#like i should probably just eat and drink water however.

[maraczeks]

+

[alastorss]

I really enjoyed the "touching Alastor's antlers" fic! Good stuff! I was wondering if I could request reader playing with his hair and braiding it maybe? Thanks for being great! Drink water and eat a snack :p

a/n: hello!! thank you for your kind words ^ ^ i hope you enjoy this fluff!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor can't pinpoint when exactly you developed such a strange habit of playing with his hair.

He first noticed it when Angel started giving him funny looks, pointing out the braids in his hair and that they were rather charming. Of course, the Radio Demon was quick to dismiss the star's claims that they suited him.

After that, he began finding little braids in his hair with or without others seeing them first. Like, for example, he would see them when he was dressing in the morning and peering into a mirror. Or other times he would see his reflection in his deep mug of coffee. They were less of a nuisance and more of a mystery than anything.

It had to be your work, surely. No one else would ever think to do something so pointless to him. And if this were some weak attempt to humiliate him in front of his peers, anyone else wouldn't have dared.

However, he never had any real evidence that it was you messing with him.

He should probably do something about it. It would be bad for his reputation if word got out that he kind of liked the delicate work of your fingers.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Once he's had enough of the mystery, Alastor decides to catch you in the act.

He turns his back to you on purpose, hogging the blankets as he always does, and pretends to be asleep. And just as he expected, your hands are in his hair less than ten minutes later.

Glaring at the wall, he lets you finish whatever it is you've done to his locks before he suddenly spins around in the bed to face you.

Satisfaction fills him as you yelp, scooting back in the sheets and sitting upright fast as lightning.

"You were awake?!"

Alastor just stares at you with narrow, unamused eyes.

"So it is you!"

You swallow loudly, nervously fidgeting with the blanket as the demon sits up in bed beside you. He scrutinizes your reaction, how shy you look, and his smile softens.

"It helps me sleep," you admit awkwardly. He watches as you fiddle with your fingers, unable to meet his eyes.

Alastor sighs with an exasperated shake of the head. "You simply could have told me, darling. No need to keep such a silly little thing a secret."

You perk up at his words. "You don't mind?"

He minds less than he'd like to admit, really. It also explains why he's been the little spoon so often lately.

"Not at all."

You breathe a slow sigh of relief before you're dragged into his arms. He lets you mess around with his hair that night, too. And he stays up a bit longer until your hands fall limp against the pillow beside his head.

The next day, Angel is surprised to see that the oh-so-feared Overlord has quite a few braids left in his hair.

He decides they suit him after all.

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling (send an ask to be added!)

[tbaluver]

HIIII ,can I request headcanons when the reader likes to play video games and sometimes spend too much time on them ,and how will LaDs boys react , or will they play with her ?

Take your time!

Have a nice day/ night σ(≧ε≦σ)

When You're A Gamer- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff and silly a/n: HIII anonnie !! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i hope this was okay i added a couple more like if you were a gamer and also i didn't know how to title this which is why it takes me so long to post (╥﹏╥) anyways i hope you enjoy reading and i hope you have a nice day/ night angel ! (˘ ³˘)♥ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He watches you play and sometimes joins whenever he can whether it’s multiplayer or you let him try it out. He'll bring snacks and water and offers to feed you while you play.

Your cheerleader from the sidelines. Whenever you get stressed on a certain level or puzzle or anything competitive, he'll always cheer you on and tell you that you're doing so well. When you do win or complete something, he'd be so proud of you! He'll have a soft smile, peppering multiple sweet kisses on your face.

Tries to help you as much as he can with anything puzzle or choice-story based games. But when you both give up, he'll end up looking it up for the both of you.

Whenever the game gets too challenging, he'll offer some gentle massages or that you should rest your eyes, leaving both of you to cuddle and unwind together, easing away the stress.

When you play video games on the living room TV, he would position himself between your thighs, watching your gameplay. It wouldn’t take him long to drift off to sleep with his head resting comfortably against your tummy.

Zayne:

He doesn’t mind it but he will remind you often to make sure to stretch when you play for too long and that you eat and drink plenty of water. And he will most definitely scold you if you miss your meals because you didn’t want to lose a round in a game

He’ll make sure to leave snacks and water by you whenever you’re playing a video game. Sometimes he’ll leave a blanket or drape a cozy blanket over you before returning to his laptop to work, ensuring you’re comfy while he focuses on his tasks.

He'll sit right beside you, gently massaging one of your free hands. Zayne is always attentive to your well-being, so whenever you lose a game or whenever the game becomes too challenging, he'll suggest taking a short walk outside to get some fresh air and to stretch your legs.

He does get curious when he sees you on your console or pc. He hears you laughing or possibly raging about a game and he wants to know what’s happening. When you let him try out a game, he’ll prefer to watch you first before trying it out.

It’s honestly cute when he’s focused. He’d listen to your guidance and he’s a very patient learner, he never gets frustrated whenever he doesn’t get something right the first time. Eventually he quickly picks up the mechanics of each game, often surpassing your skills in no time! He just has natural hand-eye coordination.

Rafayel:

He’s probably the most out of these four to be bothered that you play video games a lot. He’s literally offended that you think spending all your time playing video games is a better time than spending time with him but he’s literally busy with his paintings whenever you're on your game.

Eventually he will cave and join in and watch you. Until he wants to play. and he. does. not. give. the. controller. back. until he wins. He would look at you with a pout whenever he loses, hoping you would erase that from your memory.

He’s actually not bad at playing video games and mostly wins whatever games you play. However, if it was a gacha game and you ask him to do your pulls because he’s your ‘good luck’ charm, his ego would soar. But if he ends up losing your 50/50, he’ll blame you and it was definitely not because of him that he lost.

You two would stay up so late playing, immersed in gaming. Most of the time he’d simply watch you play, offering some enthusiasm and being your cheerleader or sometimes he’d be your backseat gamer. He’d be right beside you, shaking you in excitement and pointing at the screen, completely immersed with you in the game.

Over time, he picks up your gaming lingo and eventually incorporates it into your conversations and text messages, sometimes leaving Thomas confused about the nonsense you two talk about.

Sylus:

He would pass by the living room and see you and the twins playing video games and he would be a little curious. He doesn’t understand at first what's so intriguing about it but then suddenly he’s doing that dad stance by the tv, clearly intrigued. He’d be mostly intrigued if it were games that involved fighting or action and he would be SAT on that couch watching you play.

He’d likely point out that the guns and fighting strategies in those games aren’t very realistic. But he’s also very quick to praise you, cheering you on whenever you land a perfect shot or execute a great move. A skilled hunter in person and in game? He’s impressed and very proud of his girl.

He’d have his arm relaxed against the back of the couch while you rest your head in his lap, engrossed in your game. He loves listening to you share your thoughts about the games you play, finding it utterly adorable to hear you talk about your many interests. He pays close attention, wanting to remember every detail about it so he can discuss them with you more in the future.

He mostly watches you play and sometimes when you offer to let him play, he'll try it out! He's good at the games because he's watched you enough to see how the games work and he's listened to you talk about it a lot! But when he loses really badly, he's kind of a sore loser, making up excuses how the game isn't as realistic in real life.

Sylus will buy things to make your gaming setup more comfortable! Knowing how often you game, he’ll surprise you here and there with a better gaming chair or a headset, along with any upgrades that will make your gaming experience more comfy!

While he’s away working, he’ll text you reminders to eat and stretch, and let you know when your favorite food is on the way, ensuring you can enjoy a meal while you game.

[youraverageaemondsimp]

“My darling.” // CelticSlave!Aemond Targaryen x VestalVirgin!Reader

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

MDNI.

block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to avoid seeing dark content from me.

Summary: Fetching water a little later than usual shouldn't really affect much of your life right? You're wrong, and you wouldn't find out until you found a celtic slave in a bad condition named Aemond.

WARNINGS: extreme noncon to dubcon, unprotected p in v sex, blood kink, degradation, breeding kink, violence, blood, murder, slight angst, stockholm syndrome(?), reader basically falls in love with Aemond even though he nonconned her, manipulation. not exactly historically accurate, this is just fiction so do not take it heart, hoping it isn't offensive, + not proofread // requested by @slytherincursebreaker !!

WC: 3.5k

You were an illegitimate daughter of a politician in your country, taken away from your mother to keep the scandal underground, you never had an easy life and your father only did the bare minimum, and to say your step mother and half siblings did not like you at all, they saw you as a pest more than anything, when the pontifex maximus was choosing vestal virgins to serve the goddess vesta, he had eyes for your family, specifically your sister but she did not want to go, and so they sent you instead, seizing the opportunity to get rid of you.

It did not mean you were fully free from their clutches however, as you grew in the monastery you were always slightly discriminated against but the other 5 priestess, having heard the rumours about your bastardised birth. But you still managed to get by, you remember how earlier this morning your half sister came to visit you, telling you that she is to be married soon, she came to rub it in your face because you were sworn to celibacy, and you could not engage in activities like such. She even bought her suitor along, who you swore looked at you with such lust, and you felt very creeped out.

This is why you deliberately didn't go and fetch water from the spring earlier today, he often came to visit the temple and watched you perform your duties to the goddess vesta.

Choosing to fetch water at such a late time shouldn't have any repercussions right? I mean, you did not do it earlier because you had a reason not to, not wanting to entertain the eyes of your half sister's suitor, so you're doing it now.

Wrong.

You didn't realise the threat back then, when you found Aemond being beaten up by a bunch of other men, kindness was something that came to you naturally, seeing him in such a state made your heart wrench, you shooed off the other men, reprimanding them for their behaviour and used your status as a vestal virgin to scare them off before looking down at the man who was covered in mud, and seemed to bleeding.

He had silver blonde hair, with only one eye as the other socket seemed empty, you wondered what had happened to him.

“Are you alright?” you ask and you he groans, turning over unto his back, you should leave, you shouldn't help him, but here you are picking him up, leaning his body weight against you and bringing him through one of the secret tunnels in underneath the infrastructure of the building, it was connected directly to another country, was made to use it in order to escape from war or to invade other lands, none of the common folk knew about this, and the people who knew didn't come here often either, as there was no such need for it anymore.

You sit him down in one of the 'rooms' which is just a big spacious squared tunnel, he plops down unto the ground weak and tired, breathing heavily, you quickly went back outside and fetched the water you forgot about and gave some of it for him to drink, you watched as he whimpered, swallowing in pain before he finally looked at you.

“T-thank you.” his voice was so weak, he was barely able to get any words out.

You gave him a gentle smile, and you realised that it was probably late, you had many questions for him but you kept it to yourself for now because you didn't want to bother him anymore, so left back to the temple where you resided.

“Why are you up so late?” you heard the head vestal ask, raising an eyebrow as she took in your appearance, mud covering your prestigious clothing, “I went to fetch the water head priestess, but I fell down on the way back.” you lie looking down, hoping she believes it, and to your surprise, she does believe it, she tells you to go to your quarters after putting the water down, so you do just that.

You visit the badly hurt person from yesterday once again, you knew you were not supposed to have any type of contact with a man, to remain pure as they will taint you, but you really could care less when its about helping others, you found him lying on the ground, likely sleeping, but your footsteps woke him up and he looked at you curiously, you gave him a small smile before giving him the bread you managed to sneak out without anyone noticing, along with water, you gave it to them and sat down, he reluctantly ate it before drinking the water. “Why are you doing this?” he asked you and you shrugged, “Is it so wrong to help a fellow human out?” you question back and he goes quiet, “You i never really got your name, or how you ended up in that situation.” you tilt your head as you watch him purse his lips.

“I am a celtic sex slave.”

You froze, he was a slave.

“My mistress threw me out, and I ended up on the streets without any shelter, and those men just wanted someone to mess with.” he sighs, swallowing the bread. You felt pity for him.

“Till you found me of course, I am extremely indebted to you my lady.” he says and you shake your head no, “I’m no lady, I am a vestal virgin that title is not of my belonging.” You said, and he tilted his head, not understanding what you had meant, he nodded but then his eyes widened “This is such an honour to be in the presence of such a being, sorry you must see me in this state, and… You had to touch me as well.” he apologises and you look down, you shake your head and tell him that it's okay and you did not mind.

You and Aemond had grown closer, he would tell you about his life before he became a sex slave, how he was treated, how you felt extremely bad, how your people treated the Celtics. And so you shared your problems in return as well, he provided you comfort which you lacked all of your life, for the first time you felt wanted, and you could not ignore the feeling that was starting to bloom inside you.

But you pushed it down, you are a celibate, you should not be feeling such things.

Aemond had taken a liking to you, you had a pretty soul as well as a pretty face, the way you looked in your white clothing, and whenever you would fix your scarf over the head afraid that your hair or skin would show made him more curious to see what is underneath the thick robes of clothing even more. He knows damn well that he isn't the first man to ever lust for a vestal virgin, there were many depraved others.

After Aemond recovered, you had showed him around the tunnels and dungeons, various routes that if something happens he can use them to escape, and you also showed the route which led to his country, and he noted it, telling you that he can use this to go back to his own people again and you gave him a small smile.

Though the thought of him leaving makes your heart wrench.

“Aemond, I have to go and attend to my duties now, I will meet you later okay?” you say quickly before leaving.

Though the later never came.

“She was caught sneaking around with a slave apparently, she kept him hidden, surely she committed adultery as well.” you heard the voice of the chief priestess tell the priest.

“That is utmost dishonourable, as a vestal virgin you are sworn to celibacy, how can you do this?!” He yells at you and you flinch, tears streaming down your face.

“I promise! I promise on the flame of vesta that nothing happened between us! I was just helping him out.” you plead on your knees.

“How can I believe you? That you are not ruined? You were helping a sex slave out? you want me to believe that?” he questions and you shake your head.

“Order her death by live burial, she will be buried underground with no food or water.” he commands, tone final.

You watched as one of the virgins who snitched on you, she smiled cruelly and your face turned into a scowl. She was the one who wasn't a virgin, yet you kept her secret knowing what would happen if others found out, but the moment she discovered something about you? She had gone straight to the chief priestess and told her, even fed her lies.

“No! No! Please listen to me! Nothing happened between us! You can check for my virginity if you want! Please.” you cried, at the priest and he simply dismissed you.

You were grabbed by his guards and were being led to your doom, dragged out of the temple forcefully and then the trial was processing when you heard a commotion, accompanied by panicked screams.

“There has been a rebellion! The celtics have rebelled against us!” You hear someone yell, and everyone panics, the guards that were holding you quickly let go before rushing off to fight, you run after them and go to the temple as well, eyes widening in horror as you saw the blood and how few of priestesses were being violated brutally by the rebels, their clothes were being torn by the celtic soldiers and you were spotted by two men who came over to you, grabbing you by your hands and shoving you onto the ground.

“This one's pretty, let me have her cunt first.” you screamed at them to let go and they fought against them, kicking one of them in the shins cause the man to stumble and fall, “This bitch–”

“Stop.”

They both immediately froze up and turned around, and you froze as well, recognizing the voice. “This one is mine, unless you want your heads fucking cut off, fuck off.” he spits harshly at them, and they bow their head before scurrying off and you furrow your eyebrows, Aemond looks at you with a smirk, the empty eye socket from before now held a blue sapphire in its place snuggly.

“This would not have been possible without you, I shall spare you for this.” he begins, pulling you up on your legs by the hair.

“W-why are you doing this?!” you asked in fear and Aemond shrugged before explaining, “For the benefit of my people of course, you Romans have treated us as nothing but barbarians, however I do not blame you for that, you are a kind soul.”

“I threw my life away for this, let myself get touched by filthy hands for this moment, and finally, it was all worth it in the end.” he chuckles cruelly, and you scrunch your face in a scowl, “The emperor—” you begun but you are quickly cut off by him yanking your hair and making you face where a body was laying, head detached from the body, he tuts, “This one?” he pulls out a head and shoves it right up into your face and you push it away, screaming, he lets gos of the head and it falls to the ground rolling away.

“He was nothing but a coward, running off in the secret tunnels, letting his people die, unworthy of ruling over the people, so instead, I became the new emperor.” he clarifies.

“If you are going to kill me, just do it already.” you spit, and he looks surprised at this.

“Doll, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it long ago, besides I said that I would already spare you, since you were a kind soul, and once again, without you, I would not be here.” he smiles cruelly and you feel your stomach twist.

His grip on your hair leaves before it's attached to your forearm, hand gripping the skin cruelly as he drags you somewhere, and you noticed that it was the head priestess room, the nearest one in the temple. You quickly realised what he wanted to do, so you started struggling, annoyed by this, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, before carrying and entering the room inside, securing the curtain shut before he threw you on the bed.

You try to get up and run away but he pushes you on the bed, gets on top of you, and yanks your clothes away, tearing at your robes harshly, revealing your body to him, you quickly hide yourself but he pins your hands to your side and takes in your body, he groans at the sight of your chest heaving up and down, you wriggle underneath him, trying to kick him off but he captures your legs and pushes them apart before planting himself in between them.

“No! Please! No!” you cry out but he shuts you up with one of his hands, the other one quickly undoes his breeches, revealing his hard cock, he gives himself a few pumps and lines it up against your entrance. His tip prods at your entrance, he doesn't wait a second before shoving his cock inside of you, ripping your walls apart, making you scream in pain as you struggled beneath him, he watches as your blood leaks onto his cock, and his smiles at that before he looks at you, watching tears stream down your face as he takes what he wants, he immediately sets his pace at a brutal one, ramming his cock in and out of you.

Each movement was painful for you, your cries and screams muffled by his hand, your body jolting up the bed as he brutally thrusts inside, traumatising your walls, the free hand grips your breasts cruelly before he pinches your nipple harshly, causing you to arch your back, and whine loudly.

Using the least amount of strength you have you push him heavily off, and to your luck it works cause he is caught off guard making him fall next to you, and before you could get up and run, he grabs your waist and pushes you back onto the bed again, getting on top of you and choking your neck with both his hands.

“I was going to spare you, but it seems you do not want that, take it or fucking die.” he spits on your face and you wince, crying out once again as he enters inside you.

Your body betrays you, you know it when it suddenly starts to feel good, his tip hitting a certain spot inside of you, and soon you're moaning as well, unable to process this foreign sensation. “Yeah, that's more like it, my brave girl.” he coos and bends down to kiss your neck and you whimper when he bites down at your sensitive area.

You grab onto his shoulders for support, and he hums in satisfaction, one of his hands travel down to your clit before rubbing fast circles it, and you felt your stomach tighten at that, before something snapped and you were moaning extremely loudly, nails digging into his skin as the pleasure hit you like a huge wave.

You cried out his name, and he hushed you and continued to thrust inside of you, grunting, you felt his thrusts become more sloppy before he halted, pushing himself into you as far as he could go, and moaned as his seed spurted out of him, he slowly rode it out, painting more of your walls white.

“I want to see you pregnant.” his hand rests on the lower part of your abdomen, as he caresses it gently with his thumb, before pulling out and leaning down to pepper kisses on the area, as if a kiss will ensure your pregnancy.

His hands fondle with your boobs, thumbs flicking the nipples as he massages the flesh, “they will be filled with milk..” he says in a daze.

You saw him getting hard again and your eyes widened, before you could get up on your elbows, he pushed you down once again again, holding your legs apart and pushing them up, making the knees bend, touching your chest.

He lines his cock before shoving it brutally inside again, he trapped you in a mating press while he thrusted above, your walls drummed with pain at the overstimulation, you were whimpering.

“Fucking it take it you slut, look at how your expression matches that of a whore.” he degrades you, hips snapping at each words, you felt a sting in your heart at his mean behavior.

“This is what you were made for, to be a fucking whore that men can use, not a vestal virgin, having this much of a perfect cunt and wasting it is unbelievable.” he groans and you feel tears start to fall down at his insults.

He pulled back and groaned at the sight of how there was still blood covered on his cock, your blood which coated him so perfectly, and he felt him nearing his edge, his hand gripped your cheeks before forcing your mouth open and then he spit into it, “Swallow, you whore.” he commands and you obey scared.

“Fuck, you're my whore aren't you? my pretty little whore who will let me fuck my children into.” he moans. “I can't wait to make you mine, my empress who will rule along with me, give me children, my darling- oh fuck—”

You felt the familiar feeling of heat arise in your stomach again, as he hits the same spot again and again, and soon enough, you're once again reaching your peak, arching your back at the intensity, he then finishes inside of you again.

That night was a nightmare, he took you multiple times, he made you take him in your mouth, and he did the same, lapping at your cunt for hours on end as he relished in your taste.

You remember passing out, unable to take anymore as exhaustion weighed upon you.

You woke up groaning, you slept like a baby, that's until you moved a little bit and your body aches like hell itself, and you get up, stretching to relieve the pain, you looked over to your side and spotted Aemond fast asleep, completely bare and then you remembered the events of the night prior.

You saw the sheets which were now covered in your blood, your virgin blood, and you were pure no more. You felt doom settle in your core but you felt relieved in a weird sense of way.

Suddenly there was a commotion outside, you gathered whatever was left of your robes before covering yourself with it, hiding your intimate parts and exiting the room.

You gasped as the scent of blood hit your nostrils, and almost threw up, but then what caught your eye made you surprised, you noticed how the head priestess, and all the people who have wronged you in the middle, tied up as the guards lazily kept them in check.

When they spotted you, they screamed insults at you and you winced, anger coursing through your veins at such an intense rate.

“My empress, look at them, look at the people who wronged you.” you heard Aemond whisper in your ear from behind you, and you got startled, you turned to look at him and you watched as he was almost naked except the sheets which were loosely held together by him on his lower body, hiding his intimate part, the same sheets which were covered in your blood.

“Look at them, see how they are still blaming you? What do you want to do huh? Does it not make you mad?” he asks and you turn your attention back to them again, it frankly does make you mad. “I would never treat you like that, I love you. My queen.”

“What do you want, my little empress?” he asks and you make up your mind.

You collect the water in a small dish and Aemond watches you in confusion, but then you make your way towards the flame of vesta, and pour water over it, putting it out and the head priestess' eyes widen in horror.

“Kill them all.” your voice was more clear than ever.

“Spare the head priestess, and that one, for they shall be buried alive.” you say coldly before you walk back to Aemond, who welcomes you in his arms.

“You heard your queen, do as she commands.” he orders his men before he escorts you away from the scene and into the room once again.

He pushes you on the bed and crawls atop of you, “I wasn't joking when I said I want you pregnant, doll.” he coos and you gulp.

“Impregnate me, my king, I want to carry your heirs.”

And that was enough to make Aemond go insane, before he took you once again.

And soon, you fell pregnant.

Giving birth to a girl, who Aemond adored.

Life seemed to be well and perfect.

Maybe you don't really regret this at all.

———

GENERAL TAGLIST ;

@watercolorskyy @cl-0-vr @chompchompluke @namelesslosers @snowystark @spookyaemond @sweethoneyblossom1 @this-isnt-madness @persephonerinyes @eltherevir @sidni3003 @aleidag1rly @cryingforlife @fan-goddess @hannaeditzs @grungegrrrl @thekinslayersswordhand @aemondsbabygirl

Bold is who I cannot tag, DM to be removed!

[bigwishes]

Hey man, my workout bro gave me a new pre-workout shake to try and it's really been helping me bulk up, but I always feel really — UUUUURRP — fuck man, I'm always really bloated after drinking them. Fuck though, they taste so good, and I've been putting on mass like crazy... I've also put on a little pudge as well, but I should be able to work that off, right?

You've been chugging that down like it's water haven't you dude, well that's fine. It was your choice to drink all of it even when the product was designed for a guy to take one serving in his whole life.

The product you took was designed to mutate the metabolism to help guys who are serious about lifting be able to absorb and process more food without it technically putting them through a bulk.

However you decided to drink a lot more than what one guy needs and its caused you to develop a lot of side effects. The first of which you've already noticed, belching non stop and always being bloated but that's just the easy stuff. Soon you'll begin to sweat like a pig and not just whilst you work out, your body will generate so much extra heat whilst it tries to turn anything you eat into size that it'll cause you to be a walking sauna, heat radiating out of your body and a cloud of steam coming off you at all times, but that steam isn't just an aesthetic, it'll reek, you might even find guys gagging from the terrible smell as you walk past. Of course making your body redirect so much nutrients isn't without its consequences, you'll probably start to notice your dick is getting smaller each day and pretty soon you won't even notice when you have a hard on, but don't worry, your pants will still be getting tighter as not only your thighs are getting bigger but the muscles in your ass are being pumped full of size getting big and swollen making it difficult to put on things like jeans.

and of course the pudge, drinking so much is causing your body to just now throw on size however it can, you'll still be mostly muscle but you'll always have a slightly jiggly layer over the top.

but lets talk about what's really going to start happening. That last sip this morning was the thing that will push you over the edge, you've fucked yourself now. You'll always be hungry, never full again. There will always be room for one more bite or one more sip of a protein shake and 100% of what you eat will be converted straight into muscle and size. There is no need for you to work out anymore, in fact its probably a waste of time to try and work out you'll gain more size by just stuffing your face.

After every mouthful you'll find yourself forced to belch, you'll always feel heavy sluggish and bloated. Feeling your mass bounce as you walk. You've earned the nickname Bubbles from your mates as whenever they hang out with you the only thing they can hear is you stomach bubbling away churning food into raw size only ever interrupted as you grumble in discomfort rubbing your tight layered abs as you belch loudly and uncontrollably

Enjoy being a big bloated beast Bubbles...

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

Under the Weather

Synopsis: You’re sick. George’s sick. Someone else is probably going to get sick. It’s an interesting last race in Abu Dhabi

young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid

A/N: this fic is pretty vague so i’m not going to give the reader a team or teammate, we just know that she’s a driver on the grid because that’s all we really need to know

. so

. you think you caught it in vegas

. it was colder than you were used to

. you barely got any sleep

. and even though you’re around hundreds of people every race weekend, las vegas felt more packed than a normal race would be

. and you were seated next to george, who’s been feeling sick for a few days at that point, for nearly all pre-race activities

. it was probably all of these combined that gave you a sore throat, stuffy nose, pounding headache, and persistent cough

. you knew the second you woke up thursday morning

. “it’s going to be a shitty weekend”

. the grid, however, did not know until thursday afternoon

. you came into the press conference room, bundled up in a long sleeve and hoodie, nose red with a scratchy voice

. you sit beside an amused lewis, resisting all urges to lay your head against the back of the couch and drift off

. “you okay y/n?”

. the only response he gets is a groan and small shake of the head

. “i’ll get you some tea when we’re done here love, you’ll be okay”

. lewis, who was always your favorite but now has new reasons to be favored, lets you rest your head against his shoulder and close your eyes while you all wait for the conference to begin

. word spreads by the end of the media day, and suddenly you have new reactions from the grid

. daniel walks through the paddock with you, never afraid of a little cough

. “lewis tells me you’ve been on your death bed over here. anything I can do?”

. he insist on giving you a hug and the recipe for chicken soup that he learned from his mum and now swears by

. max, who is afraid of a little cough, is the one who makes sure you’re not being harassed when trying to sleep

" max? who’s under the blanket-”

. “shush. she’s trying to sleep”

. “but who’s-”

. “I said shush”

. lando, a man who’s all too familiar with being clumsy, probably saves you a million times from walking into doorways, a drowsiness affect from the fever you keep insisting you don’t have

. he’ll keep a constant eye on you and hand on your shoulder as a precaution

. “let’s not go over there, that’s a wall”

. “y/n!”

. “mhm?” you’d say, eyes half closed with tiredness

. “that’s a door love, jeez, we should put a bell on you”

. carlos and charles, drivers who’ve had loads of experience taking care of sick younger siblings, make a team effort of ensuring you’re doing your best to get better

. “did you drink the water bottle I gave you?”

. “no”

. “did you drink anything today?”

. “no”

. “oh mon dieu you’re going to kill yourself like this”

. “just try to eat this okay? i know you’re not hungry amiga, but we have a race tomorrow, you need to eat something”

. “i got you more medicine, this one says it should take care of the cough and sneeze so you won’t have to worry about it during the race”

. and then there’s george, your sick partner in crime

. you two make a habit of trapping yourselves in one of your driver’s room

. half to prevent the sickness from spreading further, half to just be left alone

. you guys complain a lot

. take turns choosing movies to watch to pass the time

. reminding the other to take medicine, even though there’s a good chance that person probably hasn’t taken any medicine either

. and passing a bag of cough drops between each other

. as a teammate and friend, lewis tries to talk you two out of racing

. but neither budge

. you get into your car, nose still red and voice still scratchy

. and power through the race, just as you’d been taught to do

. george gets a podium and you get a good points finish, the best results you could’ve asked for considering the conditions

. and stumble out of your car once more, looking for a tissue and that chicken soup recipe

. you get checked on by multiple drivers, though the only response you’re able to give is a nod and thumbs up

. lewis accompanies you on your flight back home, and tries to help as much as you let him

. he feels a bit victorious when you say you wished you’d listen to him and not raced

. but the feeling is instantly replaced with sympathy for his friend, so he just nods and tells you to get some more rest

. after making sure you’re safe at home and surrounded by family and friends that swear on their hearts to take care of you, lewis leaves with congratulations on your season finish and wishes to get better

. you’re fine within a few days, you name the cause of your sickness “end of season fatiague” and ensure the drivers you made a full recovery by wednesday night

. so yeah

. it’s not fun at all to drive while you’re sick

. but it’s a bit easier when you have your friends looking out for you

short little f1 grid sick fic. let’s hope I didn’t just manifest myself a cold

[y-rhywbeth2]

D&D Vampire Lore Dump #1

Feeding and Diet It's actually more complicated than just "they bite you and eat your blood." Plus what they're able to eat; how often they need to eat; what happens to you if they bite you and what happens to them if they don't feed- spoiler: it's unpleasant. Incidentally, you should reload and kill Cazador again.

(I was comparing stuff across editions and compiling it into something more coherent and then figured I'd info dump about it in case my fixations are useful to somebody out there.)

DISCLAIMER: There are two things to note about the lore presented here: First, while the standard stat block in the monster manual is the default, in terms of lore vampires have this annoying tendency to be incredibly, stupidly varied. They are magical monstrosities ruled by the power of symbolism and superstition above anything else.

The next is that D&D is decades old, spans five editions, several settings and hundreds of writers. One guy establishes a piece of lore, and then the next picks it up goes "nah" and writes something else. I collected info from four different source books, all from different editions, which naturally don't entirely agree on how vampires work. Lore never stays consistent and may contradict itself. You may see information somewhere else from a source I don't have that contradicts what I wrote here. If you read this and like some of this stuff but not other bits, take the good and ditch the rest.

Basically, in D&D, canon is what you decide it is.

Feeding | "Biology" | Hierarchy | Weaknesses and Cures | Psychology

They only need to feed once in a 24 hour period. Vampires can survive between 3-9 months of starvation, but it's a terrible idea. -

There are three different categories of "Undead Hunger." Vampires have two of them and actually need to consume more than one thing to stay "healthy": Blood and life force. -

The blood is obvious. This is categorised as a "diet dependency." It's required to preserve their bodies and powers, and without it their powers* are suppressed as their bodies begin to shut down. *This refers to the powers a vampire gains with age; they cannot lose power they had as a newborn (the base stat blocks given for vampires and spawn given in the monster manual) A vampire requires the equivalent of 12 hit points of blood a day, or it begins to revert into a corpse-like state. Mentally they slowly regress into a desperate, mindless animal frenzy where they'll kill and drain anything containing blood they can get their hands on. Ultimately, if they don't get any blood then they revert into a corpse and they're trapped in their own body as it begins to wither and mummify. They're trapped in a coma, vaguely aware of the passing of time in flashes of awareness until somehow they are fed blood. If they ever wake up again, they will probably wake up feral and absolutely ravenous. -

Vampires rely on the victim's blood pressure to expel blood from the wound they create, lapping and mouthing at the wound rather than actually sucking on it. Being bitten is a highly pleasurable experience that victims can't help but desire, even when they know they shouldn't. -

While the damage done remains, the wounds from a Vampire bite closes itself quickly after the feeding (assuming you're still alive). It does however leave a mark. The bite mark itself is often "less than half an inch in length", and leaves behind a significant bruise that causes no pain or sensitivity to touch. Other side effects include fatigue and a weakened immune system. -

Vampires typically target sleeping victims (less likely to fight back) and favour the blood of their own race above others. So theoretically, Astarion finds elf blood tastes best. -

Drinking animal blood tastes bland and is health-wise akin to drinking tainted water: yes it might keep you alive in desperate times, but it's ultimately bad for you and will probably make you ill. That said, it has no mechanical detriments and a vampire that's forced to live on animal blood will be just as strong as its kin, but considerably bad tempered about it. -

A vampire's secondary feeding requirement is called an "inescapable craving", which means that if a vampire doesn't get that fix then their hunger begins to devour them instead. The pain is described as a spike boring into the vampire's brain, obscuring their awareness. They begin to obsess over feeding to the exclusion of everything else, they become willing to take ridiculous levels of risk to stop the hunger as they become more and more desperate. As they are consumed they become progressively more feral until they're just a rampaging mindless horror driven only by horrific hunger. For vampires, their inescapable craving is life force, which a vampire leeches from their prey through touch leaving the victim weak. Direct skin contact isn't required, if you're wearing full plate and/or the vampire is wearing gloves and they lay a hand on you they can still drain you. Mechanically these were combat abilities, energy/level draining occurred when a vampire struck a target with their own body (usually their hands). Before 5e hit them with a nerf bat, vampires could permanently weaken you this way (you could lose character levels from this). 5e also seems to have rolled life drain into the biting, so a vampire can consume your blood and energy at the same time. -

Post feeding, a vampire starts to look alive. Their skin is flushed and warm and they feel elated and energetic. In contrast, a vampire that hasn't been feeding properly becomes more corpse like and feels "sluggish" (I'm interpreting that as flu-like symptoms). It's purely emotional however, the vampire is no less capable and dangerous and suffers no mechanical penalties. -

Vampires can feed on other vampires, which is actually more filling than living humanoid blood and gives them the ability to communicate telepathically for a few hours. They don't like it though. If a vampire drinks from another vampire then they can be controlled by that vampire and the link forces them to feel affection for each other against their will until it wears off. The results of both vampires in question feeding on each other is described as "debilitating" since they both paradoxically become enslaved to the other's will and forced to "love" each other creating an absolute dysfunctional mess of control, obsession and resentment. The good news is that it only lasts a few hours. -

Some vampires can eat regular food (no nutritional value in it for them) while others would regurgitate it if they tried. As they retain their tongues, vampires can also taste food. That said, it's a bad idea for them to eat garlic, even if they can eat solid food. -

Some kinds of vampires don't drink blood. There's all kinds of weird and wonderful stuff a vampire might be required to consume instead. Spinal fluid stands out. Or the bit about ones who drain the ocular fluid from your eyes. Gale might find interesting things to talk about with the magic eating ones who prey on mages. They're much less common, probably something to do with most people not finding that very sexy. I don't think any of them exist on Toril.

[thatfreshi]

I was wondering if you could write Astarion having to tend to a very cuddly drunk female Tav. Possibly having to defend her from other people trying to take advantage of her.

This took me on a very sad adventure

TW - blood and gore, attempted sexual assault, drinking

Recommended Song: Drew Barrymore - SZA

The nice thing about no longer being on wild adventures full of tadpoles and cultists is that you and Astarion can go out drinking like normal people. While your vampiric lover thoroughly enjoys a good glass of wine, he usually stops himself at one. Perhaps he's a little paranoid about you, your safety, but he insists not to have more than one when the two of you are out together. At the house? Sure, he'll finish two bottles with you, the two of you drunkenly laughing by the fireplace, but not when danger could be afoot. You try to tell him he's just anxious, tense, that you'll be alright.

"I'd rather just make sure my love. You indulge all you want darling, I'll be fine."

In one of the more rowdy taverns, you and Astarion sit at a table off to the side, watching people get drunk and dance, bumping into strangers, sometimes fights ensue. As per usual, he nurses his singular glass. You look at him, a gleam of sadness in your eyes.

"Are you sure you don't mind? I can just skip out tonight, maybe we can just drink later, when we get back."

"Nonsense, have your fun my sweet. I insist."

You squeeze his hand.

"Alright then, I'm off to get my second... you can tell me to stop anytime!"

You tease as you slowly walk away, almost backing up into a nearby half-orc. He simply smiles at you, one of those smiles that says everything he's thinking, how he thinks you're precious, how he'd gladly never get drunk again if it meant keeping you. Years ago, he would've never given up a vice for some person. But you, you make this feeling well up in his chest, like he has to hold you close at all times, worried someone will snatch you when he's not looking. You may make fun of him for simply being a paranoid person, but you made it a million times worse.

"I'm back!"

Your voice draws out, and you return with two mugs of beer instead of just the one.

"Already going for three darling? You do remember you're a lightweight, right?"

"I'll be fine. Besides, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor is here to take me home if I throw up on someone."

You lie against his arm, starting on your second drink.

"You did eat before we left the house, right my sweet?"

You look up at him silently. He just sighs, running his hand through your hair.

"Then why did you need to go to the kitchen before we left?"

You giggle a little.

"To... pre-game!"

The laughter rings out of your throat as Astarion sighs, again, more annoyed this time.

"So you're telling me-"

"Already gettin' drunk Aster, it's a great time."

The more and more you talk, the more he realizes your words are becoming more slurred. Perhaps he should've asked before you left, made sure you at least grabbed a bite.

"Alright, you stay right here, I'm going to get you some water and a little snack."

He gets up, swiftly grabbing the two mugs off the table while you protest.

"Hey, I wasn't done with those!"

As Astarion makes his way to the bar, asking for the classic drunkard's care package, he's suddenly nervous. Had you ever been this drunk in public before? Maybe the two of you should just go home, before you somehow get your hands on any more alcohol. After thanking the barkeep for the water and some bread, he comes back through the crowd, and sure enough you have left the table.

"Gods damn it Tav."

After setting down what was supposed to be your little pick-me-up, Astarion quickly moves through the groups of people, knowing you probably just got up to dance. The bard playing tonight was quite excellent after all. However, after looking through most of the common space, you're nowhere to be found. That feeling of panic starts to well up inside of him, where he's only driven by fear. He knows you can't be far, but he also knows most of the tavern-goers here are slimy, horrific people looking for their next bag of gold. Walking through the crowd again, Astarion comes near the back entrance, and hears a conversation down one of the abandoned hallways.

"A gal like you, surprised you're here alone."

He rounds the corner, seeing you and a bulky half-elf, your arms pinned above your head. You seem nervous, but not conscious enough to realize anything is truly wrong. Astarion stalks up behind the wretched man, wrapping his dagger around the half-elf's throat.

"No so alone anymore, are we?"

Your captor surprisingly doesn't stand down.

"You won't do shit. People know me around here, important people, they'd surely have your head if something happened to me."

"Not if I hide your body well enough. And trust me, I have experience."

The two of them are un-moving for a moment as your wrists start to go numb from the pressure. You groan in pain, only causing the half-elf to grab you tighter. As Astarion goes to press his blade into the man's neck, he whips around, pushing Astarion back. Gods, he's tall. You fall back against the wall, trying to nurse the pain in your hands. As Astarion and the stranger fight, you hear the sounds of blades colliding, but your head is spinning. Perhaps he was right about the whole 'eat before you drink' thing.

You're interrupted from your thoughts when you hear a loud thump on the floor. The half-elf almost knocked Astarion out. leaving him on the ground. The stranger then turns back to you, lifting you back up from the floor, going to open the back door.

"What a find. Can't wait to enjoy you."

In that moment, while trying to get his bearings, Astarion realizes this wasn't just someone threatening you, and that disgusting feeling fills his stomach. He remembers how many times he shared his body against his will, and the adrenaline of that anger is enough to get him back on his feet. As you and the half-elf make it out the door, Astarion rushes him, tripping one foot out from under him. And then he drives his blade into the stranger's back, again, and again, and again, and again, and again. He's covered in the sinner's blood, shaking with both rage and misery. The violent display helped sober you up just a little, enough to make you realize that Astarion has killed someone behind the bar, and that it was clearly deserved. He looks up, locking eyes with you, still holding his blade down, as if the dead man needs yet another plunging strike in his back.

"Astarion?"

You ask, your voice full of uncertainty, the past few minutes still a blur. He begins to cry, putting his dagger in the ground, slowly crawling over to where you've ended up on the ground. He holds you tight, almost to the point of pain. He doesn't say anything, and you simply watch the blood pour out of the man's corpse as he grips you tight. Flooding memories cover every space of his mind, seduction, imprisonment, and most of all, Cazador's death.

"Astarion... you're hurting my arm."

You say softly, not fully aware of just how distraught he is, still far too inebriated. You're sad though, because he's sad, and you can't quite put together why. He lets go, wrapping his arms under his legs, crying into his knees. You try to comfort him, despite your state.

"It's okay, it's over now."

You don't even know what's over, but if someone is dead and Astarion is still alive, he must've ended it.

"I know."

He chokes out those two pathetic words, looking back up at you.

"We need to leave."

The survival instinct kicks in, knowing he can't explain why this man has at least five stab wounds in his back. The second one of the bartenders finds this, it'll be over.

"Come, this way, we're going to take the back alley."

Snatching up your arm, Astarion leads you through the darkness, mumbling things to himself that you can't quite hear. The two of you move quickly through the night as you stumble around behind him. When the two of you get home, he gets you some water, leading you upstairs so you can lie down.

"Are you okay?"

Such an innocent question. He knows you'll remember tomorrow, that it's not like you're blacked out or anything, just confused.

"I'll be fine my dove. Get some rest now, it's alright."

It's as if he's trying to convince himself, but it's enough for you in your drunken stupor. You curl up into the heavy blanket cast across the bed, and he leaves a kiss on your head. Not long after, you're drifting off to sleep, exhausted.

As Astarion makes his way to the bathroom, he thinks of the horrific things that could've happened, of how cruel humanity is. He thinks about how you have to be the only truly good person in all of Faerûn. He'll never get all the blood off his face, not while you're asleep. His mirror, his sun, his everything, and you were almost tainted the very same way he was.

When you wake up the next morning, Astarion isn't in bed. You try to reach out groggily, looking for that embrace, only to be left with cold sheets. Thinking back on the night before, the memories start to filter in. The drinks, the half-elf, the stabbing, and Astarion sobbing. The full picture isn't entirely there, but there's enough pieces for you to realize. That man, he found you drunk in the tavern, and tried to take advantage of you.

You stumble out of bed, walking down the stairs, rubbing your eyes.

Astarion is in the kitchen, drinking some tea, his eyes bloodshot. You don't say anything, slowly walking up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist, holding him tight. He puts his tea down and rests his head on yours.

"Are you alright my love?"

"I'm fine. Are you alright?"

You make some space again, looking up at him, holding his hands in yours. They start to shake again, rage and misery. You move a piece of hair out of his face.

"He didn't do anything to me love, I'm okay."

"Just- the thought of- I-"

He tries to hold back the tears again.

"It's okay, you can cry. It's going to be okay."

With that allowance, the permission to let go, he cries again.

"I don't ever want you to feel like that Tav, the way I felt. It's so, disgusting."

"I know, but it's over Aster. It's over now. You're okay, we're okay."

You wrap around him again, and he continues to weep.

"I love you, so much, and they didn't ruin you, I promise."

That worry, that he'll never be the same, that he's forever fractured now, that a piece of him is gone. Innocence, what a loaded word. Those who are guilty make the innocent feel guilty, and those who are guilty feel powerful, and the cycle continues, always continuing. You stand in the kitchen for a long time, letting him get all of the pain out, your shirt sleeve wet with his tears.

"I just wish I didn't have to be scared anymore."

You frown, thinking on his statement, knowing that no one is ever truly safe. You'll both live in fear forever, of those that think cruelty is accomplishment.

"I know."

It's all you can say, because you can't lie and tell him there's a day he won't have to be scared, that one day all the monsters of the world will be gone. There's nothing to learn, no moral, no mistake to fix, just pain. Pain caused by those who greed after anguish.

"Do you think I've changed? Or am I just as I was, a scared, beaten slave?"

"Gods Astarion, of course you've changed. It's the world that hasn't. We're better than them though, even if that's all we have."

Neither of you reach any resolution, nothing that makes you feel better. Instead, you sit on the sofa by the fire, watching the wood go up in flames, softly speaking about the suffering. You lie in each other's arms, sad. Misery loves company, and the two of you sit in that aura of grieving for a long time, grieving his past, grieving what could have been a kinder world. But here, in this sacred space, where feelings are free to run wild, where you can cry as much as you need, that's the only place you're truly safe. And that's alright, as long as it's together.

[jazeswhbhaven]

An Unslighty Guy | React | SPOILERS

WELCOME BACK TO GEHENNA LOVELIES. Let's jump right in by me saying that I love the fact that Paimon is a social media content creator. It makes complete sense for him to be. This also reminds me that it's canon that Orias is also a content creator trying out facial products/makeup etc. I wonder if he links up with Paimon and Eligos at all.

Anywayssss he's filming for the meeting that happens every 5 years, and everyone is like yeah it's noisy around this time because of Sitri and Amy....lmao

and pointing out that Eligos follows Paimon's channel is very cute. However from Mammon's event it's possible that Eligos is older than Paimon (so he'd be the senior to Paimon's junior)

so ya'll remember when Ppyong was annoyed as fuck during Chapter 6 with all of those girls at the cafe wanting a picture with him and wanting autographs, etc. It seems the same thing carries over to Hell and he can't stand popularity but he's popular anyway. He's even rude to the fans and they don't even care they just eat it up and say they'll drink toilet water for him at this rate. I'm just like HELLO? lmao

Leraye is concerned, but Paimon teases him by telling him "when you're older you'll understand why they like him so much" and that confirms Leraye is possibly the youngest out of the Gehenna nobles. I really do wish they'd come out with an age chart or something to make this shit eaiser I STG.

Then here comes these two cuties, and Astaroth tries his hand an interpreting what Zagan is saying, but he got it wrong like completely wrong lmao

It's cute because he even gets bummed about it and has to pet Apophis for comfort and I'm just like AWH HE WANTS TO TRANSLATE FOR THE BAB.

I wonder if it's just something he wants to be able to do just because or if he truly wants to help Zagan and they are close like how Paimon and Leraye are usually hanging out together all the time.

But the meeting is about to begin and Ppyong asks if Amy is showing up and well....

Sitri is great at fucking acting because the way I thought he was being foreal for a second like how everyone thought Belial was dead at the beginning of Chapter 1 lmao

Amy came in like "the fuck I am, what's good?"

I feel like personally Amy would use any and every insult known to man to throw at Sitri because he just has that much of disdain toward him and I really am itching to know why that is. I swear it's probably over something super fucking petty or small.

So we're all like omfg Sitri just sat up here and wished death on this man. Yes. Yes he did.

But they give us some insight on Amy's importance to Gehenna's army. He handles a lot of the localized battles to make sure that there's no help needed from the capital. I'm not very familiar with battle jargon so as I see simply...he's the guy that handles the little stuff so the larger scale battles can be focused on more by the other nobles and their subordinates. This sounds way more organized and detailed than our little battles don't it? Since we only have like six characters to work with lmao

But he wears Satan's jumpsuit design and so do the others in his company, so everyone knows him that way. And it turns out he's quite well liked. Sitri too.

Is it just me or is Amy taller than Sitri? I need age and height charts n a o.

But as per usual the wording always throws me off, because "hot rough older brother" should only be used if it's the friend that's calling your brother that or something because if his peers see him as a brother but also hot??? idk whatever I'm thinking too deeply.

Point being. they both hot. they both do the thing.

So Sitri is quite pissed and pretty much ignores Amy's presence and asks Astaroth why it didn't work cursing Amy to die and it's explained that you have to say it more than once for the curse to work. (cool that Astaroth knows stuff like this). So Amy starts his little mantra of wanting the poor guy dead

Since I know what he sounds like, it's funny to try to read this in his voice in my head.

Sitri ain't never missed with his clapback. I swear he was just born with the ability to roast anyone at any given moment.

(it's funny because when my cat was in heat before I got her fixed she was LOUD asf like that shit would keep me up at night)

And even more so Amy tries to tell him he was gonna sit down anyway without taking orders from him and Sitri clocked him again by saying that those who cum early talk too much and those who don't talk very seldom. Out here calling him a one pump chump.

now how do you know which one he is Sitri hm???? care to share with the class??

Anyways, Satan shows up and sees the table all fucked up and he's just happy.

He really said he here for the chaos.

He is definitely here to start some shit and it makes me laugh because that's his entire focus. He doesn't even hide that he's trying to do it. He even told Amy to break the chair from stomping around and Sitri took it as Satan getting onto him. What's funny to me is that I think Satan literally just wanted him to break furniture so Sitri has something to say about it. I'm crying.

Amy was ready to go ya'll he told Sitri to meet him outside, square up, grab his guns, saddle up, the whole nine yards. Sitri is just like well no the meeting comes first and Satan and was like "ugh fine" and decided to pay attention to important stuff lol.

Amy apparently lost this round to Sitri because Satan forgot all about the fight and focused on the meeting instead.

Also from that screencap above I'm definitely not trippin' Amy is taller than Sitri and Satan like WHAT is his height hello?

SO it's five years later and the meeting happens again, and Amy kept that energy because once Sitri came through that door?

it was on sight. lmaoooooo

Also wtf Amy why is your bosoms so big and taking up the screen. Maybe that's why you're mad because Sitri's got the badonk booty and you don't because it's all in your chesssttt.

anyways

There's more banter between these two and the other nobles are just standing by watching as per usual until Ppyong genuinely wants to know why they hate each other so much if they were in the same class when enlisted.

It also sounds like Sitri knew Satan before that and decided to become his right hand devil at the same time. Hm.

So in other words "if they keep at each others throats like that they actually like each other they just don't know how to show it"

Satan even does the "hehe now kisssssss" move

Now this little CG is adorable. Astaroth pulled out his 3D glasses, Paimon has his camera ready...I love them so much this is hilarious.

Awh grumpy Paimon is grumpy. He wanted the picture because it was gonna get a million views lmao

And Leraye is right on the money, because how did Amy and Sitri know to turn their heads at that exact moment?

clocked 'em

Satan is thirsty now because he's blissfully unware that he almost made them kiss. Sitri wants to brew tea, but Amy is like "nah we ain't got time for that I'll go on a drink run <3"

Then...

they literally became my favorite gif

So while they have their stare down, Leraye saves the day by saying it's too hot to have Sitri slave over a hot stove making tea so having Amy go on a drink run is much faster.

So he orders iced tea (iirc), Paimon wants orange juice, Astaroth???

sir wth does this even mean? like? 😭😭

Anyways while Sitri was kinda ticked off that Amy went to go fetch the drinks instead of him, he didn't really fight it that it would be faster. Amy also appreciated that everyone had his back on this decision.

Which btw he got those drinks quick asf, like where did he even find all of this?

purified water from the golden river of tartaros??? Where do they sell that? cold ade sounds like gatorade/kool-aid or something and juice yeah you can get that anywhere and cold coffee for belial and Astaroth

oh no what about my bby Zagan :(((( no drink for him?

but he even got Sitri a drink....except...

He done got this man a bottle of fucking sesame oil dressing...two fucking liters of it.

"Don't be frugal" he says.

What kinda petty ass childish shit LMAO I'd literally pour it on his head for bringing that to me. Satan laughed though so I guess that's his kind of humor, and everyone else tried to not laugh either. Sitri ofc was not amused lol but I guess Amy won this round.

So it sounds like tomorrow we will FINALLY know why they hold these meetings and why it's spread out by five years each time.

So far I'm really liking the banter between the two. It's really something. it also makes me want to really write them together b a d l y. Like there's so many things I could give the reason for why they hate each other so much.

But that's day one and two ya'll. Thankfully nothing has me off track so I can follow each day at a time ^^

See ya'll at the next react lovelies <3

[hahaifolded]

Can We Make This Work? (4)

Nanami Kento x POC!Fem Reader x Gojo Satoru (Masterlist) Chapter 4: Trouble in Paradise (Previous) (Next) Summary: Determined to befriend your husband, you tried surprising him. Warnings: Angst

It's been a month since you married Nanami Kento and to say it was blissful would be too kind. The first week or so was nice. After moving into the spare room of his apartment, you tried to get to know your husband, from riding to and from work together to cooking and eating together. You even tried picking up drinking to find more common ground with the man.

However, curses had another idea. By the second week, Yaga increased your workload , forcing you to stay in the field more, drastically cutting your time with Nanami. Which only left you with the morning rides to work which were always quiet since Nanami wasn't much of a morning person. And despite you best efforts, you couldn't fully break Nanami out of his shell.

Your goal wasn't to make the man fall in love with you. You weren't delusional. You knew he didn't want this so actual love was not going to blossom overnight. All you wanted was to be his friend. The world knows that you didn't have any at the moment.

Since being classified, everyone stayed clear of you. It seemed that everyone was either intimidated by you or feared you. Everyone avoided you like the plague, only speaking to you when necessary. You asked Yaga if you had done something, but he shooed you away, almost hesitant to speak on it.

Leaving you to walk on campus, in the city, everywhere alone. You've never felt lonelier. You were all by yourself in a new city with no one to confide in. All you had were curses.

That's why you so badly wanted to befriend Nanami. He was the only person who could possibly understand what you were going through. But it seemed that life had other plans.

That's why today you had a plan. You asked Yaga to leave your lunch open, a request he agreed to out of fear. After completing your morning missions, you asked Ijichi to take you to a bakery in town that you knew was your husband's favorite.

You noticed early on how much Nanami enjoyed food. While trying to get to know him, you had asked him about his favorite places to eat in the city and this bakery was up on his list. Now with his favorite sandwich in hand, you were going to surprise Nanami with lunch.

Your body buzzed in excitement as you walked towards the break room with the bag of goods. Maybe this can be a reoccurring thing. Maybe not everyday, but at least once a week, you giddily thought. Your mouth watered from the smell emitting from the bag. Both your mind and stomach were going to thank you later for this.

As you got closer to the break room, you could hear your husband's voice as well as three other male voices. It seems like they were deep in conversation.

"And then Nanami, he just... wow. Honestly, you really have to teach me how to punch like that," complemented a man. He sounded fairly young and jovial. You heard your husband hum, neither in agreement or disagreement.

"Okay, we get it, Ino! Nanami is super cool. We all should be like him," complained a third voice, one that you easily recognized as the second-year teacher, Kusakabe. You actually tried talking to him the other day, but when he heard you calling his name, he immediately turned around and ran away. It made you chuckle every time you thought about it.

Suddenly a recognizable laugh rang in the air. "This guy... please. That tie offsets any possibility of him being cool." From the laugh alone, you recognized it to be Gojo who you haven't seen since the day of your classification.

With a bag in hand and excitement in your heart, you were just a turn away from entering the break room. However, an interesting question made you pause.

"So Nanami, how's married life going?" asked Kusakabe with food in his mouth. Not going really. I mean we haven't had much time to hang so he's probably going to say--

"Horrible. I honestly don't want to talk about it," your husband admitted. Your chest tightened. You weren't expecting that.

"Really? She seems nice," said Ino in a surprised tone.

"Forget nice! If I was married to that, you would never hear me complain again in my life," shared Kusakabe. "You're just being dramatic. It can't be that--." Before he could finish, something slammed against the table, silencing everyone.

Nanami spat out with utter frustration, "You have absolutely no idea how much this marriage has inconvenienced my life. So don't dare try to say that I should be content just because she isn't a complete monster." You heard him pause to catch his breath.

"I mean marriage isn't easy," feebly added Ino.

"Yeah, but everyone else had a choice," bit back Nanami.

"What's so bad then?" asked Kusakabe.

"Where do I even start. She's always begging for attention. Is constantly asking questions. I can't even get a moment to myself without her popping up, begging to hang out." A deep breath followed. He started up again, slightly calmer. "You know, I used to find great comfort in my home, but now I feel suffocated in it as I know she will be there. I even had to ask Yaga to assign her on more missions so I can have some peace back home."

Hearing enough, you left and made your way back to your office.

-- -- --

I know things weren't ideal, but I didn't think they were that bad, you thought as you cradled your head in your hands. You sat in your office in complete silence to think about what you just heard.

Sure, neither of us wanted this. I mean we're both victims here, right? We could have made it work, no? The sandwiches were getting cold as they sat on your desk.

"Fuck!"

Of course things were never going to work out between you two. You were never going to be his friend and even less his lover. These things would never happen, because that meant that Nanami Kento had to like you, the insufferable foreign sorcerer that forced a man into a marriage that didn't benefit him.

He wasn't the problem, you were. While he opened his home to you, you only brought discomfort and misery to it. This was never going to work. No matter what you did. You will always be the woman that robbed him of his freedom.

"Fuck."

You had to make it up to him. You had to made this work for him. You had to give him back his freedom.

-- -- --

"Hey Gojo, what's with the face? Sense a curse or something?" asked Ino.

"No, it's... it's nothing."

Word Count: 1130

Previous - Masterlist - Next

Author's Notes: Guys, I just realized that I've been spelling Ijichi's name wrong this whole time. I went back and fixed it in the other chapters so if you saw it.... shhhh no you didn't.

Also this is my first time writing angst. When I first thought of this scene, it made my heart hurt, but when I wrote it here, it didn't. And to me good angst is when your chest gets all warm and low key hurts. So I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts on it. Obviously I don't think this is like revolutionary or the best angst out there, but I just want to know if this is like decent angst.

Next chapter will all be in Nanami's POV so stay tune!

[katerinaaqu]

It's you; always has been you! (A Neoptolemous songfic)

A song-fic I came up with on the spot today after talking with @smokey07 and the band Skillet! ^_^ Consider it a veeeeeery late birthday gift! As late as poor Neoptolemous was for the funeral of his father. TW: Violence and alcohol involved

He was staggering softly at his feet as the ground and the sand were too soft to support him. In one way he almost seemed uncomfortable not to be dressed in his armor and the fact that he had probably chugged the sweet wine of victory down faster than he should be didn’t really help his situation. Pyrrhus, or as he was known by everyone now, Neoptolemous totally seemed out of his waters dressed in soft chiton and chlamys instead of his father’s lustrous armor; the one blackened by the holy flame he dedicated to Troy. The celebrations to appease the gods seemed to be going well but in his mind all seemed pointless. The majority of the kings and soldiers had no idea on what had happened behind closed doors and behind conspiracies. Conspiracies were not his thing. He hated them. It was the fire of battle and blood that gave him life; inside Troy he had felt alive like he never felt before. His heart was pounding in his chest; hammering against his bones. It was the thrill of taking a life; feeling one’s blood running upon his spear that gave him life. He was training for it all his life and when he got it, it was like adrenaline had gave him life he never felt before; the smell of metal smelt sweeter than anything he had ever smelt before. It was the mixture between bronze and tin and tar along with the metallic scent of blood that made him feel alive. Perhaps that was the reason he was mostly drinking than talking in the party; parties were just not his thing; dull, meaningless ways of concealing the bloodlust everyone had felt, he was sure. Hypocrites! They pretended they yearned for peace and yet they were ready to eat each other’s flesh upon sharing the spoils! And, by the thunder of Zeus, Neoptolemous despised and loathed every single one of them for it! Every time his mentors or his elder peers were scolding him for making a comment about the war, he felt this contempt inside him to the point he wanted to scream to the heavens.

However there was one thing that Neoptolemous despised them more for; Calchas had said he had spoken to the spirit of his father, when he had demanded the concubine to his bed in the Underworld. Every single one of those old fools, the talkative old men, had got to meet his father, bond with him, talk to him… He, on the other hand had only heard of him from stories of his mother, stories of the others at the army and then his father’s ghost had visited them making one last request…

But he hadn’t spoken to him…

Neoptolemous absolutely despised them all for it. He was angry, furious even! Why! That was all he could think of; why them and not me! Why that couldn’t have been me? There was a primitive fire burning inside him; an insatiable thirst had taken him over and he somehow knew that fighting was not the option so he chose to drink that night, hopefully to erase this burning from his chest. He wasn’t used to strong drinks before and he never felt the need to indulge to it. However that night he just couldn’t take it. All the people he despised around him were talking and talking, speaking on their future plans and how their conflict had divided them; some of them already gone home and others stayed here to offer sacrifice some others didn’t even bother. The talk was giving him headache. These men he despised had met his father, they even talked about him once or twice before (even if they avoided the subject now). It was as if he weren’t even there, as if the throne he was sitting on was not for him but for someone else; wine was giving him a reason to pretend he was listening and hating every second of it. So when he couldn’t take it anymore and the sweet wine was not enough to erase the fire that was scorching him inside, he just stood up, not even bothering to mumble an apology or an excuse and he had moved slowly outside of that ceremonial or whatever the hell that was, dinner and found isolation to the previous battlefield. It was as if the ghosts of the dead were better company than all those who claimed to be alive. His unstable feet brought him to the ceremonial monument they had set for his father; a sema mentioning his name was set to the area of his burial. Although he was aware that the urn would be taken with them, back home. The monument seemed small and petty before him and yet it also seemed tall and dark and unfriendly. It was the first time he saw his father in more than 10 years when he arrived at Troy; barely had any recollection of his face and, by gods, he couldn’t even see his corpse! This monument was what greeted him upon arrival to Troy. He mopped some sweat off his forehead (when had he started sweating? The night wasn’t particularly hot. Maybe it was the wine that set his skin aflame) and looked up.

“Well?” he asked to the cold stone, “What do you think? Are you satisfied?”

There was no response. Of course stones wouldn’t talk back and yet Pyrrhus didn’t seem ready to accept that.

“I did what you ask… I gave you your whore as you asked of me. Are you happy now, father? Are you proud?”

The stone did not respond once more. Neoptolemous felt every inch of his young body trembling with primary rage; the type of rage that you would need an army to slay till it subsided. His turquoise eyes seemed to be sparkling like cold flames in the dark.

“So…you choose to appear to everyone else…except from me? Is this how you wanna play it, dad? Is it?”

The notion suddenly seemed hilarious! The idea behind it was such a tragicomedy that he burst out in a loud laughter. The laughter was cold, uncontrollable and bitter. His stomach hurt, his chest was palpitating for breath and yet Neoptolemous, the son of Achilles couldn’t stop laughing. He nearly fell down from his unstable feet; held up by a mixture of determination and luck.

“So after everything I’ve done for you…after everything I did to please you, to live to your name…THIS is what you give me? You do not even grace me with your presence!? You just entered my life and then gone and you have nothing else to say!?”

He swayed a bit in his place trying to find his balance and then looked at the stone anew. He refused to shed tears. He hadn’t shed any ever since he was a toddler! He wouldn’t start now.

“After everything I’ve done…” he repeated, “I’ll never be good enough will I? You will never be proud of me! I will never live up to your name! Tell me, dammit! Tell me why you showed your face to everyone but me?! WHY ARE YOU SILENT!?”

The last was a cry to the heavens, or maybe towards the Underworld. He no longer knew and in all seriousness he didn’t really care.

“I’ll surpass you!” he finally said, “Do you hear me! I will become greater than you ever dreamt to be! You can’t shadow my life like this! You cannot overshadow me!”

He had no idea what made him spew all that and booze made him unthinkable as to why he would say things he never admitted not even to himself. All his life he worshipped his father; he was raised to be his heir and his rightful descendant; his legacy. Right now, though, after the war and the conquest, after the atrocities he performed to his name and after this night he was feeling empty inside. What was his purpose now? Ever since Odysseus came to pick him up from Skyros he knew he would have to fight and finish his father’s war. What was left of him now? How would he proceed?

“It was never me, wasn’t it…?” he finally whispered, “It’s you…it always has been you!”

*

He didn’t return to the feast, that much he knew. He couldn’t go through another round of the old men talking and feeling their gazes judging him when he was downing one goblet after the other so he wouldn’t lose control. The bottling emotions were too much to contain. He wouldn’t wish for yet another headache like that. So he took the decision to stagger back to his tent. Perhaps, he thought, get some privacy and maybe some sleep. As he entered the familiar environment of his tent (no…his father’s tent) he came to face the several slaves and servants (his father’s slaves and servants) roaming about. He also saw old Phoenix in. Apparently the old man retired early. As he entered the eyes turned to look at him. Among them there was Andromache; his prize; the only thing that truly belonged to him in that tent! His pale red locks were messed up from wind and his own carelessness; his chiton was stained with some wine (he hadn’t noticed some had dripped there) and his eyes were flaming with unshed tears and rage. His prize eyed him and glared; a queen till the end even if tied with chains of slavery.

“What are you looking at, huh?” he challenged her stumbling in his tent and removing the chlamys from his shoulder

He let it fall on the floor. He didn’t care where it would end up. He slowly staggered to the small table and poured another goblet for himself as if by instinct. He had no idea what he was doing; he just felt the same irritation by sensing the eyes stuck on him; judging him! He took a gulp of wine trying to ignore it (“You shall never be your father”, their eyes felt to be saying).

“Son…” Phoenix began, “What’s this…? What’s the matter?”

Neoptolemous laughed again. It was a mocking, humorless laughter, indeed.

“What’s the problem, old man? Don’t I have your permission to retire to my bed?”

“Are you drunk?” the old man asked worriedly

“Not as drunk as I would want to be, I assure you!” Neoptolemous retorted finishing his drink

Once again he had no idea why he even said that. He didn’t drink away that night in order to get himself inebriated. Why was he admitting things he never intended?

“Control yourself, boy” Phoenix said in his sweet voice, “This is unacceptable behavior!”

“Would you dare to talk to my father like this, old man?” Neoptolemous demanded draining yet another cup, “I think not! I demand from you to act the same with me! I have proven myself to be his equal! Treat me such! And I shall do as I please! You have no right to count the cups of wine I drink. Save me the lecture!”

“Son…please…”

“I am NOT your son, old man!” Neoptolemous snapped at him, “I am Achilleides! Not your son! Stop calling me that!”

“Pyrrhus…please…” old Phoenix tried again

“Don’t you DARE use that name either!” the son of Achilles yelled, pointing his finger at him, “That name was given to me by my mother and father and NEITHER of them is here! I am Neoptolemous now! You shall NOT speak the name that is not here now!”

“My boy, please…please come back to your senses… This war has destroyed you, cursed the names of those who started it! What fate was to strike me, to see my dearest boy end up like this?”

He was met with yet another wave of uncontrollable laughter.

“That boy you THOUGHT you knew is DEAD!” the young man yelled, “You hear me! Dead! Gone! Forget he even existed in your mind! I have done so much in this war! So much for this glory you will never imagine!”

“This can’t be, Pyrrhus! Please!”

Neoptolemous almost pounced at him; like a wounded lion he huffed and puffed, waving his fist over the man’s face; his breath reeking of wine.

“Do you see this…?” he whispered in wild triumph, “Do you know whose blood is this?”

The old man seemed surprised. What? He couldn’t see the blood? He could see it as clear as day. Wasn’t there blood in his right hand; the hand that wielded and used the sacrificial knife? He turned to look at Andromache grinning triumphantly; self-complacently at her.

“It was someone you knew, by the way, madam! The same well as you knew your father-in-law! You see…my father wanted a concubine can you imagine?!”

He laughed mockingly, almost like a madman at the notion. He didn’t care what he was saying. He was too drunk to care.

“That was how far his legendary love for his dear comrade went! He wasn’t in the grave but a little and he already felt cold and needed company! Isn’t it wonderful?!”

He drained his last cup before throwing it to the other end of the room.

“So I provided it for him! Like a good son!”

“Monster…” Andromache whispered, tears almost burning her eyes

“I am sure you heard too…your dear mother-in-law losing her marbles! I heard she plucked a man’s eyes out before! Who is the bigger monster I wonder!”

“Curse you!” Andromache cried out, “You and your filthy kin!”

“Oh yes, you remember me, alright!”

He rushed at her, without even knowing what he was doing; red of wine and anger clouding his mind. He grabbed her chin. She tried to bite his hand but he held her closer, preventing her from doing so.

“You remember me, when I came to your husband’s tomb and took that crying brat away from you, right? You remember that much!”

She tried to pull back. He didn’t let her. He was stronger than her.

“Let me tell you one more little secret to your information…” he leaned to her ear before whispering, “I was the one who killed your little brat!”

Phoenix swore he heard the Erinyes coming down from heavens to deliver justice; this is how the wail Andromache made that made his ears suffer. The queen had her eyes set aflame as she screamed in lament.

“MURDERER! MONSTER! MONSTER!”

“Wail all you want!” Neoptolemous cried out in return, “You shall come with me, when I begin my true destiny! You will give me sons to continue my legacy, isn’t that what my father would do? Is it, old man?”

Phoenix didn’t know how to deal with this; the boy he had held as a toddler upon his knees who was excited to learn life was gone; in his place there was a madman, someone who was lost in anger and drink. He was too stunned to speak anymore; war had taken everything he had left inside him to fight for.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?”

The familiar, strong voice of Odysseus made him thank heavens for the first time that week. The son of Laërtes, barged in the tent, with the son of Tydeus right behind him; obviously they were both alarmed by the cries they heard in the tent; possibly on their way to sleep or to walk about the camp to inspect.

“Have you lost your damned mind?!” Odysseus demanded, “Let her go!”

His strong arm grasped Neoptolemous and pushed him back. The youth was too distracted, too inebriated to resist and he ended up staggering backwards, nearly losing his balance if it weren’t for the table behind him to support himself (throwing down some things that resided on it that fell down with tremendous sound). The son of Achilles breathed heavily in rage upon the interruption.

“Stay out of this, old man!” he growled like a lion at the wolf that came to take a piece of his hunted meal, “This is none of your concern! She is my slave!”

“She is also a Queen!” Odysseus demanded, eyes cold like obsidian glass, “I would suggest you to pull yourself together and remember that!”

“SHE IS MINE!” Neoptolemous screamed on top of his lungs, “THE ONE THING I EARNED MYSELF! YOU HAVE NO SAY IN THIS!”

“Someone cannot handle their wine well!” Odysseus commented strangely calm, “I suggest you to stand by. You had enough to drink for one night! You are a king now! Act accordingly!”

“WHY YOU-!”

Diomedes rushed to grab Neoptolemous from the back, before he jumped upon his friend in his blind fury. The stronger and taller male, despite the fact that young Neoptolemous was obviously weaker in his inebriation, he still had to struggle a bit to hold him, for Neoptolemous was struggling as if to get away from Charon himself.

“Enough!” he said in his deep voice, “Easy!”

“LET ME GO! DAMN YOU!”

“Pull yourself together, boy!” Odysseus demanded again in his infuriating calmness, “You can boast your strength in battle all you want but now you seem like another drunk! Haven’t your tutors told you how strong the centaurs were in battle? And yet in the arms of alcohol, their actions embarrassed both themselves and their hosts! I would advise you not to fall to that path!”

“SCREW YOU OLD MAN!”

“Phoenix” Odysseus ignored him, “What is going on?”

“He…” the elder man gulped, “I am not sure…”

“Did you come to admire your work!?” crying Andromache interrupted, “Curse you, schemer! Come and muzzle your murderous dog now!”

“What did he say to you?” Odysseus demanded, suddenly his eyes becoming even colder; his face pale.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know! Liar! Heartless monster! You allowed him to take me! The man who killed my son!”

“Is that what he told you?”

His eyes scanned the place; the furious young king struggling in the arms of Diomedes who was trying in vain to calm him down, the old man Phoenix pale as a sheet and finally crying, furious Andromache.

“Well the kid is drunk! He doesn’t know what he’s saying! I was the one who killed your son!” the Man of Many Wiles lied, “I had promised to the council I would and I did! I threw him off the walls and I would do it again! As many times as I had to!”

“BASTARD!” Neoptolemous roared, “YOU SHALL NOT TAKE MY GLORY!”

“Stay put, you foolish child!” Odysseus interrupted, “You are drunk and furious. Calm yourself first! This isn’t you!”

He turned to the former Queen looking at her sincerely.

“This child lost his father too early! He tries to impress him in the underworld! It is not what happened! He is just drunk. Tomorrow he will come back to his senses”

And the king of Ithaca was met again with the flaming eyes of the former Trojan Queen.

“I don’t care for your reasoning or his! Murderer! Get out of my sight! Get out! GET OUT!”

“Gladly…” Odysseus mumbled, “Diomedes, are you coming?”

“In a minute…”

Odysseus nodded. Neoptolemous was almost limb in Diomedes’s arms for a little. He knew his presence would only agitate spirits further so he decided to walk away, leaving the tent. He didn’t wish to remain much, close to either Neoptolemous or Andromache. He exited the tent and only then the young king found his fighting spirit anew.

“COME BACK HERE, COWARD! LIAR! YOU SHALL NOT TAKE OVER MY GLORY! MY VICTORY!”

“Stop it, now!” Diomedes growled again before whispering to his ear, “Don’t you see? He just took the blame from you! You don’t want another stain in your name! Trust me, my friend, you don’t! Let him do it!”

As if a dam collapsed, Neoptolemous broke down; it was a scary mixture of laughter and tears; yes, this time Neoptolemous cried for real as he hadn’t cried for years! It was a furious, desperate cry of all the accumulated and bottled up emotions he had gathered up over the years and the last weeks of unstoppable battle; of slaughter. He was crying and struggling against Diomedes’s iron grip. The king of Argos looked at Andromache; she was staring in stupefaction.

“See…?” he whispered, “He is just a child…no older than what you have been when you married, probably… This war…broke many people…”

Words weren’t his strong point, he knew. That was Odysseus’s field and yet he felt this profound grief in his own heart and too many words seemed unneded. Somehow he could see Andromache looking with a mix of surprise, shock and perhaps pity. Neoptolemous doubled over and threw up on the tent’s floor, coughing soundly.

“GET HER OUT OF HERE!” Diomedes ordered Phoenix, “NOW!”

Phoenix didn’t even need to be told as he was already escorting Andromache out of the chamber, leaving the tent empty but the two men. Neoptolemous seemed to be struggling to stabilize his breathing as his system was rejecting the alcohol he was not used to.

“Easy…it’s okay…it’s okay…”

“Don’t you dare pity me!” Neoptolemous cried, “I don’t need your pity! I don’t need anyone!”

“Kid…I know how you feel…trust me!”

“How can you know?! Don’t pretend you know me! Stop acting smart!”

“I understand, kid…” Diomedes insisted, “I know this pain…I lost my father too! I was young, younger than you when I lost him but you and I lived the same long without him… I was forced to fight his war… I lived in war so far. Kid, don’t make the same mistake…”

“What should I do?” Neoptolemous cried again, “What’s left of me to do?”

For the first time his true age was shown; he was a child, younger than what he was and had such a huge name on his shoulders. He was the son of a demigod and he had already fought a bloody war…he had already been corrupted in it.

“You will find your way…you shall make your own legacy. I know you are angry but this is just not the way. Don’t live in his shadow forever!”

Neoptolemous moaned again and threw up some more trying to find his balance. Diomedes supported him upright, helping him wipe his mouth with a cloth.

“I…” Neoptolemous panted, “I…I shall be better than him! I shall surpass him!”

He was repeating the same tune, stubbornly. No, it was impossible for him to let go of the life purpose he had gone by since infantry. He couldn’t let go of the image of Achilles.

“After the war…I shall make my course! Wait and see, father! I will leave behind a legacy much bigger than what you ever imagined!”

He struggled to his feet only to be assisted to sit down a chair by Diomedes.

“The old man Nestor can have the urn!” the son of Achilles added, “Let him bury it to whatever place he wants along with his son or any other! I have no use for it! I shall not melt away like he did! I shall surpass him!”

Diomedes sighed deeply. Yes, he knew the symptoms. The child was in too deep, too profoundly deep to change now. And war had made it worse. Yes, he was no longer Pyrrhus.

He was Neoptolemous, the New Warrior, the New Conqueror

And it was never him…

It was always about his father…

He was not himself…

He was the Son of Achilles…

**

So forgive me if this seems messy for it was a random inspiration but then again maybe it is supposed to be messy after all. Neoptolemous is lost; his mind is a mess becaue he realizes that the war was never about him; that he lives under the shadow of his father!

Of course song-fc inspired by the amazing song by Skillet "It's not Me It's you"

I know that my friend said that Skillet is perhaps "too soft for the profound madness and sadness in Neoptolemous" but somehow I thought this is the back of his brain speaking, which comes up with wine.

The mentioned of the blackened armor is a dedication to the amazing comic page @smokey07 created here

So yeah dunno I thought that Neoptolemous with his anger issues he would be an out-of-control angry drunk so I made this! So random drama so forgive me my friend if it is messy! Hope you like it! I also randomly added Diomedes in a few minutes ago thinking on your headcanon that Neoptolemous follows Diomedes around, forming mutual trust between them

Ironically after war both kings have similar paths for different reasons; Diomedes is self-exiled from Argos and is off to Italy to found several cities while Neoptolemous begins the kingdom of Epirus in North Greece.

Also Odysseus, officially declaring he killed Astyanax a little thing my devious brain came up with to show why there is "confusion" between the sources as to who killed Astyanax! Hehehehe I know I am ranodmly evil here! (I am also winking to my fanfiction "Guilt")

Anyways I am eager to hear your opinions guys! ^_^

[no-m4gic]

Hiya friend i saw u and knew I had to request heh

So I was thinking byakuya/nagito/shuichi characters w a reader who cries when frustrated/yelled at/someone angry at them :}

Lots of love also don't forget to eat and drink

mmm i'm here to pleasure the simps i'm here to pleasure the simps i'm here to pleasure the simps.

lmk if you ever want yandere byakuya, plasma /j

i had fun writing this lel, thanks for requesting! i relate to this a lot lmao

~ mod sitaya

BYAKUYA, NAGITO & SHUICHI W/ A GN FRAGILE S/O

BYAKUYA TOGAMI

"uugh. stop crying already, get up, the floor's dirty."

despite byakuya not being a patient guy, he isn't a loud one either. however that doesn't mean he won't get mad and snap at you.

he isn't a heartless monster though, if you'd just been scolded by perhaps kirigiri or ishimaru, he'd offer you his handkerchief, but i doubt he'll accept it back.

"i don't want anything that is stained with plebian tears."

isn't really the type who'd hug or like hugs, but if you do initiate a hug, he'll just awkwardly and silently hug back.

god forbid you stain his rich people clothes though.

don't worry about him being mad at you, you're one of the only people who doesn't piss him off to the core, so it's rare for him to be mad or upset with you, most of the time it's just him being annoyed and making snarky remarks.

if it was somebody who had made you mad, frustrated or upset, expect a handwritten apology letter from them.

when you ask togami about it, he'd act all innocent and clueless.

"i don't know what you're talking about s/o, i'd never do something like that for such a plebian."

NAGITO KOMAEDA

"oh atua- s/o- what happened? was it me? i'm sorry... i'll leave if you want..."

at first he'd think he was the problem and feel like absolute shit.

eventually tho, he'll find out that it isn't him, which was good on his part.

he'd ask you what happened and who made you upset.

after you're done rambling, you'll find yourself in his arms, him probably squeezing you tighter than you were squeezing him.

my guy doesn't want to lose you.

while hugging you and rubbing your back, he assumes that this happened because of his luck. he'd also be secretly plotting something against whoever yelled at you. it would definitely be something way less sinister than whatever was happening in his head, something like him acting all creepy around them.

if you're still upset, he'd bring you on a shopping spree, since you know like... he won the lottery.

if you run into someone like izuru or byakuya, you two would definitely have fun annoying them.

SHUICHI SAIHARA

"oh no- s/o, i'm sorry that happened... but what should i do? should i start crying too?"

if it'd make you feel better, shuichi would offer to cry with you and hold you.

he'd quickly run off to fetch you a glass of water

after that he'd listen to whatever you had to say, all the while enjoying your soothing voice.

if you like sulking in the dark, he'll lend you his emo hat and walk you back to your room, telling people who got in the way and were making the situation worse to fuck off.

if it's raining and you guys are outside, he'll walk in the rain and lend you his umbrella.

you'd probably have to care for him after he gets a bad fever

after dealing with you, the next person he'll have to deal with would be your attacker.

he wouldn't attack them komaeda or blackmail them like togami, he'd just walk up to them and be like "hey, could you be more careful around s/o next time? their ego is really weak. thanks."

or he'd get kaede to tell them if he decides to stay with you.

[karlachismylife]

Masochistic Kid With a Split Lip

CW: gn!sergeant!reader, descriptions of injuries and violence, brief descriptions of hospitals and medication, hurt/comfort.

(Title from Ren's song "Suic*de" , although I'm not sure the asterisk is by author's design. There is nothing about this theme in the fic itself!! Just a really good song with a fitting lyric.)

Also I wrote the fic first, then saw this art and it's kinda fitting. Beware, depiction of injuriess!! Go support the artist, it's beautiful work.

Usually you didn't have a single complaint about staying on a sniper position, providing cover and watching the main action unfold through a well-tuned scope or a pair of binoculars. Keeping your head clear, hands steady and ready to shoot whenever an order came in or the situation demanded.

However, this meant a lot of things escaped your attention, only coming through the comms as a radio play - and as any radio play, it relied heavily on your own imagination painting the picture, often much more saturated and vivid than reality turned out to be whenever you were re-told the events by your fellow teammates.

Close combat and buildings infiltration stayed outside your sight. And you were content with not witnessing someone's heroics firsthand - up until today.

Today you cursed the order that held you in your place.

Now, looking at Soap's face, beaten to a pulp, blood literally gushing down like a full-water river from his split eyebrow and nose that got almost evened out into a flat surface - that must've been that horrifying wet crack you heard before his microphone got torn off and trampled - you could put every hit, groan and thud to a visual aftermath. Limping and nursing a hand with a wrist that should have never been able to take that angle, he hung off Ghost's shoulder like a flabby, ratted scrap of cloth, but even as his inhumanely bloodshot eye struggled to focus or simply stay open, he still looked at you and tried to grin, teeth painted red behind painfully stretching split lips.

You held his one good hand that didn't get shattered into pieces after being repeatedly stomped on all the way back to the base.

"Get some sleep. You look exhausted," told you your Captain, his big supportive hand squeezing your stiff shoulder. You tried to voice a protest, sitting upright in the uncomfortable chair across from the infirmary bed, where Soap was already out like a light on the generous painkillers cocktail, but Price shoot you a warning, stern glare and furrowed his brows. "That's an order, Sergeant. Soap's gonna sleep for hours straight, and he'll need ya fresh and awake by the time he comes back, not a barely coherent sleep-deprived mess. Take a shower. Grab a bite to eat. Drink a cuppa. Have some sleep."

"Go. I'll stay in case he wakes early, I'll shoot you a message." You nearly snapped your neck as you turned to the source of the gruff voice - how long had Ghost been standing there, arms crossed, hunched back supporting the bleak medical green wall, eyes with some black still clinging around even after a shower glued to what could barely be recognized as Johnny's face.

Leaving this little room reeking of hospital seemed terrifying, but arguing with both your superior officers was a losing game - especially when they were right.

You still could barely sleep, waking up twice to the phantom feeling of blood from a broken nose filling your sinuses and throat, thick, viscous irony mass preventing you from breathing. Your sheets sticked to the wet patch of cold sweat between your shoulderblades, heart racing as you tried to push away the invasive thought of Johnny silently choking on his own blood in a closed off medical wing.

Morning found you with a warm thermos of sweet black tea - liquid energy - clutched in hands hanging between your knees on the same chair you were banished from mere hours ago. Ghost left an hour later after you sat down and showed no intention to move, probably satisfied with the bare minimum of rest you took and unwilling to argue with you when your eyes had that crazed glint of desperation deep inside pulsing pupils.

The first sound Soap produced sent a shockwave down your spine, jolting your whole body and immediately forcing you close to his bedside with the power of a gravity field of the sun that Johnny was.

"Well, good morning to you too," you smiled at him weakly, gripping the healthy hand he outstretched towards you and bringing it to your lips. "You're still handsome, you know?"

"LT said Ah looked lik' shite yesterday, " his own smile was timid, small, constricted by the pain of fresh wounds - his pouty lips were a swollen mess with dried blood stuck in the deep cut in the middle. "Dinnae ken whom tae believe oot of ye two."

Even the softest chuckle, successfully elicited from you, made Johnny's eyes sparkle brighter - beaten or not, he still charged off other people's energy, and now you were grateful to your Captain and Lieutenant for the fact that you weren't an exhusted knot of naked wires ready to shortcircuit and burst into tears due to plain emotional exhaustion.

"So you'll take Simon's word over mine, huh?" An unsaid I'm glad you're alive and laughing fell onto the stale sheet, barely avoiding Johnny's fucked up hand, put together like a puzzle in the course of several hours yesterday. "I want to kiss you, you know."

"I wanntae kiss ye too, bonnie," he rasped, licking his dry, bruised lips and glancing at yours. "Doc didnae say we cannae, ye ken? Gonnae kiss me a'right and Ah'll be good as new, aye?"

"Are you sure I'm not gonna hurt you, sunshine?" Oh how tempting he was, even lying with a broken nose and stitches in random patches of skin - still victorious. Ye shoulda seen th' other guy, bonnie - he told you in his dazed state yesterday. Ghost chuckled darkly and muttered there wasn't anything left to see under his nose.

"Ah'm sure. C'mere, Ah missed ye." Johnny's good hand gripped you almost desperately, barely a shiver of pain in fingers weakened by huge doses of whatever they pumped into him to keep his shocked body stable. He tugged on your wrist insistently, and you gave in, leaning down carefully and timidly touching his lips with yours.

Of course it wouldn't do, it was Johnny you kissed.

He pressed his mouth into yours greedily, breath stuttering with a poorly muffled grunt - startled, you tried to pull away and check on him, stop causing him pain and soothe the wounds you disturbed, but he already cupped the back of your head, digging his fingers into your scalp harshly, and showed no intent of stopping.

"Mmph, Johnny, you're- hurt... mmh!"

No chance. Wincing and grunting like an old man with a broken back, Soap kept kissing you, giggling into your worried mouth like a little troublemaker.

You decided, you were going to tell Ghost.

[storiesforallfandoms]

sleepy head ~ harry styles

word count: 1467

request?: yes!

“Hey! I request for the first time so I don't really know how much descriptive I have to be so yeah sorry if something's wrong,could I maybe request a Harry styles X reader where the reader has a bad habit of sleeping almost the whole day and when Harry wakes her up late in the afternoon she realizes that she missed yet another day with him and he comforts her beacuse she feels sad and guilty?(I hope this is understandable bc it's kind a problem of mine) thank you ♥️”

description: in which she struggles with staying awake and it makes her feel bad because she misses so much time with her boyfriend

pairing: harry styles x female!reader

warnings: rpf, more like a blurb than an imagine but...y’know

masterlist (one, two, three)

You had no idea what it was that made you so sleepy all the time. You had gone to the doctor and had your thyroid levels and your iron checked, both of which came back fine. You had taken melatonin to try and sleep through an entire night. You even tried drinking coffee and energy drinks to get you through the day. So far, nothing really worked. You were still perpetually tired.

If you had work or any plans that meant you had to leave the house, you were usually awake enough to partake. But the minute you were home, your bed would be beckoning for you, and it was nearly impossible for you to resist.

It was something you already had a lot of issues with, and you were trying to work on it, but it especially became a problem when you started dating Harry.

Harry would never say it bothered him. He was adamant whenever it was brought up that he wasn’t bothered by how often you slept. You, however, were very bothered and felt incredibly bad whenever you slept in late, or when slept your entire day away. You had such little time with him since he was always so busy, and you didn’t want to lose that time by sleeping all day.

On one of the last days before Harry had to leave for tour, the two of you had planned to spend the whole day together. You set an alarm for early that morning so you could get up and fight off the sleep you were sure would try and convince you to stay in bed.

The second the alarm went off, you got out of bed and got ready. You got dressed, made a cup of coffee, washed your face with cold water to wake yourself up more, and made breakfast. You texted Harry to say good morning and to ask when he wanted to start your day together. You were almost finished eating when you got his response: “good morning, love. i’m not long awake, so it’ll probably be an hour or two before i’m ready if that’s okay.”

“of course! see you then ❤️”

Now you just had to stay awake for maybe two hours.

You washed the dishes, even dried them and put them away. You finished your first cup of coffee and put on the kettle for another. While the water was boiling, you went to brush your teeth and splashed your face with cold water again. You paced the kitchen as you waited for your coffee to cool down enough to drink. You couldn’t let yourself sit down. You knew the moment you did, you would risk being hit my fatigue and falling asleep.

You looked at the time on your clock and realized only 30 minutes had passed since Harry had texted you. He hadn’t sent another message yet to say he was ready. You groaned as you pocketed your phone again.

“I’ve had two cups of coffee,” you said to yourself. “That should be good enough to keep me awake.”

So, you moved to the living room and sat down on the couch. You sat as straight as possible, not even allowing yourself to lean on the arm rest or to slouch. You opened TikTok on your phone and started the mindless scrolling. You figured that would be the best way to pass the time. It was easy to fall down a TikTok rabbit hole and lose an hour or more.

Eventually, your back started to hurt from the unnatural way you were sitting. You allowed yourself to lean against the arm rest. But then the leaning turned into laying down. You were on your side with your phone in your hand, TikTok still open. Your eyes were growing heavy, but you fought against them. It wouldn’t be much longer till Harry was ready. You had to stay awake.

But it was a losing battle, and soon enough, your eyes were closed and you were sound asleep.

~~~~~~

You jumped awake at the feeling of someone’s hand touching your arm. You quickly sat up, the post sleep confusion still clinging to you.

“Hey, it’s okay It’s just me.”

You blinked your blurry eyes a few times until you focused on the familiar face of your boyfriend.

You smiled, sheepishly. “Hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s alright. It took me a little longer to get ready than I expected.”

You stretched your arms over your head. “What time is it?”

���Um...almost 4?”

“What?!”

Your phone was on the floor, probably having fallen when you fell asleep. You picked it up to check the time to see he was right, it was almost 4pm. You also saw you had a number of texts and missed calls from Harry.

“I texted you a few times to let you know I was ready whenever you were,” he was explaining. “When you didn’t answer, I called a few times. I figured you were asleep, so I waited a while before coming over, to let you sleep.”

“How long was a while?” you asked.

When Harry didn’t respond, it was all the answer you needed.

Tears started to well up in your eyes as you buried your head in your hands. You couldn’t believe you let it happen again. You tried so hard not to fall asleep so you could spend Harry’s last day with him, and yet you still fell victim to your fatigue.

Harry gently took your hands and lowered them from your face. You refused to look up at him, keeping your eyes on the floor instead.

“Love, I’m not upset that you fell asleep,” he assured you.

“I’m upset,” you said. “I tried everything to stay awake. I knew that if I laid down I would end up falling asleep, and I still did it. I wasted our whole day.”

“Hey.” Harry cupped your face so you’d look at him. You weren’t able to hold back your tears anymore, so they were just running down your cheeks as you looked at him. “You can’t help that this happened.”

“I could’ve,” you said. “If I hadn’t let myself lay down I would’ve stayed awake. I should’ve found more chores to do around the place before you came, or something to keep me busy. But I shouldn’t have to do that! If there wasn’t something wrong with me, I’d be able to stay awake like a normal person.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

You gave him a look. “Yes there is, Harry. You’re always so nice when this happens, but I really wish you wouldn’t be. I wish you’d just tell me how you really feel about it, because I know it annoys you.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “When have I ever made it seem like I was annoyed?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He was right, you technically had no evidence to support your claim that he was annoyed with you. He had been nothing but kind and patient every time you had missed plans or fallen asleep while you were both together.

“You can’t help that you’re tired so much,” he continued. “You told me about it when we went out on our first date, it’s not like it’s something that is new and came out of nowhere. And you’ve tried to deal with it, but it’s just how you are. I’m not going to be mad at you for the way you are.”

You sniffled as new tears started to form in your eyes. “But...today was our last day together before you leave, and I slept through it.”

“Last I checked, it’s only 4pm. There’s still plenty of time to do things before I have to go to bed. What do you say we grab some take away and watch a movie here?”

You wiped your cheeks and nodded. “I’d like that. And you promise to wake me if I fall asleep on your lap?”

“I don’t know. You’re adorable when you sleep.”

You playfully pushed him. “I’m serious. I already lost most of my day with you. I don’t want to lose anymore time.”

He pulled you close and kissed your forehead. “I promise I’ll wake you if you fall asleep, love.”

You smiled and kissed his lips. “I love you, and I really appreciate the fact that you put up with my sleepy-ness.”

“I’m not ‘putting up’ with anything, because I love you, too.”

He stood from the couch and pulled you with him. You followed him to his car, where the two of you went off to spend your evening together. And you made sure not to fall asleep until the both of you were tucked away in bed that night.

[legendofmorons]

How to fall in love twice part 7

Pairing: Malon x Time x reader

Rating: G

Summary: While you and Malon go on an unofficial coffee date, Time finally has some sense knocked into him thanks to Wild, Warriors, and Legend.

Warnings: N/A

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know

-------

The third day in modern Hyrule begins with the delightful experience of introducing Malon to modern coffee shops. Which is certainly worth it.

However, first, you get a nice shower. With your hair routine, proper soap, any shaving you might choose, and the ability to have hot water. It's glorious, and you are thankful for running water.

Malon takes a shower as well, still confused about modern shower products, but delighted in the effects! She likes that there are so many options. She also adores the hot water since she doesn't have to heat it herself.

Malon has delighted in modern clothes, a sage colored cable knit sweater, and dark jeans are her chosen outfit today.

How the fuck is she so pretty all the time? It should be illegal.

You need to focus on the things going on. Not on how pretty Malon is.

You also need to introduce her to milkshakes. You think she'd like them. But that's for later.

For now, you focus on getting your wallet, keys, and any other items you need for a city outing. You glance at the deity mask sticking our of your bag.

You find both comfort and worry in the presence. The mask has the markings that Time bears. And yet it feels unlike him at all.

You shake your head to dispel the thoughts. There's no use dwelling on those things.

Your time is much better spent on other things. Like kicking ass or spoiling the gorgeous red head you're with.

You lead Malon into the local coffeeshop midmorning. The crowd is not dense, but there's quite a few people there anyway.

Mostly, it's college students who take residence in the establishment.

You both look over the menu, and once you've explained the new drink concepts to her, you both step up to order.

"Welcome to Cuthulu brews. What can I get started for you?" The barista at the counter asks with a smile. Their eyes look dead, though. Classic customer service jobs, sucking the life out of people.

"Can I get a mocha but like - not taste the coffee?" Malon asks.

"Uh- maybe?"

"Why don't you get a shot of espresso in you hot chocolate." You suggest lightly.

"I can do that?"

"Sure, you want hot chocolate with one shot?"

"Yes, please."

"What size?"

Malon looks to you, unsure but excited.

"Large, please." You decide, that'll be more chocolate to hide the coffee taste in.

And really, you think you both deserve nice things after the hell you've been through lately.

You don't know what you'd do without Malon. Ignoring your feelings for her she's still been such a help and pillar of support.

"Awesome, can do. And for you?" The barista turns their attention to you.

You order your drink, along with two breakfast pasteries. You want to make sure you and Malon are both eating well enough.

You pay and leave a tip.

While you and Malon wait for your order, she seems to be buzzing with excitement.

"You're more chipper today, good dreams or something?" You ask with a smile.

The smile she turns on you is dazzling, "Sort of. I'm just glad I'm with you mostly."

"Oh, that's sweet. I'm glad I'm with you too, Mal." You smile and then feel silly using the nickname you've only heard her husband use. "Sorry, uh, the nickname is probably weird."

Malon just shakes her head, "Not really! I like hearing you call me that."

"Oh. Okay." You smile, trying not to read into any of this.

But over the time spent with Malon- your crush has definitely become bigger. And you are a lot closer to in love than you should be.

After collecting your drinks and breakfast, Malon leads you to a window table to sit at. Her mood is the highest it's been in a while.

It's good to see her happy.

"You said you wanted to show me something called - a wifey?"

You nearly choke. "WiFi. Wifey is something different."

Malon laughs, but she looks like she said the wrong thing on purpose. But that's got to be wrong.

(It's not wrong. She's teasing you.)

"You're probably right." She says before taking a sip of her drink.

You just resign yourself to a few bites of breakfast pastry. You need a moment. Just to get your mind up and running again.

"So, if we're in your time, don't you have someone to check in with?" Malon asks as she looks you over.

She does that a lot. Why's she always looking you up and down? She's not checking you out. That's just silly.

(She is checking you out. And she thinks it's rude you keep trying to stop yourself from returning the attention.)

"Not really. I'll be gone again soon so it'd just upset them." You say simply.

Because really the longest you've stayed in any time is a week since you got pulled away from the chain. So why bother upsetting people?

"I guess. But I'd want to hear from you."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You're sweet to me."

Malon makes a face, as if amused and exasperated. She does that a lot when you try to wave off her compliments.

"(Y/n), sweetie, you're a lot better than you give yourself credit for."

"Oh. Uh- thanks."

She just smiles, and sets a hand on your hand. "I mean it. You're going to make whoever you end up with very happy ome day."

She has a weird tone, and you almost think she wishes she was who you end up with. But that's ridiculous and probably not right.

"Thank you."

-------

Time is having a very bad time. Since he saw you and Malon, he's been torn up inside.

On one hand, you're both alive!

On the other hand, you're still who knows where facing threats he can't protect you from.

What a great time.

"You need to eat." Wild says as he pushes the shepard's pie into the old man's hands.

Time looks at him, blinking. Right. Food. He does need sustenance.

"Thank you." Time manages.

Wild just sighs, shaking his head. "You're disrespecting both of them by thinking they're gone."

"I don't - I don't think they're gone... I just think I'll never see them again."

Wild just levels a stern look at Time. He's not paid enough for this. He isn't paid at all, actually.

He will have to talk to Hylia about labor laws. She needs to hear from his union.

First, he needs a union, actually. He'll have to ask Legend for help there.

"What?" Time manages with a strangled edge.

"You're being entirely too pessimistic. Everyone thinks we'll see them again. Even Legend. So are you going to snap out of it?"

Time blinks again, confused and unsure if he should be offended. He's just being realistic!

Right?

"Don't give me that realistic spiel. Stop making things out worse than they are."

"I'm not!"

"We saw them three days ago. They were alive without any immediately fatal injuries, and they were both standing on their own. So unless they've started throwing the same pity party you are, they're fine."

"I'm not throwing a pity party."

"Call it what you want, but you're being too seal-ious."

"You did not just make that pun."

Wild just grins. There is nothing like puns to make people listen to you.

"Is he done making the worst assumptions?" Warriors asks as he makes his way over.

"I don't know. Time?" Wild turns expectantly to the old man.

Time just sighs. "Yes. We need a plan."

"We have a plan." Warriors says, as if it should be obvious.

"Since when?"

"An hour after we saw them. Some of us have been getting shit done." Legend adds helpfully.

"Legend." Warriors sighs. Though he dosen’t seem too far away from the sentiment.

"You didn't tell me?" Time asks, sounding genuinely upset.

"The only people who can pull you out of your spirals consistently are the reason you're spiraling. We tried." Pegend tolls his eyes.

"You're not the only one who misses then, Time." Warriors sits beside Time gently. "You may know Malon the best, but we all like her."

"And we all love (Y/n). Not the way you do, but they're one of us." Wild says firmly, "Twilight is barely keeping it together. You know he hates losing loved ones to portals."

Oh.

Time realizes he's really been disconnected. Of course, everyone else misses you and Malon.

He didn't even think about how the others might feel.

Shit.

"I'm sorry." Time says as he looks between his three companions. "I haven't- been present latley."

"We'll forgive you, this time." Wild gives a little grin, "Just don't get lost in your gear again."

"Deal."

[olderthannetfic]

I just got a comment saying I should have tagged for dom/sub undertones and I'm a little confused. In canon, this guy always bosses his wife around re: doing shit that's healthy for her - napping, drinking water, remembering to eat more than once a day, getting more than 3 hours of sleep - and she lovingly calls him "Boss Man" as a nickname because of it. On some occasions where she's gone more than a day without eating he'll swipe her phone and order her to eat before she gets it back, something she always seems to find endearing. There's a lot of 'I didn't mean to worry you', 'you're worth worrying about, now here's your favorite homemade walnut bread' stuff, all there in canon, just lifted from canon and transplanted into my fic.

Is this dom/sub stuff? I'm aroace so I've never been in a relationship, but I assumed "take care of yourself" "I will but I will call you a silly nickname over it" was regular relationship stuff. Or is it that the frequency of it makes it dom/sub stuff, and I'm just not grasping that because my neurodivergency is making me not read the social cues correctly? I was only recently diagnosed but this has been a problem for a long time, the whole line between normal and abnormal behavior, so I thought I'd ask you. You're much more well-read than I am and know a lot more about shipping dynamics and how they're tagged. I feel like you're an expert whose opinion carries a lot of conclusions-informed-by-knowledge and so your take could help me figure this out.

People who are doms or subs or write them, if you have a guide on this stuff, that'd be cool, too. I want to educate myself more so I know if I should tag something. After all, I can't get my story to people who want to read it if it doesn't show up in the tags they're searching for. Readers aren't mindreaders. It's on me to make sure they can get ahold of the things they're looking for. I just need to work around my own ADHD-addled brain to do it.

--

I think this is the usual pattern of demanding silly tags that would only make sense in that reader's own bookmarks.

Yes, caretaking and food control of various kinds can be a part of BDSM. No, your description of canon does not make it sound like this has obvious undertones.

Readers are going to have different interpretations. It's possible that other readers would agree with this one. I have my doubts. I suspect they're projecting. But sure, maybe other people would think there was some of that vibe.

However, if you did not intend the fic to read this way, I would not add the tag. This is not what the fic is about.

--

As for what this kind of thing can look like when it is intended as a dom/sub activity, the movie Secretary has a bunch of examples. She calls him on the phone to tell him what her family's dinner looks like that night; he gives her instructions about which things she can eat how much of. The way she acts while making that phone call makes it clear it's an exciting game to her. Another time, he tells her she's not allowed to cut herself anymore: he will provide what she needs.

Even if the characters are being playful, just nagging someone to do basic self care doesn't really come across as this. It's more charged when it's an intentional power exchange thing.

It's more like... hmm... if you and a friend agreed to LARP as characters for a day. Even if you were acting fairly normal and doing things you'd often do anyway, there would be this added extra vibe to it that someone who knew you well could probably detect.

It's not so much about the specific behaviors: it's about the extra meaning those people ascribe to them. If it doesn't seem like the canon characters think of this caretaking any specific way and you, as the fic author, don't see it that way, then I don't think it will generally read as a dom/sub thing to most readers.