#like i think those are ruffles? but where are they connected to on the top?

[maybanksprincess]

hii new follower here!!!👋💓 im in love alreadyyy☺️ can i request where instead of pope catching jj and kie on the boat its reader , it doesnt matter if its kook!reader or pouge💖

thank you sweetheart, your so kind! 🥹 thank you for following, and i loveeee this idea so much. thank you for the request!! 💕

you were on the way back to the outerbanks after being on the deserted island for the last several months, everyone thought you had all been missing, maybe dead

after the escape from singh, your on the boat with jj, contemplating your life choices at this point.

"so your sure you didnt tell him where the diary is?" he asks as he adjusts the ropes on the boat, blue eyes locking onto yours.

you meet his gaze, watching his blonde hair fall on his forehead. "i told him i'd seen it, but i didnt tell him where."

he swings back into the inside of the boat, walking over to where your standing "so why does Singh want it so much?" he sits down beside you, on a couch cushion

you look down at him from where your standing "singh said that he thinks the diary has a clue; to the location of some city of gold."

you throw your hands up, not understanding the concept either. "like the gold on the merchant was just a small part of it." you say furrowing your brows

jj looks at you as he speaks, "okay, so the diary we have leads to a 500-year-old treasure that no ones ever found?"

you both look equally confused, not understanding it one bit.

"pretty much." you say simply, nodding your head. you turn your head from the ocean, to meet his eyes again.

"im in. its kind of like- my best option at this point, so... definitely beats sitting in geometry class." jj was never fond of school, never showed up, and when he did, he got horrible grades.

jj stands back up beside you, ruffling and fixing his hair

"yeah, beats boarding school." you say as you tap your hand on the surface in front of you.

"i mean, i dont even know what'll happen when we get back to the obx; nothing good. i can tell you that." he says, scratching the back of his neck.

"shits gonna suck for like a year." you reply, shaking your head.

he grabs the handles on the top of the ceiling of the boat, hanging off of them.

"at least you dont got a restitution, though. No job. No parents. Yeah arrows are gonna be coming in hot." he turns to look at you with those blue eyes, meeting your gaze.

"but you know what we do when arrows come flying?" he questions with a smirk on his face, trying to lighten the mood.

he starts making childish gun noises, and hitting the air, then pulling himself up by the handles on top of him, and kicking the air

"-uh, quick!" you say, pointing a finger at him, cracking a smile.

he walks back over to you, still being childish

"and you shoot right back at 'em. and that spear comes at you, you plant, grab," he says while hitting his thighs and grabbing an imaginary spear, to prove his point.

you look at him still smiling, but furrowing your brows

"disarm, straight into the jugular, finish them off" he makes yet another childish noise, hitting the air. then he turns to look at you as you walk over to him

then the boat hits a wave, and you both stumble, his hand instinctively going to your waist to cushion you incase you fell.

your hand went to his back, now your faces inches apart

your still smiling a little, his eyes drifting down to your lips.

"you know, whatever happpens, were gonna handle it together. like we always do..." you say nodding your head, looking into his eyes.

"y/n." he says lowly, his gaze still drawn to your lips, leaning in.

as soon as you two were about to kiss, pope comes around the corner and calls out to you two.

"hey." pope says. he then connects the dots, and sighs.

jj knew how much pope liked you, but you didnt reciprocate those feelings, and he knows it hurt pope, even more so to find you two about to kiss.

jj opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out.

pope clears his throat, "just wanted to let you guys know that we should probably stop for gas." he gives a forced smile

jj looks around nervously, not knowing how to press this subject "pope, i, uh... yeah. uh-"

"-yeah." pope turns and walks away, not wanting to see anymore.

jj immediately turns to pope and starts to take steps toward him "Pope. Hey, pope."

he stops walking when pope doesnt respond, and he sighs, looking down. "shit." he whispers.

you look at jj with a sympathetic expression, but quickly look away, being a little hurt by the way jj pulled away so quickly.

"ill talk to him" jj says, never looking back up.

all you can do is nod, and look away.

im so sorry if this is bad, im kind of bad with angst!! i hope you liked it, thank you for the request babe!

[ilys00ga]

can i request a fluffy first kiss drabble with yoongi? like reader is inexperienced with dating and other stuff. Reader feels like this is gonna be disappointing for him and they get nervous whenever they're in close proximity with him. He's sweet and just trying to show his love. After some time he thinks maybe reader doesn't have an interest in him like he does with them. He asks directly if they think of him in a romantic and more intimate way at all. Everything turns out okay he understands and comforts the reader

pairing: yoongi x reader.

genre: fluff, just pure fluff with some silliness bcuz we all need to be silly.

warnings: this made me miss yoongi even more so, beware, in case you miss him just like I do.

A/N: thank u so much for this req! I just realised that it's slightly different than what you've requested, but I hope that's okay and that you enjoy reading regardless <3. You're very welcome if u wanna request more stuff or just reach out to me.

PS. English is not my first language, so u know the drill.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

to a person whose only romantic experience was that in books and movies, meeting yoongi was like jumping off of 4 stairs at once as a child, scary but so damn exciting and fun. it was like picking up a book in a language you've been trying to learn for while, full of complex for a beginner like you.

it took you some time to get used to his presence in your life. to him. it's not like you didn't enjoy it, it was far away from that actually, but he was your first, after all.

the two of you hadn't been official for that long, though. after many moon cycles of pining and awkward, shy interactions, it all bloomed at once, and suddenly, you officially got your first boyfriend.

you were planning to go on a proper date, after the previous one had miserably failed (a tale to tell for another day), only for it to be met with a heavy rain storm. yoongi ended up apologizing, and offered you an indoors dinner, some cuddles and a movie for the night.

after finishing your meal, he held your hand in his and led you to the living room, where he had prepared a cozy setting with snacks and wine.

he noticed the way your body tensed every time he initiated any kind of physical connection between the two of you. at first, he didnt think much of it, assuming it was because just the beginning of your relationship. he was also well aware that you've never dated anyone before, so it was only natural for you to be awkward with that.

he really understood. after all, he himself wasn't a fan of skin ship and was extremely shy as well. he almost always tried to initiate it for you, because of how caring and loving you are towards him. you always took care of him, something he's very grateful for. and so, he made sure to remind himself to show you that he does with those little gestures of affection every now and then.

but then, he started noticing more frequently. everytime he attempted to hug you, hold your hand, peck your face, or even those two times he almost just leaned in to kiss your lips—but stopped halfway. and each time his worry reaches the tip of his toungue, waiting to be spilled in the form of a question, he always ends up letting it slip when you quickly brush it off and comply to whatever he wanted to do.

"thank you for the dinner, it was really good." you said, watching as yoongi's face lit up with a grin. his hand affectionately ruffled the top of your head, a habit of his that you've grown fond of the more often he did it. suddenly, he reached out for his phone, tapping a few buttons and a soft, slow beat rode the air of the room.

dropping his phone on the sofa, he put his left hand out and asked, "may I have a dance with you, darling?"

chuckling, you nodded and intertwined your fingers with his.

he pulled you in, chest flush against his with his free hand resting on your waist. then, he started swaying both of your bodies to the music.

"you're welcome, darling." he replied, kissing your cheek. he sensed your body tensing again, this time your fists tightening on top of his shoulders, and he hummed.

"I would very much like to kiss you right now."

eyes widening, you froze in your place when you heard his whisper. you felt your cheeks burning up. it took you off guard. your brain struggled to figure out what to say or do next, so you just stood there and stared at him. it's happening.

in books and movies, first kisses are that thing that everyone gets to experience at one point in their life, but not everyone gets to enjoy it. and right now, thinking about the possibility of yoongi not liking your first kiss is not helping calm your nervous system at all.

"can I..?" he pleaded, eyes never leaving yours with a tiny hint of a smirk appearing on his face.

"i- I've never done this before, I don't wanna ruin it for you and-" you stuttered nervously as you averted your eyes. the change of the atmosphere was starting to feel way too overwhelming for you, and all you could think about was how he'd feel like once he realises how bad you are at this.

"hey, look at me." once again, and with a very gentle voice, yoongi whispered. his finger gently rested under your chin and lifted your head. his eyes, ever so caring and tender, soothed your nerves down. you swallowed what remained stuck in your throat of concerns.

"it's okay if you've never experienced this before. and I'm not gonna force you to do it, now or any other time, if you don't want me to. but I really would like to show you just how amazing it feels, so please allow me to do so." he added.

you took a deep breathe in and slowly nodded. even though you've been together for just a couple of weeks, you love yoongi, and you trust him. you know he's never gonna do anything that's gonna end up hurting you in any possible way, and you've always been thankful for how respectful and thoughtful he is.

"o-okay..." you finally agreed, giving him his much desired green light.

"okay." he smiled, "let me ask again. Is it okay if I kiss you right here and now?"

"yes, please.."

like a kid that finally got permission to open his first birthday present of the day, yoongi leaned in and gently met your lips with his.

the first kiss was not like that of the movies, it was light and short. yoongi pulled back, eyes finding yours again as to make sure nothing went wrong. it took you a moment to regain your senses again, but you smiled sheepishly after a few heart beats, reassuring him that everything was fine, and he leaned in again. this time, he pulled your body closer to his, one hand gently holding your wasit and the other cupping your jaw.

he did all the work, and you just stood there with your eyes closed, focusing on the warmth of his skin against yours. he realised that you weren't sure where to put your hands when your balled up fists clenched on his sleeves, so he gently guided them to the back of his neck.

it all felt so new, so refreshing. your stomach felt so funny, and your heart beat so fast against your chest. the sound of heavy raindrops landing on the window, along with the music that's still playing in the room, was distant. all you could feel was his chest against yours, his lips pressing against yours. his hands gently holding your face and his fingers caressing your cheeks.

shortly after, you tapped his shoulder in panick as it started getting harder to hold your breath in.

yoongi pulled out, face inches away from yours, and panted, "I'm sorry. got caught up in the feeling of your honey lips."

looking at him up this close, he looked so pretty. red tinted cheeks and cherry plumped up lips. you suddenly really wanted to kiss him more. your face flushed a deep, rosy red at that thought.

chuckling, you hid your face in both of your hands and crouched down.

"hey, relax. it's okay." yoongi chuckled softly and crouched down next to you, running his hand down your back and lifting your face, "you're so red, are you alright?" he teased.

you whined and hugged his torso, hiding your face in his chest.

"was it that bad?" he continued to joke, giggling as he enjoyed your reaction.

"it was amazing, I loved it a lot." when you lifted your face and looked up at him, he saw your eyes sparkling with joy, and perhaps some gratitude. yoongi leaned down and kissed your forehead.

"how'd you like your first kiss, my lady?" he asked, and you hummed.

"thank you, you're literally the best. I don't deserve you."

"don't say that. you deserve the best. I cannot believe I've waited this long to kiss you."

you chuckled, "it's only been two weeks, yoongi."

"and what about it? have you seen yourself? your lips?!"

you slap his back playfully, giggling at his dramatic silliness before looking back up at him, "I can't believe I've been anxious about it this whole time." you pouted.

"it's okay, darling. it's all new to you. today, it's a kiss, tomorrow, something much better is coming your way." he chuckled.

"yoongi!" you slap him again. perhaps, this time with a little bit more of strength to emphasize your exclamation.

[ruewrote]

𝑗𝑎𝑐𝑜𝑏 𝑐𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠.

navigation | ask | the quarry masterlist

protective, but in the sweetest way:

   – jacob is definitely the type to keep an eye on you, not in an overbearing way but more like a silent guardian. he knows you can handle yourself, but he can’t help but worry sometimes, especially after everything that’s happened at hackett’s quarry.

   – he’s always the first to throw his arm around your shoulders or stand a little too close when things start to feel sketchy, but he does it with a casualness that makes it feel comforting, like a constant reminder that he’s got your back.

affectionate goof:

   – jacob shows his love through physical affection, whether it’s ruffling your hair, giving you playful shoulder bumps, or sneaking up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist and spin you around.

   – he loves making you laugh, often telling terrible jokes just to see your smile and when you do laugh, he grins proudly to himself.

endless compliments:

   – jacob’s never shy about telling you how beautiful you are. whether you’re dressed up or just lounging in sweats, he’s always got something sweet to say.

   – “how’d i get so lucky, huh?” he’ll ask with a lopsided smile, pulling you into his lap as he playfully pretends to think about it. ���seriously though, you’re gorgeous.”

casual dates:

   – jacob’s idea of the perfect date is something relaxed and fun, like a late night drive, a picnic by the lake or binge watching a dumb reality show together.

   – he loves the idea of little adventures, like spontaneous road trips to nowhere, and insists on pulling over to explore random spots just to make memories with you.

secretly a hopeless romantic:

   – even though he’s a bit of a jock and acts all cool, jacob has a soft side when it comes to you. he loves surprising you with random little things. flowers he picked himself, your favorite snacks, or even handwritten notes he leaves around the house.

   – sometimes, when you’re lying together he’ll get quiet and just stare at you, thinking about how lucky he is. when you catch him, he’ll just blush and pull you closer, mumbling something like, “can’t help it, you’re too cute.”

jealous, but playful:

   – jacob can get a little jealous, but he tries to laugh it off. if someone’s flirting with you, he’ll come up and drape himself over you, saying something like, “hey, babe, didn’t see you talking to this random person here.”

   – you’ll tease him about it, but he knows it’s all in good fun. he trusts you completely, but he also loves any excuse to show everyone that you’re his.

cuddling is a must:

   – no matter where you are. whether it’s the couch, a hammock or even on the grass under the stars. he’ll pull you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you protectively.

   – he loves resting his head on top of yours or tangling his legs with yours, making sure you’re close enough to feel his warmth. it’s one of the ways he feels most connected to you.

late night talks:

   – jacob loves those deep, quiet conversations that happen late at night when you’re both half asleep. you’ll be lying in bed and he’ll start talking about the future or random dreams he’s had.

   – sometimes he gets a little vulnerable in these moments, telling you about his fears, his insecurities, and his hopes and you always reassure him, which means alot to him.

playful banter and competition:

   – jacob loves a bit of friendly competition and he’ll challenge you to silly things like arm wrestling, races.

   – of course, he’ll always let you win (he’ll pretend he wasn’t trying), just to see you smile. 

not so secretly sentimental:

    – despite his sometimes goofy exterior, jacob holds onto little mementos from your time together. he keeps a collection of photos, random doodles you’ve made, even concert tickets from dates.

    – one time, you found him staring at a photo of you two and when you asked about it, he just smiled softly and said, “this one’s my favourite.”

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[writingsbychlo]

HI, I was wondering if I could request and Azriel x reader where az is super protective over her and stuff. Like she is tiny and he always wants to hold her close:) I love your writings!!

I mixed this up a bit to add some humour as well as fluff

"Hey, tiny."

Cassian ruffled your hair as he walked past, and you scowled, swiping at his shoulder and being even more irritated at the chuckle he gave as he dodged. "I'm not tiny!"

"Sure you're not, short-stack." He beamed, cockily, teeth glinting in the early morning sun as he paced leisurely across the room toward the training ring, making you speed to keep up with every one of his long strides. As though noticing this too, he chuckled under his breath, and you shot him a dirty look from the side of your eye.

"I'm gonna kick your ass for these comments y'know."

"Ouch!" He cupped a hand over his chest, feigning a fatal wound, before stepping his way up tot he raised platform of the training ring. "Do you treat Az like this when he calls you tiny?"

"Azriel does no such thing!" You scoffed, following him up and watching him lean down to pat his hands onto the powdered floor, gathering some of the dust and rubbing it into his palms, ready.

"What are you talking about? He does it all the time!" Your eyes narrowed, turning a little to look over toward the practice dummies where some of the priestesses trained. Your mate's back was to you, yet he had stiffened, spine stock straight and fingers of one hand clenched into a tight fist where they rested behind his back. He was listening.

"Oh, does he, now?" Your teeth clenched a little, and you watched Azriel twitch somewhat, still attempting to feign nonchalance, but his shadows were creeping up his body, wrapping tightly around him in protective swirls.

"Uh, yeah. It's always 'look how pint-sized she looks in the wing-chairs, Cass' or 'how can I find her missing hoodie when her clothes are like the size of one of my gloves, Cass!' or-"

"Cassian!" Azriel's voice cut clear and sharp through the room, both your and Cassian's heads snapping towards your mate. He swallowed thickly, refusing to meet your eye as he glared at his brother. "Do you think you could come and assist the priestesses in a training exercise?"

"Yeah, in a moment!" Cassian smirked, turning his gaze back to you, and something flickered within them, something disastrous. "As I was saying, it's always 'gods, she is never going to reach that shelf, but I'm sure going to have fun watching her try', and-"

In a flurry of writhing black, Cassian was ripped from your view, his deep laughter disappearing into the folds between space before Azriel was emerging from the smoke. Half a second later, Cassian yelled as he fell from the sky half a mile outside, wings popping out and banking across the horizon.

"Azriel."

"My love." He tried, offering a sweet smile, and your arms folded over your chest.

"Pint-sized?"

"Adorable." He corrected, rocking forward on the tips of his toes to tap your nose, as though the act wasn't digging him a deeper hole.

"Size of your glove?"

"Made for my hands, of course." He was smooth, you'd give him that, you had to bite your tongue just to keep from smiling at that line.

"And you're why everything has been mysteriously moving higher and higher up around here then?" You raised a brow, and he faltered a little. Faltered, as though expecting you wouldn't have noticed your favourite cereal move from the third shelf to the top, or your shoes now stacked on the top of the wardrobe instead of underneath.

"Well, it's just so fun for me watching you stretch and reach, especially when you wear those tiny little nightgowns in the morning- hey!" He grinned, catching your fist as it flew at him, your curled fingers connecting in a punch to his palm, fingers wrapping around it and lowering it. You tried again with the other, swiping faster, lower, but he caught that too.

Forcing both of your contained hands to your sides he tugged you closer grinning down at you and lowering enough to brush the tip of his nose against your own.

"You'll have to do better than that, my small sweetheart."

"Don't call me that!" You swiped at his legs with one of yours, twisting to take him out, and he stumbled, but didn't go down, smirking as you as a sparring match began.

"Oh, you don't like that? How about 'little love'?" With a growl on your lips, you lunged again, landing a blow to his chest this time, and he grunted at the impact. He didn't hesitate to retaliate, though, grabbing you by your wrist and twisting your back, pinning one arm behind your back between your bodies as his chest came flush up against you from behind. "No? Dainty darling? Mini muse?"

"I despise you!"

You ducked, using his body weight against him as you moved fast, letting him stumble forwards before shooting back up. Bracing your feet, as his grip on your arm went slack, you rose back up, shoulder slamming into his stomach. He bent at the waist, and you twisted around him, a kick to the back of the leg and he went down to one knee, the other swiftly following.

"Take it back."

He only chuckled as you took a handful of his hair, tugging his head back, feeling victorious as you stood behind him. Panting, a little sweaty, and he leaned back into you, head resting against your stomach. "No."

"Take it back!"

He reached behind, hands grabbing for your calves, pulling them up from the floor and sending you tumbling backwards, groaning as your back hit the floor, head following, the wind knocked from you as Azriel quickly followed, the weight of his upper half almost pinning you to the ground. "I'll take it back when you win."

Your legs wrapped around his core, and you used what little strength you could muster in this position to throw yourself over, twisting his body roughly as you went. He coughed, the side of his face pressed down to the floor for the powdered ring, wheezy and breathless laughter, as you sat perched on his lower back. Leaning forward before he could move, you shuffled, pressing a hand down to the space beneath his wings as they flared from their tucked position.

You held him down, the other hand reaching a finger out to press just over his racing pulse on his neck, and a shudder when down his body as your nail scraped light at his skin. "You're lucky I don't have my knives, or else you'd be finished."

He grinned, tapping his hand three times against the mat, and you waited, punishing him for a second longer, before you let him go. Sinking down to kneel by his side instead, he sat up, legs spreading to sit on either side of your hips, leaning back on his palms. He was covered in dust, and you reach d hand forward, smile dimming as you brushed the substance from his skin, and he leaned his head into your palm.

"You know I don't mean it as an insult, right? Never an insult, never would anything I say about you be less than absolute adoration, my love."

"I know." You frowned, his brow furrowing as he waited for you to go on. "You warriors are so big, and when I- before you, before coming here, before training, I always felt so weak and small and useless. I hate feeling like that anymore."

"You know you're not. Look at you, you just took down one of those warriors."

"You let me win." You couldn't help your eye roll.

"I did not!" He threw a handful of powder at you, grinning at the splotches of pale marks it left on your shirt, and the cough you followed it with. "However, if you wanted a rematch, I'm happy to hand you your ass this time.."

"Oh, shut it." He shrugged, silence enveloping you for a few seconds, as you gathered your thoughts. "You know I'm, like, as tall as Nesta, right? You wouldn't call her tiny."

"No, but her attitude and temper make her taller than her mate." You couldn't deny that, letting out a soft sigh. "You're just.. of course, you're tiny to me. Everyone is tiny to me, but you? There's something extra about the way you do things. Alright, maybe you're tall compared to everyone else, but when I can hide you away from the world with just one wing, it makes me feel something. It scares me, because it makes me think about how easily you could be taken from me. All I want, all I ever want, is to protect you, my love. I can't lose you."

"You're not going to lose me, Azriel." You hoped he could feel it, the reassurances and promises thrumming down the bond. He sent back a wave of love and assurances in return. "You couldn't possibly, not when you have at least three of your shadows watching me at any given time."

His lips parted, jaw dropping as much as he'd allow it, and you were sure had his cheeks not been flushed from exercise that he'd be blushing. "You know?"

"My equal is the spymaster, I have to be alert, you gave me nothing in those first few months. I had to learn to read you myself, to know how you play."

He huffed a laugh. "My cunning, beautiful, tiny mate." He reached out, tugging you toward shim with one hand on your jaw until your lips were brushing. A soft kiss, barely there, and you pecked his puckered lips lightly, teasing him for more.

"You're going to pay for that comment, later."

[minluce]

Weak Hero - Wolf Keum Meta and Backstory Theory

I recently reread and caught up with this series; it's one of the two webtoons that I genuinely like. Anyway, having thoughts. Spoilers for up to chapter 227.

Hot take that Wolf Keum is actually very similar to Gray Yeon. He actually makes the connection himself while watching Gray fight Dongha: They both get serious tunnel vision when they're fighting.

But I don't think the parallels stop there. I'm not the first person to bring up the theory on Wolf's backstory, that he was formerly a victim of physical bullying, before the roles swapped when he started to retaliate. The main evidence that points towards this theory is that Wolf likes to block with his face... that is to say that he just doesn't block hits. He's a tank, and he's borderline unphased by getting pummeled. It's very possible that he has a history of receiving hits a lot, therefore building up a resilience to physical blows.

The main thing we're told that makes us go "Oh wow Wolf Keum is insane", when he's first introduced as an antagonist, is the 3 second role. He beats anyone up for holding eye contact with him for longer than 3 seconds.

Now consider: everytime Gray beats someone to a pulp, his internal monologue is "I'll make it so that he can never look us in the eyes again."

Because of what happened to Stephan Ahn, Gray fights against those who threaten his friends or himself, beating them to the point where they wouldn't dare to retaliate, or do anything to challenge his authority. In a similar manner, albeit exaggerated to an unreasonable degree, Wolf retaliates against any (perceived) threat against himself. Maintaining eye contact is seen as a challenge, in both Wolf and Gray's book, but whereas Wolf is always reactive to the smallest slight, Gray is willing to let microaggressions off the hook.

The theory that Wolf used to be a victim is also supported by the timeline as well. He's the newest member of the union. He's a dark horse; he was on nobody's radar in Middle School, before suddenly becoming a big deal in High School. Just like Gray, who was simply an unassuming "nerd" up until his third year, when he went ballistic on the bullies who had tormented Stephan all year.

The difference? 

Gray had Stephan; he has friends who support him and drag him away from the edge. Friends who tell Gray "hey, they're not worth it, you're better than them".

I think it's safe to assume that no one has the guts to tell Wolf that. Without anyone to put the brakes on his rampage, Wolf got into the habit of going too far, for too little.

The role reversal from constantly being on the bottom, on the receiving end of other's violence, to being on top, would have contributed to Wolf's short temper and overwhelming arrogance. He reacts to smallest things because he won't let anyone bully him anymore. He's arrogant because he's drunk off of the victory of being on top. There isn't anyone to tell him that he's "done enough", so he keeps going, and going, and going, until it's no longer "retaliation", he's simply become the same as those who he originally lashed out against.

We even see these traits in Gray, after his fight on the rooftop, which Jake comments on. Jake compares Gray to Donald, saying that he's grown used to fighting, even to the point that he enjoys beating people up. But I think, assuming my theory isn't off the mark, the comparison would also work with Wolf.

It's the behavior of someone who has been the victim of aggression, and is sick and tired of putting up with it. They blindly, instinctively, lash out at any (perceived or otherwise) threat to themselves, or that which they want to protect (Gray's friends, Wolf's newfound authority). Other than that, they don't go intentionally provoking others into a fight, nor do they go out of their way to torment those who have done nothing to ruffle any feathers.

The only exception is... Grape, who Wolf seems to get an extra kick out of tormenting. I do suspect that the reason for this will be revealed with Wolf's backstory, but for now I will summarize this entire post by saying that I am the biggest Wolf Keum apologist, and will be a biggest clown too if this theory is completely off the mark.

[ghostchems]

hello my dumbass was up watching horror media before bed even though i know it gives me HORRIBLE anxiety so could we maybe get a drabble or something of terzo comforting a fem!reader having a mini anxiety attack before bed, maybe with cuddling involved? thank you so much :,)

love love this prompt! tw anxiety. about 700 words.

“Oh my god, why did I do this to myself?” You squeak out in a hushed whisper as you pull your knees up to your chest. Blankets and pillows surround you and the only light in your room coming from your dimly light cell phone screen which is now laying face up on your bed. It’s just you in your room. You feel your chest start to tighten and your heart starts to thud. Your phone screen times out and goes black, a jolt of terror striking through you so you quickly unlock your phone. 

It was one of those nights where you didn’t have much to do and you went down a YouTube rabbit hole. It didn’t take long until you found yourself deep into unsettling videos that you could have just scrolled past but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. You told yourself you wouldn’t be scared, that they weren’t real and that you’ve seen and researched far worse things while being a member of the church of Satan but… here you are. 

You try to distract yourself but the thoughts have already taken hold. The thought to text a few of your friends crossed your mind but who would be awake at this hour?

Shit.

You know someone who would be.

Within seconds, he is at your door with somehow perfectly ruffled hair and a sleepy grin. His t-shirt is a bit wrinkly and his sweatpants make it painfully obvious that he is not wearing any briefs. He leans in close to you, his grin only growing.

“Thinking about me, eh, sibling?” Terzo’s voice is deep and husky but at the moment, you couldn’t care less about him being the over the top flirt he is. The two of you had connected recently and the last time you were together things got a bit hot and heavy. 

“I-I’m sorry, Terzo. I’m not in the mood for that.” You whisper, holding your pillow to your chest and clutching your phone. “I’m a little spooked tonight.” A wave of embarrassment washes over you as your cheeks turn bright red. His expression immediately changes to concern and he is quick to loop one of his arms around you and pull you close.

“Why didn’t you say so, tesoro?” He hums into your ear then starts to usher you back to your bed. The light of your phone helps guide the two of you until Terzo flips the switch to your desk lamp to allow a warm, dim yellow light to flood the room. He is so close behind you, his strong nose nuzzling against your hair and neck as the two of you waddle to your bed. You slip into it and he is right there beside you, the warmth of his body pressing into you and his arms wrapping securely around your chest. 

When you hooked up, there was no snuggling or after care, so you’re pleasantly surprised by how comfortable he makes you. In all honesty, you weren’t expecting him to react in such a way to you being frightened but it makes the crush on him you already have blossom and the butterflies in your stomach flutter. 

“Will you stay the night?” You pipe up once you are comfortably nestled underneath the covers and in his arms. The tightness in your chest is already gone and you still feel a little bit like a baby for having to have someone come comfort you.

“Si, si, of course I will. I would not be able to live with myself if you have a nightmare after I’ve left.” He teases, his soft lips brushing against your cheek, You snuggle in close to him and manage a soft giggle as he gives you a squeeze. “Rest now, puffetta. I will fight off the monsters for you.” 

Terzo starts to gently stroke your arms and presses his nose against your temple. You focus on his breathing, his chest rising and falling against you and you start to match the pattern until your eyes start to grow heavy and your mind starts to drift.

Soft breaths puff through your lips as you fall asleep soundly in his strong arms.

[rederiswrites]

I know I'm a day late and a dollar short, but I guess I haven't been Visibly Genderqueer in a while. So sure. I can talk about my trans-adjacent experience.

That's the thing, though. I am not. Visibly genderqueer, that is. If you're a traditionalist, you'd definitely notice that I utterly and completely fail to perform femininity--but then, you also might not. People tend to be very focused on specific features and assume gender and stick with that. My neighbor used to get grumpy because even though she routinely dressed her sons in camo and sports gear, they both had long, beautiful hair, and were both id'd by strangers as girls very regularly. Me, I have big breasts and wide hips, thick thighs, a cute, upturned nose, a fairly conventionally attractive face, and I top out at 5 foot 3 (160cm). I know perfectly well what basically anyone around here sees when they look at me.

They see a woman, married to a man (a very Manly man, at that, both in appearance and habits), with two children. I know that. Even though I am out to anyone who's been around long enough to hear me mention it, I haven't asked for a pronoun change. For me, it's just too much bother. It'd be different if my nonbinary experience were different, but I'm agender. I just don't have a connection of any sort with gender. It's just a sort of void space, a blank incomprehension, though I can observe that This Thing matters a great deal to nearly everyone else.

Well, there's a reflexive avoidance. Long before I had heard words like genderqueer or agender or even trans (when I was young, these words were limited to the queer community for the most part, and certainly not used where I lived), I had a reflexive avoidance of all things feminine. It wasn't a thought. I just knew that I absolutely did not want to wear lace, or pink, or ruffles--yes, we still wore ruffles in the 80's. My freshman year high school picture appears to be a fresh-faced ten year old boy, with short hair, a red and white striped turtleneck, and brown corduroy overalls. But I didn't have thoughts for that, only a feeling.

I envy younger people their confidence that people can and should and will treat them according to their personal relationship with gender. Maybe at 42 I am too old to learn that optimism, even though things are changing so much. I think about going by they/them, and it sounds like teaching multiple overlapping communities how to handle the idea of an agender person. Exhausting. Even though there are trans people in some of my in-person communities, and those communities are making honest efforts to welcome that, a person who just doesn't have any attachment to gender at all feels like going even further back to the beginning, undoing even more of their basic beliefs about the world. Ah, yes, you've begun to accept that sometimes the categories of "man" and "woman" can flip around. Now, how would you like to just reject the entire notion that people necessarily have gender? How would you like to just trash-bin one of the defining elements of Self?

And all this effort, over a concept I don't understand at all. It just doesn't feel worth it.

I am me. My name is Red. I look like this, and I like how I look. It comes with assumptions. Many of those assumptions are wrong. Some of them chafe. But I do not have the time or energy to individually disabuse people of every wrong assumption. I'll just live the way I live, and if that shatters a few assumptions along the way, all the better. And honestly, if you're calling me she or her, I'm probably not there to be bothered by it anyway.

[aprilbrowines]

Chained up pitbull

Summary: A flashback into how the king and queen of townsville's underbelly first met.

Venus jones belongs to @princess-lunalu

warning: story contains a descriptive scene of gore you have been warned!

In the thicket of the deep dark forest lies a school for the descendants of the most vile criminals known to this world, Vladimir's school for the Giftedly Evil, a place where those whose hearts and mind were filled with wickedness and cunning would be able to sharpen their skills and rise to the top of villainy mastermind.

A boy was hanging about near the lockers, his short scruffy Auburn hair ruffled in the style of short spikes as his uniform jacket wrapped around his waist and a silver chain on the belt loops. Caleb Alexis Demopoulos or Carnage as he prefers to be known by was administered to this school a week ago due to the connection his absent mother had with the headmaster’s godfather and had made a slight reputation for himself, despite his age he had quite the strength and aggression to keep himself from being stepped on like a stray dog in a junkyard barking loudly.

His dad Fistrick raised him by himself with the help of his bro members, training the boy and teaching him the ropes and nutritional values. The intercom buzzed alive as it made the announcements, “Caleb Demopulos, report to master Blaine’s office immediately”

‘Wonder what he wants me for?’ He thought as he went to the office, hands in his pockets. He could hear some of the students whispering among themselves, how they knew he would fail in a week, how he didn’t have the skills or powers. Carnage unwrapped the jacket and put it back on once near the door. He could feel an aura of dread and danger from the office, swallowing his fear he puffed up his chest and walked inside.

“Ay what’s up bro?” He said “You wanted to see me and shit?”

The Chair swirled to reveal the young headmaster, his cold venomous glare snuffed out every ounce of Carnage's bravado rather quickly causing the student to clear his throat. “I mean why did you call me to your office sir.” he corrected himself. Blaine got up from his desk and began to walk about, “I’ve been monitoring you Caleb and I must say, you have the potential to be…ruthless and cunning. BUT your rather impulsive and brash behavior bothers me but not in the way you think.” He says his voice coming off as a cold yet soothing humm as he circled around Caleb like that of a wolf ready to pounce, “The way you lead your “Bros” is downright messy and could lead to a full on ambush.”

Caleb knitted his brow looking pissed, “Hey you don’t know how my bros are, bet you’ve never had to get your hands dirty.” He muttered before feeling a tight grip on his shoulder. “DO not underestimate me Caleb.” he said in a cold harsh tone, “While you were lifting weights and drinking protein shakes, I have been keeping this academy moving smoothly, collecting money from crime syndicates, and meeting with high caliber villains the likes you’ve only heard about. Not to mention I simply out rank the likes of you off heritage alone….”

Blaine could smell his fear as sweat dripped from Caleb's brow, “judging from your reaction I can see you understand your mistake…right?

Caleb swallows the lump in the throat as he nods slowly, Blaine releases his grip from his shoulder. He goes to his desk to push a button, “Please send Miss Jones to my office.”

“Right away sir.”

Caleb’s eyes darted towards the door, his brain told him to bolt out of there but his legs were frozen with fear.

“Mr. Demopulos since your behavior and actions are… rather unkempt,” He sneered at the last word “it would be best to have you be partnered with someone who can mentor you.”

‘Great, I'm gonna be babysat by some crotchety old hag.’ Caleb thought to myself before hearing the door open to reveal another student.

“You wanted me sir?” She asks in a slight southern drawl. Venus stood in the doorway before walking in.

He looked at her, then Blaine, then back to Venus. She was a slender and petite little thing that only came to his chest and looked as if she was made of porcelain. With eyes that were a sickly yellow and red.

“Caleb, this is Miss Venus Jones and your partner.”

Laughter started to bubble up in Caleb’s chest before escaping out in big waves, he never knew that Blaine could be a jokester. He held his chest before looking at him again to see that he was serious about this.

“You… gotta be kidding me, if you expect me to be dragged down by this lil southern belle then-” Before he could finish Venus pulled him down to her eye level gripping his head by his scalp.

She let out guttural hiss that vibrated through his very bearing before punching him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. He'd doubled over and held his stomach as Blaine chuckled darkly.

“Don’t let her size deceive you,” He said “She's your superior and has done villany much longer than you have in order to survive.”

“And as your superior you will give her the respect you give to me… Is that clear?”

“…Yes sir.” Caleb grumbles as Blaine dismisses both of them to their classes.

As they walked back Caleb looked at Venus’s physique, there was no way she could be his superior, Blaine probably made that stuff up to scare him straight.

He gripped his fabric of the shirt where his stomach was, ’She just got a lucky shot…’ he thought to himself.

~~

At lunch he saw her eating lunch by herself and sat next to her.

Without as much as looking up she pushes his tray off her table “Don't sit next to me,” She said “You smell like a mix of swamp ass and ax body spray and I don't want yer stench rubbing off on me.”

“You may sit across but never next to me.”

Caleb sucked his teeth as he narrowed his eyes, “Funny thought you wouldn’t mind seeing how it would smell like home away from home.” He takes his tray and sits across Venus, he processes to eat his lunch with his mouth open, bits of food flew on her face.

Venus sneered wiping her face “ I grew up in Gotham dumbass…”

“You should fill your tray with more protein.” He said, chugging his green iced tea “You’d probably be able to get gains like mine.” He flexes his biceps in front of her

“Actually getting fit and not looking like you got out of a hospital stay.”

Venus growls as she calmly wipes her face, “I don’t need more protein, I get enough as it is considering my diet…. and second, I don't need to get fit seeing how I got your ass in the office.” She smirks as Caleb choked on his drink.

“Besides… I barely eat the food here. I do most of my dining after school. That's when I partake in real cuisine, which I'm gonna show you after school.” Venus giggles “Then I think you'll get a taste of why I was chosen to be your mentor.” ‘Wait… is she asking me out?’ Caleb thought as he cleaned his face with napkins, she must be playing hard to get and is teasing him.

‘Gotta play it cool.’

~~

As the school day was finished and the evening was settling in, Celeb and Venus walked to her home, the leaves danced across the street as the two kept close. He noticed that she was rubbing her arms to fight the chill in the air.

“Uhhh… do you want my hoodie?” he asks

“I’m fine, it’s not that cold.” she replies

As they walked past an alleyway a pair of eyes was looking at the two students, the stranger focused on Venus seeing her as an easy target, he sneaked quietly behind the two trailing them.

In a flash, He closed his forearm around Venus' neck and wrenched her back, her feet leaving the street as he dragged her away.

“Don’t you dare make a peep you got that bitch?” the mugger said in a harsh whisper holding a knife close to her neck, she blinked her third eyelid growling at man. Caleb turns to see Venus was gone before he heard a pained shout, he sees the mugger with Venus in chokehold as he runs off with her with Caleb chasing them.

As they turn a corner to the alleyway the sound of wet ripping was heard as Celeb gets close

The sight before him was disturbing to say the least. Venus's tiny form sat in top of the man hunched over he could barely see what she was doing at first till her head snapped back

The alleyway was splattered with a macabre mixture of blood and gore, the air thick with the coppery scent of death. Caleb now had a better view of what went down. The creep’s neck, shoulders and chest cavity were torn to shreds.

Venus had made quick work of him in the seconds it took for him to catch up.the chest looked nearly empty as if she swallowed his organs whole.

'For a small girl she could really put food away...' he thought.

He pauses his thought as he realizes his presence was noticed. Venus looked back at him, her pale porcelain cheeks painted in the crimson fluid and flesh of her victim, as she turned to face him. Her eyes, vacant and unrecognizing, stare through him as if she's no longer present.

There was no humor, malice or playfulness there; she was just a predator getting her fill. And he was an outsider interrupting her meal.

“Want a bite?” she gasped ripping off a from its socket. The flesh tearing with ease in her grip like pulled pork. Her small delicate hand lifted it up as an offering. “It looks like you could use some protein.”

His face felt warm as he got close to the ground.

~~

Caleb’s eyes shot open as he sat up from his slumber, his heart beating rapidly as he saw his hoodie on a chair.

“Shit… that was a fucked up dream.” he said to himself before looking around the living room, there were a bunch of houseplants around an open window as it was framed with leaves and trailing out. The smell of blood was replaced as the scent of fresh cut honeysuckle and lavender faintly linger in the air.

He realized that this was not his house.

He steady himself off the deep green couch as his feet felt the plush rug beneath him, the apartment felt more akin to a cozy greenhouse cottage than the home of a teenage girl. His ears caught the sound of a soft kettle whistling, he peeks his head to see venus making tea. His mind couldn’t understand.

The same girl who eviscerated a fully grown man was now making tea dressed in an oversized t-shirt, her hair in a messy bun as she took the kettle off the stove and poured the steaming liquid into a mug.

It was as if she reverted back into a petite waif he saw earlier, As she went to the cabinet to get some honey Caleb quickly ducked his head from the kitchen with his mind swarming with thoughts like an angry wasp nest.

“There's no way in hell that could be the same girl!”

“But it was and now we’re in her territory and probably next on the chopping block!”

“Maybe she won’t eat us, maybe she invited us over.”

“Yeah right, I've seen slasher horrors. I know a kidnapping to being inside a cannibal’s freezer when I see one!”

“Is it weird if we got turned on by her murder mode before we fainted?”

The thoughts stopped as he looked at Venus holding a tray. “I see you woke up.” she said, bending over to place the tray on the coffee table.

“You probably have questions, and I'm willing to answer them if you don't make any attempts on my life. Not like ya would kill me believe me many have tried. Shit I got curious about what hell looks like…sadly I can't really die.”

She shrugs before flopping down on the couch, her legs neatly crossed as she flips on the TV before looking back at him.

“If you try to, you're just gonna piss me off and ruin my sleeping shirt. Then I'll have to cut ya open like a fish you're not very impressive to look at so I can't even use you for the cam videos I do,” she says simply.

“I guess the first and obvious thing you should know is I'm a cannibal and I mostly eat men women on the rare occasion if I see a bitch that gives me enough of the…ick. The guys I eat are your typical perverts, creeps, abusers, and frat bros.”

She giggled pulling him towards her, hooking her clawed finger by his belt buckle. Her eyes give him a flirty look as she shows off her sharp teeth.

“That means I won't hesitate snacking on you if you gimme a reason.”

He nods understanding what she means as he sits back down on the couch. “I can definitely see why Blaine put you as my superior.” he said, sipping his mug, “Sorry if you had to carry me all the way to your apartment, i must have been quite heavy.”

She smirks, “I’ve dealt with bigger guys than you, you're pretty shrimpy honestly.”

Caleb made a face before drinking more of his tea, his eyes widened from the flavor “This is pretty good,” He said “What did you put in?”

“It’s lavender strawberry tea with orange blossom honey, I grew the lavender myself.” she said simply leaning back propping her feet up on the coffee table.

He felt a little more relaxed as he talk to Venus

“So you’ve said you do cam videos like the red rooms? Do you take chat requests?” he said half joking, “Probably got some donations from them or whatever.”

Venus chuckled “ something like that … .I don't need it for cash, the stuff I do for Blaine pays me enough. I have a second apartment way nicer than this one but that's for me and my lil boy toy.”

“This place is my lil sanctuary, a real home.”

Caleb sat down next to Venus, as he did so a news report talking about a missing person case was being played out. This led Caleb’s mind to wander back to the moment Venus acted like a monster, the way her eyes looked through him, it was as if he was seeing primal nature up close.

“Why are you a cannibal?” He asks in a serious tone “Is it like a curse?, a condition?, Does…does Blaine make you do it?” He finished his tea looking at his empty mug.

“It's in my nature I guess, my daddy is Killer Croc. He's done it plenty of times and I guess it felt natural after a lil while but I guess that doesn't truly explain why…” she trails off pinning Caleb against the couch.

“I'm a predator in nature. I just come in a pretty little package so the food comes right to me. It's how I stay on top Caleb, it's how I remain in control.”

“A lady doesn't chase, she is chased. Why would I hunt if I can just invite my food to dinner?” She giggles, baring her teeth, eyes boring into him.

“Y-yeah I know. Like killing them I can understand that but eating their organs like they’re a plate of chicken souvlaki that's a bit much dontcha think?”

She hissed, her claws digging into his shoulder as she shook him roughly. ”He targeted me, Caleb. While we were walking minding our own business in this godforsaken part of town, he saw two unsupervised children but he chose me as the cute,sexy teenage girl who wears tight skirts and off the shoulder tops. I was asking for it, wasn't I?” she says mockingly.

He rapidly shakes his head as his eyes darted about, looking for a way to escape with all his organs intact. Sweat dripped from his forehead from the tension.

Caleb could see the tears threatening to escape her eyes as she continues Her voice was snarling and ragged. “ I gave him what he wanted. I let him feel like he was in control. I let him drag me away so we could be alone. And when I was done playing his game. I. ATE. HIM. UP.”

“I do it because I crave it.” She continues her face twisting into vicious grins, her claws digging into his shoulder as she presses herself against him,” I do it because I can. It fulfills me in ways you can't imagine." Venus erupted into hysterical laughter, her eyes gleaming with sadistic fervor as she leaned closer, her breath ghosting against his face.

“It makes me happy, watching them beg, seeing them cry,hearing their final breath escape their lips…” her voice trails as her laughter ends. Venus sat up staring back down coldly. Unlatching his shoulder and grabbing him by the face, forcing him to look up at her.

He could feel the pain from the mark that Venus gave him as he looked at her, his heart beating loudly as he kept his hands on his side.

“Blaine gave you to me because he knows I can make you live up to your name. You want to be big and bad and I can make you into the man you pretend to be.”

He didn’t know what he should say… he didn’t know what he could say. But he knew that he wanted to show them, show everyone that he can be an infamous villain without any flashy superpowers.

“So… when do we start, boss?” he asks grinning darkly as he fully embraces the idea of venus as his superior.

“First of all is Boss Lady, and second I have plans on doing big things in this town. But I need a front man to do so.” She purred stroking his cheek.

He felt himself blushing from the attention, leaning more to her touch.

“I need a big strong boy like you to be my handsome lil meat shield so nobody fucks with my plans or sends me to jail.” She giggles.

"And in return you'll get bailed out and get all the guts and glory and get the main street cred while I reap the benefits of the seeds I sow. I just need you to do everything I say and never question my authority.” She grins, kissing his cheek.

Her words were like milk and honey as he melts into her embrace, as the rainstorm washed away the old filth something new and dark was blooming in the wake.

[acourtofthought]

I've seen it going around that the lands of Illyria are Koschei's ultimate goal but if that were true, how would Elain and Lucien close out the series?

In SF, we learn Briallyn fixed the Rite so that she could force Nesta to wear down her powers:

Briallyn had willed him that way. Had moved people around like chess pieces to ensure that Nesta arrived here. "Why?" Nesta said.

Briallyn's thick fur cloak ruffled in the mountain wind. "Your power is too strong - throwing you into this primitive spectacle wore you down."

Briallyn said her original plot was only to grab Emerie to lure Nesta out after receiving information from Bellius on how they were friends but because Nesta was at her house it made it easy for Briallyn to grab them all and that Gwyn was an amusing bonus.

The Rite wasn't Briallyn's goal for reasons related to the stone at the top of Ramiel, it was to wear Nesta's power down to get the Trove from her. And she had to wait until the end of the Rite because she needed Cassian to show up, something she specifically tells us. She didn't care about Nesta or her friends reaching the top of Ramiel:

Nesta cut in, demanding, "I was worn down days ago. Why hold off until now?"

Briallyn glowered at the interruption. "I was waiting for him." She nodded toward Cassian who was bristling with rage - something like loathing and fear now pushing through the cloudiness in his eyes. "Days and days, I waited for him to get close enough for me to use the crown to ensnare him."

Bellius and Briallyn are now dead, the two people most involved in carrying out this plot.

Koschei was as well but his only interest seemed to be helping Briallyn in order to gain access to the trove.

"What Vassa suspected is true. The death-lord Koschei has been whispering in Briallyn's ear. He remains trapped at his lake but his words carry on the wind to her. / He pointed Briallyn toward the Dread Trove - not for her sake, but for his own ends. He wishes to use it to free himself from his lake."

Then later:

"You can take him now, Briallyn. You have plenty of time before dawn."

Koschei said, "Tell my Vassa I'm waiting."

Briallyn planned on taking Nesta as soon as her powers were weakened and once she had Cassian in her hands to obtain the Trove regardless of when during the Rite those things lined up. Anything else to do with the Rite or the Illyrians was irrelevant.

We know for a fact that Elain could technically wield the Trove. I don't think she will but as Nesta is made, Elain is too.

We know that Lucien may have a connection to the Trove considering the reaction Helion had to the mask.

Trying to tie Koschei into Illyria just so it fits a Gwynriel book being next doesn't make sense to me considering we already know his motive. Why are we now adding a brand new reason for his wanting to free himself? He wants the Trove to become the master of their world and to free himself from the lake.

Also, trying to turn Illyria into Koschei's ultimate end-goal doesn't make any sense while then claiming Elain and Lucien will end the series because Elain and Lucien have nothing to do with Illyria.

Koschei took Vassa for a reason and plans on calling her back soon. The plot lends itself to us learning exactly what that reason is and what is about to happen now that she's going to be called back.

Elain had a vision of the box Koschei keeps hidden and we need Elain to discover where the box is.

Koschei wants to gain access to the trove and we know made creatures are the ones can use these items. While it is keyed to Nesta's blood, it's clear that others who are made can use it once it's in their hands as both Bryce and Hunt did.

It's more likely that Koschei would plot for someone to take Nesta's blood in order to call the Trove items to him so he could free himself from the lake but at that point, the only people who could truly stop him would be those who are Made (so Elain or maybe Lucien depending on what connection he has, at least those are the two from the main lineup).

And the pairing who has the strongest backstory giving reasons to visit the lake is Elucien. To save Vassa, to understand why SJM wrote it so Elain's father had been there with Lucien. To stop Beron who is trying to ally with him.

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

you're toxic, i'm slippin' under with a taste of a poison paradise

...

(i always jokingly call their ship 'my chemical romance', mostly bc of the fact that crane is awfully good at chemistry, among the other things. n' i do dearly love this aspect of their relationships. gotta adore how it's literally 'toxic' love, bc the fear toxin is a thing, n' they both end up sniffing it, every time they met. so it's less of poetic language here. it's just that they end up inhaling fumes n' havin' a bad trip. plain as day.

anyho', these arts are circling around the idea of what if at one point, crane dosed both of them on purpose. n' what if he did it as the scarecrow. or more so, when he was in mindset of the scarecrow.

btas crane n' old comic ones are usually depicted as sadists, who ironically are afraid of pain themselves. as jonathan is the sort of man, who is afraid to suffer / be hit / be picked on, bc it was his whole life. he knows how it feels n' he's dreading it. n' while it's cute, i was wondering about more crazy n' drastic measures, that crane might take, even if he knows that it would hurt him, but at same time, would grant him smth that he wants very-very badly. in this context, some 'discomfort' should be fine. n' i believe, that if he's 'out of it' or desperate enough, he might do it.

in this context, him using ft for smth dare i say kinky, isn't out of question. i often think' that crane might view his ft as a connecting link between himself n' batman. even if he doesn't know who batman is, the difference between them is evident. starting from the looks n' ending up with their personalities. but when batman is afraid, it's like jonathan bringing bruce to his level, isn't it? at that moment, they're the same. crane dosing them both is almost a power move. kind of harmful, bc crane cannot quickly overcome his own toxin like batman does. but still, it would take batman aback. give jonathan those 10 seconds of being the 'big bad' man in the room. but that's just a cherry on top. the main point of this is that jon can get away with smth, like a kiss or smth more, bc it would all be lost in horror soon enough. with this nearly an ultimatum in mind, he can waste those few moments *where he still udnerstands what's real n' what's not* to be bold.

i feel like btas crane will be a tad more modest about it still vs his more unhinged comic counterpart. but batman would be caught off guard, either way! i generally do enjoy the situations, where bruce is ruffled n' taken for a ride from time to time. he's very serious n' very prepared, n' all that, but it's fun to let jon score a win. even if it's small, it still would plague batman for days. his enemy dosed both of them, crawled into his laps, kissed him n' then just.....refused to explain himself. n' while it would be puzzling from bruce's pov. i love how it would have been the fear-included kiss for both of them, but jon would have been afraid of it *touching lips with him* even without ft, so this what makes it painfully appealing to me.

i stan by a hc that pleasure is generaly very hard concept for crane. n' he doesn't fully know what to do with it. or how to proceed. any fantasy, where things just nice n' not complicated feels untrue to him. he can't do what harley did n' just smooch the bat. he's not a pretty gal or even someone, who has any skills in that area. more so, the mere idea about how the bat might be willing to do smth with him, outside of being low-key cornered into it or lured into, is beoynd him. which is pretty sad, but it just feels kinda....like, well, jon, haha. i can't picture him as someone, who can overlook his self-hatred n' disgust this easily. but causing smth, when controled by fear n' despair for having that one thing he's pinning for, now this would sound realistic to him.

as for bruce, he can take his revenge by simply kissing crane back. n' also explain nothing. i imagine, that when it happens, crane's brain will freeze. it's like an instant defeat.)

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

Under The Same Sky

@summer-of-bad-batch week 9 alt prompt 'Stargazing'

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Clone Trooper Veetch, Original Clone Trooper Characters Helix & Dene Set on Barton IV with Mayday's squad, as featured in my fanfic Welcome to the Outpost Word Count: ~670 Read Here on AO3

Synopsis: Barton IV may be austere, but there is still beauty to be found.

“Keep up, Veetch,” muttered Helix, “before you freeze to death.”

“’M not that far behind,” came the protest over the com.

The snow muffled the sound of Veetch’s footsteps as he jogged to catch up with where Helix and Dene trudged through the icy, midnight wasteland.

“Did you see it too?”

“See what?” asked Dene gruffly, immediately alert. The perimeter sensors were down, so they were forced to patrol despite the sub-zero temperatures and the dark, wary of attacks from the local raiders who had started targeting what was meant to be their quiet, remote outpost.

“The sky!”

Dene snorted. “What about the sky?” he muttered, glancing up cautiously.

Veetch had caught up with them now and slung an excited arm around Dene’s neck, pulling him to a halt, turning him back to face along the valley.

“Isn’t it amazing?”

Helix turned too, and the three troopers merely stood in the snow, gazing up at the sliver of sky lit bright with the stardust-glow of the galaxy. A million million points of light winked and twinkled in the firmament, a plethora of diamonds strewn against the velvet cloth of night.

“One of those is Kamino,” said Veetch, his voice soft and reverent in the darkness. “Do you think we’ll ever see it again?”

Helix clapped a hand to the top of his bucket, rubbing it fondly just like he’d ruffle the younger trooper’s hair if they were back at the depot. “Not likely,” he said, tone grim. “Krake heard from a brother in the fleet that they’re shutting down the cloning facilities. No need for more of us now the war is over.”

“Helix,” admonished Dene, cuffing his squadmate without any real force behind it. “Don’t spoil it for the kid.” He too mirrored Hexx’s gesture towards Veetch’s helmet, a brief moment of connection where Veetch still stood with his arm around his shoulders. “’Course you’ll see Kamino again, lad. Providing the Empire hasn’t forgotten that they left us out here on this freezing rock.”

Veetch was still craning his neck up, too awestruck to be perturbed by the others’ dour comments. “My batchmates will be out there somewhere too,” he said with quiet reverence. “I hope their postings are more exciting than mine.”

Dene snorted. “Trust me, lad, you want as little excitement as we can get.”

“Raiders is more than we bargained for,” agreed Helix. “Thought this was going to be a routine guard duty. Didn’t realise we’d actually have to defend the cargo.”

“Would love to know what they’re storing in those crates,” said Dene darkly. “And why it needs such cold temperatures. Sure they coulda posted us somewhere warmer.”

“Saving on the cost of running refrigeration units,” sniggered Helix, turning away from the star-strewn sky. “C’mon. Let’s get moving before we freeze in place.”

Dene turned too, Veetch’s arm slipping from his shoulders as he trudged after Helix. After a moment, he turned and glanced back over his shoulder.

“You coming, Veetch?”

With wistful sigh, Veetch offered a silent salute to his brothers scattered among the stars. Then he gripped his blaster again, turning to the patrol route once more.

“I’m coming,” he reassured them, falling into step between the other two.

“Night patrols in these temperatures are a joke,” grumbled Dene as they walked. “They’d better send Ferox the parts he needs to fix the sensor fault soon.”

“Relief ship will be here any day now,” Helix said with a smile they could hear in his voice. “We’ll have fresh food, maybe they’ll even send some games. Only so many times we can ambush Veetch here with snowballs before it gets boring.”

“Heyy!” protested Veetch as the other two laughed, but the teasing was good-natured. The Barton IV assignment was a miserable one, always cold, intensely lonely. The twelve troopers here had bonded quickly, regardless of the circumstances that had brought them here. “Come on,” said Dene with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. “First one back to base gets to sleep closest to the heater.”

Tags by request for @royallykt :) <3

[moremysteriesthantragedies]

To Sully a Wedding Dress

Masterlist | Next

Trigger Warnings for unreality/dream logic, violent imagery, blood/gore, symbolism connecting to rape/physical abuse, twisted womanhood, and internalized guilt around sensuality.

When Florence opened his eyes, he was greeted by nothing but dark. All around there was just darkness, unable to see the walls of the room, making it look endless.

Florence could feel his own body, in a loose sense, shivering from the chill circulating the spot in which he was standing. There was an underground ambience, similar to that of a basement, rumbling in his ears, making the sound of his own breathing sound quiet in comparison. He could hear it become a fog in the air, arms squeezing tightly around himself. 

Except, until there was the sudden flickering of a light, hanging right above Florence. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the sudden shift, making everything a dizzying blur for a moment or two, maybe more. The light took a while to turn on fully, flicking with sparks, before finally lighting. It had a weak, fluorescent white glow. 

In an instant, the hum went silent, and the room returned to a normal temperature. Florence’s ears were filled with the sound of his own breathing, irregular, quiet. His arms, pale and begging for sun, slowly fell down to his sides as he looked around.

Looking around, the light had barely made a dent in the dark, simply adding a gentle, light gray glow to the area around it. Though, it had at least made Florence confident that nothing was in here, batting the oddly elegant chain it was hanging from so it would swing around. Florence followed its glow, seeing nothing but black with the hint of a few grey objects here and there. 

Am I in…a storage closet? Florence wondered, thinking that was the only explanation for the seemingly random and wide range of objects present. Dressers, a bedframe, crates, and a few objects hung up on the wall, such as a mask and hat that kept giving Florence the chills. 

Florence’s eyes stopped, slowly creeping back to that object he’d seen in the dark. The mask, as still as stone, a fedora hung just above, which Florence assumed had covered its eyes as it stared out at him with only its lips and a nose. Except, the fedora wasn’t pushed forward enough, indicating that perhaps it had been a mannequin instead. 

Florence took a step forward, feeling something tickle along his ankles as he did so. His shoes made an unfamiliar, sharp click along the nondescript floor. The figure became more clear to him the closer he came, having too much muscle and mass to be a mannequin, feeling as if they towered over him despite only being 5 inches taller.

In front of him stood a man, around 6 feet tall with combed back, dark hair, a sharp nose, and uncomfortably attractive, well-kept bowtie lips. He dressed professionally, matching his mostly unmoving features. Florence wasn’t even certain if he could see him, wasn’t certain if he was alive in any capacity. Florence’s calloused though delicate hands rose, reaching for the man’s shoulders before pulling them back. Band-aids were wrapped around a few of Florence’s fingers, though he couldn’t remember anything up until this point.

The life-like doll looked just like…wait, was it just Florence’s imagination or had his head just moved? It did it again!

The doll’s head had shifted slowly down, implying an eyeline Florence could not see, hat overshadowing the top of his face. Florence followed where his head had tilted, looking down at himself for the first time since he had awoken. 

He had been placed in a white dress, perfectly feminine and modest, with all those cute frills and accenting bows. It had three layers of frills, the top, the middle, and bottom, with ruffled sleeves going all the way across his elbows. The design was far too elaborate to just be a dress for a casual affair, skirt billowing around his legs, and… 

...why were there…

...accents of…

...red?

Following the crimson seeping through the unprotected fabric, he recognized the dress in an instant. The holes on its sides made it unmistakable, carrying the liquid to lower heights. His Mary Jane shoes served as their final resting place, and, he could feel long hair still pulled into a fresh bun. His stomach metaphorically ripped itself out before being replaced in a reverted state.

Florence started rushing back, flailing in circles as he screamed like a banshee. His fingernails scraped along the smooth fabric, attempting to rip it off, or just rip it in general. 

"No, no, no. Get it off. GET IT OFF ME! No!"

Florence kept repeating this over and over again, wrestling with a skirt that would not undo itself from the whole. It became redder and redder by the minute, waist twinging as more blood fell down his legs. It was a miracle he didn’t trip over himself from the ferocity of his actions, limbs going every which way.

Florence was so preoccupied with this that he didn’t notice when the “doll” stepped out of his display area, standing beneath the light that Florence had wandered from. 

"Florence," A familiar, authoritative voice called and Florence froze.

Florence’s grip remained on his dress, eyes widening at the once dead, now alive man standing just in front of him. 

Listening to it, the voice was more static filled, and he was much grayer looking than Florence had remembered. He remained still, not breathing and yet, the life was evident in his face.

Florence could feel his own breathing slow, pupils dilating. 

"Why don't you just relax? After all, there's nothing to be upset about, is there," the man asked, voice coming out like rain. 

His mouth moved to speak and yet the words felt disconnected from the motion. They were always too slow, or too loud to fit into those subtle movements. 

Florence had calmed down enough to remember where his pocket knife would be stored, grabbing it out from the strap of his stocking and pointing it toward the mysterious stranger.

"That remains to be seen. Just what exactly are you? I know you're not Max. You might look like him but he...he's not like this!" he said, causing the man to laugh.

Yet, his laughs were humorless, lips refusing to move more than what was required for a light smirk or a smile.

"I've never seen you this angry before. You don't sound very certain either."

The man began to walk over, the collar of his pea coat waving behind him and making him blend in with the murky scenery. 

Florence put his hand up, about to tell the man to stop but...wait, what was he going to say? It was on the tip of his tongue yet, no matter how hard he tried to find the words, his mouth wouldn’t budge, just gapping. The only thing that filled his head was static. Quiet, crackling, soothing.

The man approached Florence, taking Florence’s hand and giving it a tender kiss before kneeling down in front of him. He smiled up at Florence who was just stuck staring into that eyeless void.

Florence’s heart began to pound once more when the man casually lifted up his skirt. However, Florence soon realized why as the man examined the scratch marks on his sides. And, also, that he’d worn pants underneath, though the man had to lower them some to see.

“Let me help you, dear,” he said, and Florence’s breathing slowed even more, sniffling.

“Okay.”

His eyes widened, unsure where that response came from when his head felt so fuzzy. His confusion only increased when the man attended to his wounds. 

The man’s touch felt...like silk. Translucent, soft silk, blowing gently in the wind and causing his canvas of skin to be cooled. But it wasn't an unpleasant coldness, warming up from Florence's own, balmy skin that’d become heated in his panic. 

It was as if this man, this thing was truly nothing more than a suggestable piece of fabric. The cloth would wrap around your body, so easily and so harmlessly moving with your joints. An outfit couldn’t hurt, so why not try it on, letting it squeeze tighter, and tighter, and tighter until all circulation was cut off? But, it was so soft, so smooth, that the closeness would feel like a blessing in disguise.

Florence's body froze at the sudden visuals and thoughts, only now realizing they had overcome him. As his vision cleared, he looked back at the man with a flutter of anxiety rising in his chest. The man hadn’t done anything, having successfully cleaned up the blood, and finishing up by applying bandages onto the cleaned cuts. But still. 

As the sensations came back to Florence's body, he realized his hands had gripped onto the man's shoulders, quickly pulling away. This was an action he soon regretted as he realized the squeeze had helped with the pain.

The man’s face or, what Florence could see of it, hadn't reacted to the touch. Florence slowly returned his hands when it seemed the man wouldn't notice. The band-aids showed some resistance against his coat, though they remained in place.

"You're being so brave," the man mused, in spite of Florence's actions.

Yet, even so, Florence supposed he had no reason to worry. The man had not moved to hurt him in all this time, and Florence's wounds were about to be mended, doing his best to ignore the sting. If the man had really wanted to do something, he would have struck when Florence was at his most vulnerable, most likely not even letting Florence know of his presence beforehand. Unless…he was enough of a sadist to…no. 

He shouldn’t think about those things right now. He was being fixed, that’s all that mattered. He couldn’t let the pain drive him crazy, fighting back the urge to grab onto his sides at their constant,  sharp pang. 

He stuck his head up, putting on a brave face and, eventually, it worked.

Once the man was finished, he returned Florence’s skirt to its place around his ankles, doing so carefully to make sure no parts of it remained hitched. Once it was all comfortably draped down, bloodstain remaining and bright against the milky palette, the man pulled away with a smile.

"Does it...still hurt," he asked, not pausing out of hesitation but in an unnervingly relaxed manner.

His voice made Florence feel that fuzziness again. Or, had the blood just had more of an effect on him than he initially thought?

"A-a little."

Florence, now with all his senses soon returning, slowly processed what had just happened. Then, his eyes took in the figure, a shadow all along the top of his face, remaining as peaceful as a windless night. Florence stumbled back. The sound of his steps weren’t as sharp as they once were, soaked beneath him. 

"It's quite alright, dear. You don't have to be afraid. That dress can't hurt you. After all, it's such a comfortable, soft fabric. Is it not?"

Florence gripped onto his skirt, only to find that the fabric had somehow become less coarse underneath his fingers. His eyes narrowed in understanding, muscles tensing.

"S-stop that!" Florence said, continuing to step back and the man made no attempts to follow him.

He just stood there with that smile of his, hands folding behind his back.

“I am merely stating the truth. You feel safe in that dress. You’re so wrapped up in all of its comfortable coils, covering you entirely as if it were a blanket. It’s kept you safe all this time, it even went so far as to be injured for your sake. So, what reason do you have to fear it?”

The man hugged onto himself as if to mime the sensation, hands making a graceful arc as his fingers thinly slid along his sleeves. 

Florence slowly came to a halt, arms wrapping around himself, and fingers beginning to play with the sleeves of his dress. It felt as if it was hugging his body more in a sort of warm embrace. The man took a gradual step forward. 

“It's a shame, isn't it? To sully a wedding dress, especially on purpose. I wonder what that says about your marriage to such a person?”

A couple more steps. 

"Tell me, do you still dream of marriage, Florence? Of your special day, with someone sweet, perhaps? Or, do you only see wedding bells in your nightmares nowadays?"

And a few more.

"I don't know what you're saying," Florence said, tears beginning to prick at his eyes.

Another step and he was right in front of Florence, leaning in to stare into Florence’s face. His eyes remained unseen, but Florence could just feel it. God, he really looked so much like him, the man waiting for Florence to finish inspecting his features before speaking.

"Do you ever dream of marrying me?"

Florence’s cheeks became heated. 

"W-what," Florence stared at him before shaking his head, "Of course not! I mean Max is...he's sweet, and lovely, and I care about him a lot. But I'll never put myself through that again. I know better than that now."

Florence brushed at his tears and the man tilted his head.

"Hmmm, that doesn't sound right, does it? And that again is awfully vague," he said, tapping his chin teasingly, "In truth, you dream about me quite often. Almost every night, when you do dream, that is. We do many things together. Surely it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to propose that one of those things might be a marriage?”

Florence’s hands gripped harder onto his sleeves, falling silent. The man’s smile faintly opened, standing up straight. 

“It's only natural, we see each other every day. And yet, you hide from that, you deny your dreams. All those little desires so wonderfully gift packaged in bottle-sized snippets for you to enjoy."

He tilted his head, smile widening and hand gesturing towards Florence.

"Did you think it'd never catch up to you, dear?" 

In response, Florence had just stared. He’d woken up with a start shortly after.

[bitch-butter]

ok ok ok this isnt like a suggestion or a prompt or anything but like a thought exercise? but anyway--

the five people you meet in heaven, joe liebgott edition. make with this what you will.

this is rough bc truly The Five People You Meet in Heaven was one of my most loathed books I had to read in High School. Which is weird bc objectively I like everything in it and the concept is cool but oof I absolutely hated that book And The Things They Carried (again, should have liked it and Heartily didn't). Also The Great Gatsby, but I grew into really loving that book in my old age lol

BUT this is a good thought experiment, and I'm going to put it in a rivers context bc it's the context I know best. I am of the onion that Lieb d o e s go first (I love that I can Finally acknowledge that Web lives in this verse phew) so Web would Not be one of the Five. The way I'm imagining it is sort of like the book, where some connections are more abstract than others, because it's just true to how life is.

How I see it:

Lieb passes after a long, eventful life. It's peaceful, and it doesn't hurt.

His first level would be his first love, who was a woman named Carmen that he met his first year working for the cab company. She was a year older, was more well-off, and even if they didn't last long and ended badly they learned a lot of those very precious early secrets of life together, including navigating a dynamic that they couldn't necessarily be open about with their families.

The second level I see being someone like Tipper, who saw Lieb at one of the moments where the best of himself was coming through even in a horrible circumstance. Being given friendship, comfort, love in a terrible moment has a profound and lasting effect, and I think being reminded of that is key.

Vonn's wife would be his third. If you've read rivers, Vonn is the old man who runs the barber shop that Lieb comes to work at. My mind palace for him is very detailed, but suffice it to say Vonn's wife died maybe 10 years before Lieb came to the shop, and she had had a lot of concern over how Vonn would manage quality of life, company, and business without her, and she reminds Lieb of the effect he had on ensuring the old man had a place to be, had caring people around him, and felt loved.

In the fourth layer he meets the Young Man from Landsberg who he had interpreted for. Obviously that moment shifted the course of Lieb's life, and throughout the whole rest of it he had thought of that man often, never really knowing what happened to him. He finds that he lived a long, imperfect life filled with the same pain and beauty of every life, and that the fact that he was able to face it at all in spite of the horror he endured was a gift.

The fifth is the Most abstract, and I see it as one of Web's students who Lieb never met. The student was young, questioning, and one day accidentally caught sight of Lieb in Web's office on campus, the easy way that Lieb kissed the top of his head before ruffling his hair. It made the idea of loving the same gender less like an impossibility, made the thought of living authentically and happily, surrounded by others like you, seem somehow attainable.

He's led to Their House, which is their house free of imperfection, in Their City which is also All cities that they've loved together. He waits there, patiently, until one day Web walks through the front door.

[mysticdragon3md3]

✨️ Been thinking about the 3 House Leaders' post timeskip character designs lately, and last night, i just noticed that El & Dimitri both have crosses on their chests.

Dimitri's is the most obvious. And I think we've all always taken it to resemble a scar of intersecting slashes, since Dimitri is likely covered with battle scars and it seems similar to how scars are portrayed in anime. But yesterday, i noticed a small 1 in the center if El's chest, over her heart (chakra).

Are these cross slashes symbolic of their emotional trauma? Is that why they're both on their chests??? There the heart famously is??? And why Dimitri's is more obvious than El's during the post timeskip? El's symbolic scar is almost hidden, while Dimitri's symbolic scar is practically a defining point of his armor. Just like how El represses her suffering, putting on a "resilient" front, while feral Dimitri makes his suffering blatantly clear.

Maybe there's also something to their locations. Dimitri's "scar" is dangerously near his heart, by being on his chest, but it has managed to avoid both the anatomical location of a human heart and the location of the heart chakra. It won't kill him, not physically or spiritually/emotionally. But El's is right in the center. Maybe a physical heart is avoided by being slightly to the left, but her heart chakra, the emotional center, was apparently struck head on. She has symbolically taken a fatal blow, emotionally/spiritually. And that can't be made better by her repression, deluding her into thinking she's strong and fine…all while her overall war strategies are all actions that lash out onto others. Such actions are not the description of someone who is emotionally "doing fine". Maybe this costume detail is saying that emotionally, she's probably worse off than Dimitri. And it's killing her…if not already has.

1:59 AM 7/18/2023 EDIT: omg I just noticed El has these cross slashes on both of her shoulders too. Which, usually wouldn't mean anything. Except for the fact that because her house was the Black Eagles, her costume has incorporated feather-like ruffles on both of her shoulders, to give the effect of her having wings. (She also has these feather-like ruffles on the edges of her cape.) The problem is that if we take the symbolism of these cross slashes as a wound or emotional scar on their characters, then El has these "scars" on both of her "wings". Essentially, her "wings are clipped". What's more, these cross slashes on the tops of her shoulders, are where her feather-like costume elements all connect. If she were hit at this vulnerable connection point, then her "wings" would instantly fall apart. As a symbol of her past trauma and her present/future vulnerability points, these cross slashes on her shoulders seem to imply that she once had her ability to "fly" incapacitated, and now that ability to "fly" is weakened. The emotional/spiritual damage she has taken from her traumatic background, may be smaller than Dimitri's and less numerous than Claude's, but they have managed to hit all her strategic vital points: her heart (chakra) and her "wings". She cannot fly free. Of what? I will refer to BOOFIRE191's video essay "Edelgard Will Always Lose", in which he discussed FE3H's theme of characters' inability to move on from their pasts. Taking a hint from that conclusion, El cannot fly free from her past trauma. And indeed, she acts as someone who cannot move on from her past trauma: She lashes outward towards others with violence, not on a personal level, but she repeatedly chooses to declare war. She is unknowingly mired in her past sufferings, which she has convinced herself that she has already healed from. But instead of having grown past them, she is more likely dwelling into stagnation, more than she knows. Those wounds more strategically damaged and scared the vital points on her soul/psyche than she realized.

🦌

The interesting thing about Claude's post timeskip costume is that he has cross slashes that I didn't even recognize as cross slashes until now. And he has A LOT of them. For the longest time, I took the rounded diamonds with X's on Claude's post timeskip costume design, as maybe a reference to the Takeda clan's crest. That was the only thing that came to my mind. Maybe they were symbols of the Leicester Alliance? But there was nothing on the Leicester banner which had all these rounded diamonds with X's across them. And the Riegan symbol is their crescent moon looking Crest. So I just dismissed those X'ed rounded diamonds as just embellishment.

But now that I'm thinking of these cross slashes on all the House Leaders' post timeskip costume designs as symbols of their emotional or spiritual trauma/scars, I'm inclined to wonder if these X'ed rounded diamonds on Claude's costume qualify as cross slashes. (The official art from FE3H's character design sheets actually have a note pointing directly to these X'ed rounded diamonds on Claude's costume, but I can't find a translation of these notes.) (https://rorvk.tumblr.com/post/186830710067/fire-emblem-three-houses-middle-eastcentral points to the circle on Claude's pauldron being a reference to historical Persian high officers, but only because of the gold circle, without mention of the X'ed rounded diamond.) In contrast, there actually are sharper cross slashes on Claude costume, that have perpendicular 90 degree cross lines from the points of each slash to the opposite points. These are much more like El's and Dimitri's cross slashes. Whereas the X's on Claude's rounded diamonds have their intersection lines at 45 degree angles and connect the midpoints of each diamond's side to the other side. There are only 2 of these actual cross slashes more similar to El's and Dimitri's, on Claude's pauldron. But additionally, he also has the outlines of cross slashes on both his knees and both his elbows, but they have no intersecting lines whatsoever. So Claude has 7 X'ed rounded diamonds, 2 cross slashes, and the outlines for 4 cross slashes. It's a lot.

So the first thing to notice about Claude's X'ed rounded diamonds are that they are not aggressive. Dimitri's cross slash is sharp and pointed. El's cross slashes are smaller than Dimitri's, with shorter points/arms, but still recognizably pointed, aggressive. But Claude has these rounded diamond shapes, and SEVEN of them at that. Now, if I keep running with my theory of cross slashes representing emotional/spiritual wounds in the characters, then it's notable that these 7 X'ed rounded diamonds seem less severe. Maybe Claude didn't have past trauma as severe as Dimitri's Tragedy of Duscur or El being the only survivor of her family used as human test subjects. But he still had A LOT. During Supports, Claude describes often being the target of assassinations, bullying, and being treated badly by most people around him, despite him being a prince. Maybe Claude's traumas were less mortally severe, but they were numerous. And in terms of placement, the rounded diamonds are at his neck, his pauldron, and at the ends of his pauldron's braids. Symbolic wounds at the neck could certainly be taken as representing attempts on his life, given the neck's vital points. But then 5 X'ed rounded diamonds are all on his pauldron. It's notable that Claude's pauldron is his only piece of visible metal armor. As mentioned by smudgedmascarasposts (https://www.tumblr.com/mysticdragon3md3/657754568443248640), thickly padded clothing is a type of armor meant to "catch arrows" and whose light weight would be more advantageous to his wyvern's stamina while carrying him. I don't see Claude's thick quilted clothing and think of armor and warfare, but instead of softness. Claude's costume tells me that he is built more for ruling and diplomacy, but is ready to go to war if needed. I think that's appropriate. But if the majority of his symbolic trauma scars are on his armor, his most ubiquitous element showing readiness to go to war…it might say that the idea of going to war carries a lot of emotional wounds for Claude. Claude is the Lord trying to reach his dream of a world where people solve their differences through diplomacy & negotiation, come to understandings of each other, and avoid war. Going to war, would hurt Claude greatly. As we see in 3Hopes, being forced to kill someone whom he always believed he'd someday be able to try to come to an understanding with, almost broke him, spiritually. He became so unmoored, that the majority of his actions afterwards in 3Hopes, lost their foundation in his original dream. The symbolic wounds in Claude's pauldron could represent the multiple blows he would spiritually take, when forced to go to war. This might align with the 3 X'ed rounded diamonds, on his chest, at the ends of his pauldron's braids. They don't reach his heart chakra, but they are on the correct side of the chest, to hit the human heart. Claude doesn't take a direct spiritual hit, as suggested by these symbolic scars, but the blows do reach dangerously close to his spiritual center/heart.

So perhaps it makes sense that the 2 most recognizable cross slashes on Claude are on his pauldron. These are the 2 symbolic scars on his costume, most like Dimitri's and El's. They are sharp, and they are intersected by their internal lines in the same way: point to point. And these most recognizable cross slashes are IN ADDITION to the 5 other X'ed rounded diamonds on his pauldron. Claude's pauldron, his costume's symbol for going to war, carries an abundance of emotional/spiritual scars for him. This is not a man who is okay going to war.

Then there are the 4 cross slashes on Claude's knees and elbows. These feel defanged, less sharp, less hazardous. All because they don't have those intersecting lines from point to point. So perhaps these symbolic scars don't represent such intensely severe emotional wounds either, just like his more innocuous X'ed rounded diamonds (if those even qualify as cross slashes). But being on his knees and elbows, makes me think that taking blows or wounds there, would immobilize a person. I am reminded of Claude telling Byleth during cutscenes or Supports that all his schemes would amount to nothing without Byleth's help. Being the Lord least prone to war, Claude gives the impression of being less of a warrior than Dimitri and El. (Nevermind that diplomacy, negotiation, and extending compassion instead of striking out at others, is a much more difficult emotional/spiritual battle than physical, melee combat. Also forget the fact that bow/arrow is considered a more advanced technology and a more effective implement of war than lances or axes.) And he is aware of his weaknesses. He realizes that as an individual, he is not as powerful or skilled in combat as Dimitri or El. As a newcomer to Fodlan, still being undermined for leadership even within the Alliance, he doesn't have the reliable support network yet, to preform all the actions he would like to accomplish. Claude is very aware that he is weak and incapable of accomplishing anything by himself. But because he is self aware about this, perhaps that's why these symbolic spiritual wounds, located in areas that would incapacitate a person, seem defanged. Wounds to the knees and elbows would not kill a person, the way that a wound to the heart would. Claude's (spiritual/emotional) life is not endangered by these symbolic wounds. But his ability to take action, accomplish his goals, and influence the world around him would be lost if he took at hit at these symbolic wounds. It seems that now I'm speaking more of these symbolic wounds as targets for the characters' most vulnerable vital points, instead of representations of where they had taken symbolic blows to their spirits, during their traumatic past backgrounds. But a wound made once can become a vulnerability point, even if it heals and scars over. Still, I'm sure that the reason that Claude is so self aware of his helplessness, was because he has experienced trauma which made him feel helpless and incapable before. He even describes it during a Support with Marianne: "Yelling, fighting back, explaining himself…Nothing he did could change his situation." He speaks as though he tried all these things, tried anything he could think of, and it was all ineffectual to change anything about his situation. All his actions were rendered worthless and he was made to feel helpless. Claude carries the wounds of helplessness, both from his traumatic backstory and as a vulnerable point in the present and future. It's fortunate that he realized the solution to individual helplessness is the rely on friends.

[radiodaemon]

For the first time in many years, Lucifer's back was pressed against the wall, a soft groan leaving his vocals as it connected. "Oh ho! Did I hit a nerve?" As he'd hoped.

He wouldn't lie. This was getting exciting. All others simply bowed their heads, doing anything and everything demanded by their king. Convenient, yes, but oh, so boring. But Alastor? He was defiant, honest, and quite entertaining. A refreshing change.

But he would still know his place.

Despite his size, Lucifer was terrifyingly powerful. With a swift lash of his whip-like tail, it wrapped around Alastor's leg, yanking it forward. The king took this moment to shove the demon back onto the floor, where he planted claws on either side of the demon's head, seating himself in the other's lap. He lowered his head, their lips but inches apart.

"You think me weak because I'm small, don't you? Go ahead and try overpowering me, my dear. I welcome you to try..." he purred, leaning up to bring his lips to the demon's fluffy ear.

"Show me what you're capable of, sinner~"

--- shit, shit, SHIT!

Oh, so RARELY does it slip his mind that, while he is feared for the power he possesses and the REPUTATION he has built from it, he is still somewhere in the upper middle part of the food chain... and Lucifer?

Lucifer is at the very top.

With a swiftness even Alastor cannot register, he's seized of his balance and left DEFENSELESS on the castle floor, barely biting back a groan as his back hits the ground and Lucifer takes up residence atop him. He half expected the king to take him out right then and there... to FINISH HIM OFF for such unheard of defiance, yet moments go by and his head is still on his shoulders. How much, he distantly wonders, WOULD it take for Lucifer to dispose of him? How much pushing, how much insubordination? Really, what masochistic FOOL besides Alastor would even CONSIDER playing a game like that?

" Who said I thought you weak? No, no, no, my liege... " Heated breath brushes against a crimson ear, and Alastor internally CURSES himself at the way it, so swiftly, brings a faint, albeit dizzying heat to his own body. If anybody looks weak, in this moment, it's Alastor, much to his own, self caused chagrin, " I do this because I know you are all powerful. Because I like to see what it takes to make you... explode. You are very small, dainty, delicate... "

Beautiful...

" ... but what more is there to our... fair and just king, I wonder? What makes him tick, what gets those sunshine strands ruffled, what makes those pretty eyes darken with ire? Hm? I want to see every single side of you... for reasons you couldn't get out of me now matter how much you play the power card. " A hand dares to raise, slithering its way up Lucifer's body -- tauntingly, teasingly -- against lithe waist and backside, until he can feel and play in those aforementioned sunshine strands. The pieces on the board have shifted... shrouded in shadow, Alastor's own, but unlike MOST of his opponents, he's quite enjoying THIS one, " You haven't killed me yet. Haven't tried. Clearly, I've not pushed ENOUGH buttons yet... "

@the-nexus ;;

[mercury-72]

Chapter two: The boat

Jay

“But its not fair mommy!” I hear Ellie yell at my mom as I make my way out of the bathroom, shaking a towel around my hair to attempt to dry it faster.

I refuse to use a hair dryer those things make your hair super puffy and it makes me look like I have an afro. Fastest way to learn to not let your mom do your hair for homecoming freshman year of high school.

 I toss the towel on my bed giving up for now before grabbing my shirt, pulling it over my head as I make my way into our kitchen where all the noise is coming from.

“Ellie we already talked about this.” Moms stern voice says, I turn the corner to see her pointing at Ellie whose standing up on a stool

“What’s going on?” I make my way over to the stool next to Ellie who seems to cool down once I sit next to her.

 “Oh thank god your finally done Ellies been refusing to eat breakfast without you.” I laugh reaching over to ruffle Ellies hair. She’s finally sat down, looking down at a bowl of coco puffs that are no doubt way to soggy to be edible.

“Where you giving mom a hard time again?” I reach for her old bowl of cereal and go to dump it out, replacing it with a fresh bowl of cereal before pouring a bowl of the same thing for myself.

“Yes and she knows better, I still cant believe she listens to you more then me and your father.” Mom rolls her eyes annoyed but still relieved. She takes her mug of coffee and makes her way out to our living room pulling her phone out as she does. She’s probably going to call dad.

“So what’s so unfair?” I elbow Ellie as I shovel a spoon full of coco puffs into my mouth.

 I look over at Ellie who’s got tears welling up in her eyes and her lips doing the little pouty thing she does when she’s trying not to cry. She hates crying because according to her big girls don’t cry. “Its not fair, I want to go with you”

Oh this again. I see a tear roll down her cheek, as I finish off my cereal. I turn to see if my moms still on the phone, she’s not in the living room anymore so she’s probably gone to their bedroom to talk.

I turn on the stool towards Ellie tilting my head and open my arms to her, she pushes her half eaten bowl away and wipes her cheek before crawling over to me. She sits and buries her head into my chest, tiny fists grabbing my shirt as she cries. I let her get it out of her system, pressing my cheek to the top of her head rubbing circles on her back. This is the fourth time she’s has a full blown crying session since I told her I would be leaving for two weeks.

To say the least, she’s not very happy about it.

 She goes to move her head away, brushing her cheeks again before looking up at me. I look down at her giving her a sad smile, already knowing what she’s going to say.

“Cant I come with you?” Her voice wavers as she asks me the same question she’s asked me a million times within the last week.

“you know if I could take you I would.” I brush the hair out of her face, she looks down like she might cry again. I try to think of something quick because if mom sees her crying again she might actually get mad this time.

Ellie has basically been my shadow since she was born, getting more attached to me then either of our parents. And as much as our parents love our little connection if that’s what you want to call it, they’ve gotten tired of Ellie throwing tantrums almost everyday because I’m leaving and cant take her with me.

 Its not like I’m leaving forever or anything its only two weeks ill be gone. I think she’s just gotten used to my college schedule. I choose a school close enough to home so I can come visit often or they could just come to me.

This may be the longest she’s been away from me so she’s not handling it very well. “I know.” She says, moving to grab her bowl of unfinished cereal and continues to eat it solemnly.

I tilt her chin up to look at me again because I cant leave knowing shell be a wreck and an absolute menace for mom and dad. “Just think if I actually work there then you can come with me all the time after this trip” She immediately brightens, almost spilling her cereal but thankfully she catches it. For a six year old she’s quick.

“Really!” And just like that she’s back to her cheery self, flipped emotions on a dime.

“Yep, and while I’m gone ill facetime you all the time that way you can still see me ok?” Ill just have to tell mom and dad about that part, otherwise they might be confused on why Ellie wants to use their phones twenty-four seven.

 Ellie nods her head vigorously, I laugh thankful I know I've calmed her down and maybe she wont be that much of a wreck while I’m gone. She places her now empty bowl on the kitchen island and hops down off my lap with my help and runs to her room to get changed. I head to my rooms to double check all the things I need are packed, before grabbing shoes.

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thankfully Ellie didn’t really cry that much when they saw me off at the airport. This internship is bound to be interesting no doubt and Mr.sato is amazing.

Well obviously he’s amazing but I’m giving him bonus points since he’s paying for all the interns flights. Though there’s only six of us so I doubt he’s breaking the bank much by giving us a hand with transport. We have a flight to costa Rica and then from there we have to board a boat that will take the rest us the rest of the way to the island.

 Now I’m not really sure why there’s a need for two separate ways of transport. Maybe the islands flight lanes or whatever those things are called aren’t finished being built. I do know that much about the island at least. Well not about the whole aircraft thing landing thing, I mean the whole island is still under construction.

 Maybe the boat ride is just meant to be part of the experience, he may be trying to just make sure we have a good time. I read in a interview with Mr.sato that he loves kids even though he doesn’t have any of his own.

I guess that’s good for me and the rest of the interns though. Maybe he’ll spoil us like he would his own kids. Wouldn’t that be cool.

I got off my plane about 20 minutes ago and have been in the backseat of a cab daydreaming this whole time that I didn’t even notice I’m almost at the docks.

Mr.sato put a lot of thought into this whole thing. I mean there was somebody already waiting for me after I got off my flight, a cab waiting for me outside.

Its not really a cab I guess, I shouldn’t call it that. It’s the person who was waiting for me when I got off the plane, in a black button up shirt, wearing a black hat both with matching emblems. Mr.sato’s emblem that was on the acceptance letter I got as well. I’m assuming the rest of the interns are or already have had the same experience as me right now.

The car comes to a stop at a dock and the lady who drove me here turns to me with a smile on her face. She sends me a wink before saying “Were here buddy”

I’m pretty positive she’s older then me but then again I cant completely tell. If she is older then me it cant be by much maybe she’s in her twenties.

 Clearing my throat before I talk, its been super awkward since I got off the plane, she’s the same one who meet me as I got off and helped me with my bags and everything. Obviously she works for Mr.sato but I guess that’s not gonna keep her from trying to flirt.

I thank her as I get out of the car grabbing my bags as she pulls the car up to three identical looking ones. She gets out and heads for the boat walking, well at that rate she’s speed walking her way onto it.

I don’t think she’s very happy that I didn’t flirt back. Man now ive upset two girls within the last what 24 no its probably been 48 hours by now.

I sigh but cheer up as soon as I take a good look at the boat, well its more of a ferry from the looks of it. Its got blue swashes all over it and in the middle of the ferry facing me is the big emblem again. I smile again, I’m way to excited about this, but how can you really be certain how excited someone should be about this.

 I’m imagining the excitement of a kid In a candy store or Ellie getting the thing she really wanted for Christmas.

 Finally making my way to the ferry after gawking at it for god knows how long I see a girl up ahead of me standing on the wooden part of the docks leading right up to the ramp. From the looks of it she’s death gripping her suit case, if she grips that thing any harder she might break the handle.

I make my way over to her, my own suit case trailing behind me. I hear her mummer something about horrible transportation and I can only assume she’s talking about the ferry. “You know some people actually enjoy boat rides.” I say standing next to her looking directly at the fairy.

She jumps making a surprised sound and drops the death grip on her suit case bringing both of her hands up to her chest. I finally turn to look at her and suck in a breath, a little shocked.

Damn I wasn’t expecting someone like her to be interning with me. Though I’m not really sure what I was expecting the rest of the interns to be like.

She’s way prettier then the lady who was trying to flirt with me in the car. Now if this girl was flirting with me instead I probably would have lost my shit.

I realize ive been staring at her but how can you not, look at her. She’s got long straight black hair that goes down to probably her mid back with bangs and these gorgeous blue eyes. Ive never seen anything so bright? They are such a bright blue and dang her eye lashes are long. I almost feel jealous.

I get way to nervous way to fast and can feel all the blood rush to my cheeks and I hope she doesn’t notice it. Instead I realize I haven’t introduced myself at all, ive just made a weird statement and stared at her and now she probably thinks I’m a creep.

“Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to sneak up on you or anything you where just kinda standing here and looked nervous or scared and I just got here so I thought I would at least try and talk to another intern, at least I think your intern, anyway my names Jay Seaver”

Oh my god way to go Jay, way to play it cool. I stick my hand out to her in greeting and she kinda just stares at me for a moment. I almost don’t feel so bad for staring at her if it means shell look at me like that every time in return.

 I go to put my hand down thinking ‘who shakes hands anymore’ when I feel her hand in mine, doing a gentle shake. Never mind. She does.

“Its ok, um I just got here a couple minutes ago too and I am nervous but its nice to meet you Jay I’m Ellery Mitchell I’m an intern as well as you are” I don’t think I can handle this, my brain is in over load. I don’t really react this way with girls, the last time I acted so…smitten? Is that even the right term?

The las time I was this taken by a girl was when I meet Emma stone who I thought was actually Gwen Stacy. I had a huge crush on her and watched only the mazing spider man for like a whole year.

Focus Jay your in the middle of a conversation here.

 She said she is nervous, she was death gripping her suit case so yeah nervous. What’s she nervous about? Water? The ferry? 

“Well hey if your nervous about getting on the boat we can board together” Oh thank god I had a coherent thought and didn’t say something stupid or ramble again.

“Really, that’s so nice thank you” She smiles at me and nods her head looking a tiny bit less nervous.

 “Yea of course cant leave a pretty girl all by herself you know” I just told her I think she’s pretty, this cannot get any worse. Though I think she’s blushing. Yes, she’s definitely smiling at least. Ok at least I haven’t messed up or anything. “Thank you” She says it so quietly I almost miss it.

God I cant stop smiling, this is going to be a great two weeks.

Without even noticing ive grabbed both mine and her suitcase and made my way over towards the ramp leading up onto the ferry. I turn to make sure she’s actually following me up and I didn’t just leave her behind. And yep she’s right behind me.

We make our way up the ramp and finally set foot on the ferry, it rocks a little against the waves coming up to the shore from out in the ocean. Based on that we’ll probably need to set off soon.

The Ferry sways a little again and I feel a hand press against my back, I look back to see Ellery, one hand brought up to her month where she’s chewing on her finger nail and the other hand is up against my back.

 I really want to turn and grab her hand but I don’t, I wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable, plus we barely know each other. It does boost my ego though that she used me for stabilization.

 I move our stuff inside the ferry where there is thankfully air conditioning. It may be winter break and cold in most places but costa Rica is still pretty warm, and humid. So the air conditioning is nice. I hear Ellery sigh in relief and her shoulders finally drop and she finally seems more relaxed.

The ferry is very luxurious, I don’t feel like I belong but looking around at the people besides the staff it seems like we were the last interns to board. And man none of us look like we belong here. Its all white and pristine and smells like coconuts in here. The majority of this main floor is filled with seating but off to my left there’s a stair case leading to the higher deck. On the wall to the right of the stair case looks to be a bar. At least that’s what it seems like, it’s a curved counter with stools fixed to the ferry. No ones sitting over there so I decide to take advantage of the free seating and move me and Ellery’s suitcases over there.

She follows right behind me as I shove our suitcases against the wall of the counter and hop up onto one of the stools. Ellery follows suit. Climbing up into the stool next to mine. I’m glad she’s decided to stick with me instead of moving off to sit with someone else or alone.

I spin in the stool to face the rest of the main floor, its very open and I cant imagine what this thing will look like once the island is finally open for business. This thing is going to be packed with people. But for now its just workers moving about probably getting ready to set off and four other interns I’m assuming scattered around.

Scattered isn’t a right word for our rage tag group. You’ve got me and Ellery sat at the counter closest to the front of the ferry. Two girls sat at a circle table for two a little further away giggling and then two other guys, one who is literally the embodiment of a surfer dude out on the front deck and another dude with extremely dark curly hair sat on his phone on a love seat.

A great start to things really.

There’s some noises outside of the ferry as I see a couple men removing the ramp and closing off the ferry from the docks. Then other people rushing around, followed by the sound of heels clicking. Then from the stair case a women in a nice green business suit and white high heels comes down. A bright smile on her face as she looks at the six of us before moving to look at the clipboard she’s holding. Gosh I feel like I’m back in high school.

She clears her throat to get the others attention and once everyone is inside and looking at her she smiles once again. “Well hello to all of you, how was the plane ride for you guys hopefully it wasn’t to bad and you at least got to sleep” She says.

“Man I wish I was stuck next to this lady and her baby who cried for almost the entire ride” The kid with the curly hair says, leaning forward. “Oh gosh I’m so sorry that must have been such a pain, if you’d like you can nap on the ferry ride to the island”

“Thanks but I’m not gonna miss a thing even if I’m just staring at ocean for a couple hours.” We all chuckle as the lady once again looks at her clipboard then back to us. “Ok I totally forgot Hello guys my name is Ms. Jessica and I’m Mr.sato’s assistant, I just need to double check that you are all here before we leave” We all nod our heads in understanding and she nods to herself then looks at the clipboard then points to the curly headed kid. “You are Michael Danvers.” The curly headed kid, Michael, nods his head giving her two thumbs up.

 Marking something on her board she then points to one of the girls sitting at the circle table “You are Madylyn Carter” One of the girls at the table, one with crazy ginger colored hair looks up “Yes ma’am” another tick on the board. “Kelly Tate” Ms. Jessica points to the girl sitting across from the red head, the other girl is BLONDE. Like really blonde, I think at that point its called platinum blonde.

 The guy who was standing outside is next, Ms. Jessica points at him “Your Jake Smith I know that one for sure” She doesn’t exactly say it like it’s a good thing she already knows who he is.

But Ms. Jessica is already smiling once again as she lowers her clip board a little gesturing to me and Ellery. “That means you are Jay Seaver and Ellery Mitchell” Me and Ellery nod and Ms. Jessica does a fist bump into the air.

“Yes! So glad I got all of your names down already.” She says lowering the clip board back down to her side. A man comes down from the stair case to quietly say something to her that the rest of us strain to hear.

Ms. Jessica nods and the guy walks back up the stairs “Alrighty are you guys ready to set sail?”

so thats chapter two :)