the information overload; you don't live through centuries without being able to compartmentalize hundreds of years of memories.

And going by his League description, Heimendinger is a scientist that vows to understand the knowledge of the universe, both natural and magic. This is how we are going to get the unhinged Heimendinger who build mecha T-Rex's as shown in his splash art.

Ekko:

I thought that this was a pretty cool shot not gonna lie, I 100% believe that Ekko isn't dead, I mean we all understand his game counterparts history with time and there are still scenes with him that we haven't seen yet, so the revalation that his is a-okay is not that ground breaking.

But I really like where the writers and animators are going in regards to him acquiring his time manipulaton abilities for the show. Him creating a time machine because his a genius is good and all, but how much more poetic is it that he learns to master time by being taught by time itself and using both his newly acquired knowledge and his expertise in tinkering and inventing to then make the Z-Drive.

The boy who shattered time, being shattered apart.

And we all understand where his story is gonna go from here, he is going to be able to rewind time to fix things. Perhaps the Wild Rune imparted this knowledge onto him to counteract any mistakes that jayce would make, or to ensure that the best outcome would be achieved for whatever crisis (possible Void invasion) may be coming.

Or maybe it saw his wish to save Powder/Jinx from herself, but because fate has had a trajectory already outlined refuses to let him go that far back.

Perhaps the events of episode 6 are where the Wild Rune will allow this fate's story to be manipulated, like rewritting a chapter to determine a better ending to the book. There could be a chance that Jinx will play a pivitol role in the events to come, and that her dying before the upcoming battle will ensure a bad outcome... Or that could just be my own wishful thinking, I don't know.