#look i agree her character can be absolute trash

[dead-salmon]

thinking ob lb2 again and i'm still so sad that it was messed up so badly when the initial themes were really great

like skadis & odin's (which skadis 2nd interlude elaborates on) selfish love, wanting the world and beings they love to continue living even if it's a cruel existence for them. the way you can compare it to surtrs selfish feelings he has for ophelia, or the love sigurd and brynhild have for one another

skadi & ortlinde being unable to understand their loved ones decisions until it's practically too late. the inability of ophelia, skadi and ortlinde to actually take action until it's much too late. napoleon serving as a symbol of hope in that regard, the rainbow finally spurring ophelia into action.

the from lostbalt manga scene of ophelia admitting that she truly had different wishes in life than where she ended up, apologising for not doing better. skadi grieving over this, over ophelia, as a mother who is in the exact same spot of being unable to leave the duty that was placed on her.

lb2 had potential man, skadi's character has so much potential. it just pisses me off that both the game and fandom reduce her to moe scathach when there's so much that could've been done with her character

[emdotcom]

*remembers what they did to Vanny* 500 FUCKING PIPEBOMB ATTACK.

[hederasgarden]

Stand By Me - Part 3

Summary: When a local ranch hand’s attention evolves into something more sinister, Rhett Abbott becomes an unlikely source of comfort and protection for you. Pairing: Rhett Abbott x F!Reader Word Count: 4.8K Rating: Mature, future chapters will be explicit and 18+ only. Stalking, anxiety, and Rhett being protective. Future chapters will include some violence. No spoilers for Outer Range. A/N: Welp, here we are a year later. 😬 Sorry it has taken me so long to update. I cannot thank my beta N, @mayhem24-7forever and @whatblogisthis216 enough for their help and support putting this together. Thank you @callsignhurricane for the absolutely gorgeous header.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this story. Your interactions keep me writing and inspired.

Masterlist | Lewis Pullman Characters Masterlist

"I see you're in with the Abbotts now," your boss remarks, watching Rhett climb into his truck. "Got a phone call from Cecilia this morning about you not closing up by yourself anymore. That woman has a real way about her, all polite-like when she's handing you your ass." 

“Mr. Anderson,” you start, rushing to explain but he waves you off. 

“She was right, of course. I know you got that, er- fella who hangs around too much.”

“My stalker?” You question, your tone harsher than you intend. He looks down at you, surprised. There’s an apology on the tip of your tongue but you resist, meeting his brown eyes. Maybe it’s knowing you had Rhett and Cecilia on your side, or maybe some leftover frustration from the Sheriff. Either way, you don't back down from your statement. 

“I suppose he could be,” Mr. Anderson agrees. “Anyhow, I’ve got Johnny set to close from now on. You go on and tell that to Cecilia now. One dressing down from that woman is enough.”

“I’ll let her know.” 

He nods, patting your shoulder briefly before disappearing into the back office. You exhale and look back out to the empty street. It’s stupid to miss Rhett but a small part of you does. You’re safe in the store; there’s no need to have him here with you. He has a life of his own and a ranch to help run. 

“Was that Rhett Abbott?”

You turn to face the owner of the voice, finding your coworker Sandra watching you excitedly. She’s got that glint in her eye, the one that means she’s not going to let this go easily. Wabang didn’t have a town gossip, but if they did, everyone knows she’d happily take the job. In high school, she was in everyone’s business, spreading rumors and ferreting out information. She never looked twice at you back then, you were too boring and quiet. 

“It was. He just gave me a lift. Not a big deal,” you promise her.

“Uh, nope," she says, popping the p and stopping you with a hand on your arm. "We’re not going to breeze past the fact that you left your car here last night and now the manwhore of Wabang is dropping you off. Spill," she demands.

"We're not…," you start, an automatic denial falling from your lips before you can stop it. She gives you an incredulous look and you stammer out an answer. "It's not a big deal. We're, um, dating," you explain.

"Rhett Abbott doesn't 'date'," she tells you, eyes narrowed. "He has sex with whatever buckle bunny catches his eye.”

“He’s not like that,” you argue, defensive at the way she speaks about him. You know Rhett’s reputation, pretty much everyone does, but you saw a different side of him last night and this morning. You know there’s something more under that charming smile. He listened when no one else did and that means something to you. 

“Honey, please,” she says dismissively. “That boy is nothing but trouble and trash. You best stay away from him."

“Don’t talk about him like that,” you tell her, voice warbling with emotion. “He’s not like everyone says.”

Sandra’s perfectly plucked brows disappear into her hairline. “Alright, alright,” she concedes, hands held up. “Just be careful. He might not stick around after he gets what he wants from you.”

“He’s stuck around the last two months just fine,” you fire back, only realizing after the words are out that you and Rhett never talked about a timeline. 

“Really?” Sandra says, leaning in closer enough for you to catch the fruity scent of the gum she smacks noisily. “That certainty explains why he hasn’t been hanging around the Handsome Gambler lately. I just thought maybe he was getting serious about bull riding or Royal had him on a short leash after the last fight.” She leans back, looking contemplative. “Well, that was some exciting gossip for a Friday morning.”

“Please don’t spread this around,” you ask her, knowing full well she would. Although the idea of people talking about your personal life made your skin crawl, you knew if Rhett were here he’d say it was good. The more it spread, the more likely your stalker would learn of it and back off. 

“Your secret is safe with me,” she promises you, crossing her fingers and winking. 

Sandra spends the rest of your time together on her phone, chewing on the endless supply of gum she keeps next to the register. You’re normally not a self involved person but you’re fairly certain she’s texting about you and Rhett. During lunch, you send him a text of your own about your conversation with Sandra. He responds immediately with a thumbs up emoji which doesn’t help your anxiety. What if he was mad? What if he was with another girl at that time and you just screwed up this whole story?

You spend your shift distracted, overthinking what you told Sandra enough that you keep losing track of the inventory you’re working on. Eventually you give up and volunteer to work the till. An unexpectedly busy afternoon keeps your focus on the task at hand and you don’t even notice it’s 5 p.m. until you look up and find Rhett in line for your register, a shopping basket in hand. 

He steps up to the counter and smiles. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you return, feeling unexpectedly shy. You stare at him long enough that he clears his throat and nudges the basket towards you.

“You gonna check me out?” he asks, his tone playful. 

Beside you, Sandra scoffs. When you spare her a glance, you find her watching Rhett. His attention, though, is focused on you. 

“What’s all this?” You question, taking out the deadbolt kit and some window locks.

“For your apartment. When I was there last night I saw they could use an update.”

“Rhett…” you trail off, embarrassed. 

He seems to sense your emotions and leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter. “I think this is the part where you ask me, cash or card,” he whispers. 

“Will that be cash or card?” You ask, thankful for how easily he dispels your discomfort.

After you’ve finished checking him out, you clock out and let him walk you to his truck with an arm around your shoulder.  Once you reach your apartment he pulls out a tool bag from the bed of the truck and says he’ll install the new deadbolt while you get ready. A part of you wants to protest or offer to pay him for the supplies, while another is too embarrassed to draw attention to what he’s doing for you, so instead you say nothing and disappear into your room.

“Pretty sure they’re doing line dancing tonight,” Rhett calls out in between the sounds of the power drill. “You got some boots you can wear?”

“Uh…I think so," you half yell back, staring at the contents of your closet. 

You have to get on your hands and knees and pull aside a few boxes to find a pair of brown boots. The last time you wore them was for high school graduation, back when your grandfather had been alive. You trace the delicate lines of embroidery around the calf, pale pink and periwinkle flowers connected by green vines. There hadn’t been a reason to wear them since, all you did was go to work and come home. 

Tonight seems as good as any and you stand to finish getting dressed. The sundress and jean jacket are a little dated but they’re comfortable and look nice enough. Once you’ve managed to fix your hair and makeup, you return to the living room to find Rhett replacing the old window locks.

The creak in the floor draws his attention to you briefly before his eyes return to the window. A second later they’re back on you. He blinks and stands, clearing his throat. 

“I think I’m ready," you announce. 

“You, ah, look real nice,” he tells you, nodding. “I like the flowers.” 

“Thanks. You look nice too,” you add, touching your neck self-consciously when he doesn’t immediately speak again but keeps watching you.

“Well…we should probably get going then.”

“Yeah,” you agree, watching Rhett gather up his tools. “Thanks again for installing that stuff.” 

Rhett nods. “I’ll finish up with the other windows tomorrow.”

The drive to the bar is quiet. Rhett’s fingers drum on the steering wheel as you wait at the stoplight. You cycle through potential conversation openers but discard them all. Nothing feels right, and you realize that the sour pit in your stomach only grows the closer you get to the Handsome Gambler. 

Would he be there tonight you wondered? Just the thought of seeing him is enough to make your breath come quickly and your hands tremble. You exhale and close your eyes, trying to get yourself together. Rhett is here. 

When the engine cuts out you look up, eyes drawn to the neon glow of the Handsome Gambler’s sign. Rhett’s quick to meet you at the curb, offering his arm. You curl your hand around his bicep and he draws you close. At this time of night, the bar is busy, humming with energy and conversation. Rhett navigates the crowd with ease, exchanging brief hellos with a few people, finally stopping at an empty booth. You slide in and he follows. 

“Want a beer?” He asks.

You’re not much of a drinker but you nod anyway. Rhett flags down a waitress and a few minutes later two cold beers are dropped off at your table. You fiddle with the label as Rhett takes a long swig and leans back, shoulders relaxing. When you sense him watching, you bring the bottle to your lips and take a drink. It’s cold and a little bitter on your tongue. Your distaste for it must show because Rhett cocks his head to the side with a faint smile on his lips.

“I can order you something else,” he offers. “Wine? Something fruity?”

“Maybe something fruity… honestly though this is okay. I don’t want it to go to waste.”

Rhett shakes his head and flags down the waitress again, ordering you a daiquiri. “It won’t go to waste,” he assures you, pulling the beer toward him.

You return his smile as he rests his arm along the back of the booth. His fingertips hover just above your shoulder, not quite touching your jacket. This close to him you can smell his cologne, faint and a little musky but nice. Everything about this is surprisingly nice, including the way his denim-clad leg presses against yours, warm and firm. 

“He’s not here,” Rhett announces and you look up at him sharply. He’s still scanning the bar as he sips from his beer. For one silly moment, you forgot why you were even here, something that seemed impossible earlier. 

“Should we go?” You ask Rhett.

You’d only come to make it clear to the man that you were with Rhett.

“What?” Rhett’s brow furrows as he glances at you. “Why? You wanna go?”

“No.” You shake your head just as the waitress arrives with your drink. “We came so he’d see…”

“There’s more than one way to make sure he knows,” Rhett tells you, pushing up the brim of his hat before leaning in close. You can feel his breath against your cheek. “Look to your right, past the pool tables. You see those men?” You nod, watching the rowdy group in the corner playing darts as you absently sip your drink. 

“They all work at the Dustin ranch, including the one in the baseball cap who keeps looking at us.” At that moment, the man in question stands up for his turn and looks back, meeting your eyes. If he is surprised to find you looking, he doesn’t show it. He holds your gaze for a second before glancing at Rhett who smirks and waves. His expression doesn’t change but when he turns back you catch a brief flash of something.

“He’ll make sure Jimmy gets the message that you’re with me.”

“Jimmy?”

“Your stalker," Rhett clarifies. "After I dropped you off this morning I paid a friend of mine a visit that’s friendly with the foreman of the Dustin ranch. That’s the man’s name. He hangs out with the guy in the baseball cap, Rick.” 

“Oh.” You stare at the table, trying to process the information Rhett gave you.

When he says your name softly you realize several minutes have passed in silence. “Sorry, I….” you trail off and look back at the man with the baseball cap. 

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Rhett says. “This is a lot.”

You nod, lips pressed together because you don’t trust yourself to speak. 

“Line dancing looks fun,” he notes, taking a swig of beer. “Might be a nice distraction and you can put those fancy boots to good use.”

“They’re not fancy,” you defend. 

“Hmmm, don’t look like nothing I’ve seen at the feed store,” he teases. “Come on.” He stands and offers his hand. 

You let him pull you up and follow him to the dance floor as Vince Gill’s What The Cowgirls Do fades from the speakers and a soft, more subdued song  plays. The crowd thins and you realize the remaining dancers are pairing up. Rhett doesn’t seem deterred by the change in music, grasping your right hand and wrapping his left arm loosely around your body. His palm rests firmly on your shoulder blade, pulling your body close to his. After a moment of hesitation, you settle your left arm on his bicep.

“It’s been a while since I’ve danced like this,” you admit, watching how easily the other couples move around the dance floor. 

“Nothing to it. All you gotta do is follow, I’ll lead,” Rhett promises, surging forward and taking you with him. 

You stumble a little but he’s quick to adjust his pace for you, whispering words of encouragement. Maybe it's how Rhett guides you around the dance floor or some long buried muscle memory from high school but soon enough you’re moving in sync. Then he raises his arm to spin your body in a circle before quickly drawing you back into his arms. When he does it again a second time, a breathless laugh escapes you. 

“Atta girl,” Rhett says, drawing you closer. 

Your skin tingles and you feel warm all over when he speaks those two simple words. The world narrows to Rhett’s handsome face, his blue eyes dark pools in the dim light. Your chest constricts, only allowing you to pull in shallow breaths that leave you lightheaded. It’s only when someone else bumps into the two of you and the spells breaks that you realize a new, more upbeat song is playing. 

Rhett’s lashes flutter and he releases you, his gaze falling away a moment later. 

“Beer’s probably getting warm,” he says and you hum your agreement, letting him lead you back to your seat.

Before you can make it, two men you don’t recognize stop Rhett. 

“Shit, that you Abbott?” The shorter one questions, swaying on his feet. 

You watch Rhett for his reaction, only relaxing when he smiles. “Smitty.”

“Heard you’re riding tomorrow.”

“I am,” Rhett agrees.

“Damn,now we gotta go to see that,” he tells his friend before turning his attention to you. “Did you know your boyfriend's one of the best damn bull riders in these parts?" He asks. 

You’re not sure what to say so you just nod. 

“You guys gotta come get a drink with us,” Smitty says. 

“Thanks, but my girl and I were about to head out,” Rhett says, capturing your hand in his. “Y'all have a good night.”

My girl. 

Rhett uses that phrase so casually, like he’s done it 100 times before. For a moment, you let yourself imagine a world where it’s true, losing yourself in the fantasy long enough to miss the rest of their conversation. When Smitty and his friend stumble away, Rhett leads you back to the booth where  your daiquiri has all but melted. If Rhett’s beer is warm, he doesn’t show it, finishing it off in one gulp. 

“If you want to get a drink with your friends…,” you start hesitantly.

Rhett’s quick to cut you off with a shake of his head.  “Not with those two dipshits. They’re fun for sure but… trouble too.”

You turn to face him. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

He waves your comment away, grinning with one side of his mouth. “Maybe, but it aint suitable for girls with flowers on their boots.” 

The rest of the evening passes surprisingly easy, so much so that before you know it, it’s nearly midnight and you’ve all but forgotten about Jimmy and the man in the hat. Rhett pays your bill with cash and walks you to his car, keeping a hand on your lower back. 

Once you arrive at your apartment, Rhett turns off the truck and leans forward to look out the windshield.

“Want me to stay the night?” He asks, leaning back. 

You do, but you’re aware of just how much he’s done for you already; staying over last night and pretending with you at the bar. You should decline and let him go home to sleep in a real bed but behind him you can see the dark windows of your apartment and the words catch in your throat. 

“Never was an Eagle Scout,” he starts, pulling a black duffle bag from behind the seat, “but I came prepared.”

You stare at the bag, surprised, and when you look back at Rhett he gives you that half smile of his, brow arched. You find yourself nodding before you can think too hard about it.

“Alright,” Rhett says, opening his door, “come on.”

That night you sleep better than you have in weeks and when the morning comes, you quietly slip out of your bedroom.  Rhett is already up, a mug of coffee in hand. He looks lost in thought, a deep crease between his brows but his expression clears when he sees you. 

“Made coffee,” he says, raising his mug. “Hope that was alright.”

“Of course,” you’re quick to tell him. 

“I won't be able to pick you up after work,” Rhett says, following you into the kitchen and leaning back against the counter. “Gotta be at the rodeo early but my Ma said she’d be there.”

“Okay.” You yawn as you doctor your coffee to make it sweet enough to drink.

“Looks like I kept you out too late,” he observes, watching you over the rim of his mug. 

“No, it was…” you pause searching for the right word but come up short. “I appreciate it,” you finally settle on. 

Rhett nods, looking away. “It’s nothing.”

When he sets his empty mug in the sink, you head back to your room and get ready for work.  Once you’re dressed, you reach for the beat-up tennis shoes you always wear, stopping short when you see your boots from last night. You hesitate for only a second before slipping them on instead. 

Rhett drops you off with a kiss on your cheek and a wave to Sandra, who watches the two of you from the front window display. The day passes uneventfully, without any sign of Jimmy. A little after 6 pm the Abbotts come to collect you. Cecilia is warm and open, asking about work while Royal drives, glancing at you occasionally in the rearview mirror. You’ve only met Rhett’s father in passing and always found him to be an intimidating man. Tonight he’s mostly silent, only chiming in when you tell Cecilia about an issue that happened today with Donald Everrtt’s lumber order.

“That man’s got more cows than sense,” Royal grumbles and you laugh when Cecilia chastises him.

Leaning back and gazing out the window, you think about your own parents. They weren’t so different from Rhett’s and you’d forgotten how nice something as simple as this could feel. Thinking of them hurts like it always does and you swallow around the lump in your throat, distracting yourself by listening to Cecilia and Royal talk about Rhett and the bull he’s meant to ride tonight. 

When you arrive at the rodeo, it’s loud and chaotic. The announcer booms something about the bull riding beinging soon. It doesn’t escape your notice that Royal and Cecilia keep you between them as they guide you through the crowd of people to the metal bleachers where Rhett’s brother and his family are waiting. Their daughter, Amy, is quick to question you once you’re seated. 

“Are you Uncle Rhett’s girlfriend?” she asks, leaning around Cecilia to see you.

You stare at her, unsure how to answer with so many people around. Rhett had shared the plan with his parents but you weren’t sure who else knew the truth. Your silence makes Amy’s  little brows furrow, a look so reminiscent of her uncle that it almost makes you smile. 

Thankfully Cecilia interjects before you have to figure out what to say. “Yes, Amy.”

Before Amy can ask you any more questions, her mother suggests they get some popcorn. Once they disappear, Perry takes a swig from the flask in his boot, and when he sees his mother looking, he makes a face.

“Come on Ma,” he grumbles, but Cecilia pins him with a silent, angry look and he eventually puts the flask away, sighing heavily.

There are several riders before Rhett and you watch each of them get thrown from their bull with increasing anxiety. You search for him among the crowd of riders at the far end of the fence. When you spot him, you’re surprised to find he’s watching you. He grins, tipping his hat. It’s such a simple gesture, but it fills you with a fluttering warmth that lasts long after he looks away to acknowledge his parents. 

When it’s finally Rhett’s turn to ride, you rub your hands on your thighs anxiously. The buzzer goes off and you flinch as the gate is ripped open. The world narrows to Rhett, the bull, and the sound of your own breathing. The seconds tick past agonizingly slow until he’s thrown from the bull. 

Dust flies and the bull stomps. You stand up, searching until you find him stock still in the dirt. You make a small, terrified sound and Royal touches your shoulder drawing your gaze. 

“He’s okay. Just got the breath knocked from him,” he assures you. 

You look at Cecilia who seems just as concerned but then a second later the bull is gone and Rhett stands. His gaze is focused on the scoreboard but you watch him. His expression is serious, lips pressed into a thin line as his chest heaves. Then suddenly he smiles, open joy written across his features and the crowd cheers. When you look up his name is first on the board. 

Beside you, Royal yells and Perry sticks two fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly. Cecilia shouts his name and Amy jumps with excitement. You expect Rhett to come straight to his parents but he makes a beeline for you, climbing up the bleachers and past people with ease. 

“Rhett,” you start, whatever you were going to say cut short by his lips on yours. The kiss is intense but brief. When he pulls away, he looks as surprised as you feel. You stare at one another before suddenly he’s pulled back by an older man who claps him on the shoulder. More people push forward to offer him congratulations. 

“Let him hear you one more time,” the announcer encourages. “Ladies and gentlemen, your hometown hero, Rhett Abbott!”

You touch your lips, mind working hard to process what just happened. Rhett looks back, eyes glued to yours as he’s pulled back into the ring.

“Come on sweetheart,” Cecilia urges, patting your arm. “Let’s wait for him at the other end. Less people.”

You can’t see her eyes under the brim of your hat but you suddenly realize she and about a hundred other people just witnessed what Rhett did. You have no idea what his parents must think. There’s another feeling under the embarrassment and awkwardness that you don’t investigate too closely. 

“Well that was something,” Royal says and you glance up at him sharply before you realize he’s talking about Rhett’s ride. 

Cecilia smiles. “He’s gonna ride next weekend in the finals for sure.”

“I knew he’d make it,” Royal says proudly and you smile at both of them, nodding your agreement. 

After a few minutes, Perry arrives alone. “It was getting late so I thought it best Amy went home,” he tells the three of you, hands on his hips. “She can celebrate with us tomorrow.”

“Hmmm and I suppose you’re gonna help your brother celebrate tonight?” Cecilia asks, judgment clear in her tone.

“Yeah. Handsome Gambler,” he confirms, clapping Rhett on the back as he arrives. “You’ll be drinking for free, that’s for sure.” 

“Did you consider that your brother might not want to go?” Cecilia asks, looking at you pointedly. 

“Oh, that’s alright. We can go,” you say, feeling even more awkward.

Perry grins and leans in. This close you can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Great, I’ll get us a booth.”

He disappears before Rhett even has a chance to speak. Cecilia sighs and Royal rubs her back. “Nothing wrong with having a little fun,” he reminds her.

“I know,” she concedes. “But be safe,” she adds, looking intently at Rhett.

“I will,” he promises her, nodding seriously.  

Cecilia offers you a tight hug, promising to stop by the store later in the week. Once she and Royal are gone, you’re alone with Rhett. He rubs the back of his neck and clears his throat. 

“I’m sorry.” He pauses, looking back at you. “For the kiss. I shoulda asked if you were okay with that. I was out of line.”

“It’s okay. It uh, was good. Lots of people saw. That’s the point right?”

He stares at you for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face. “Yeah, that’s the point," he agrees, finally before his gaze flicks away. “But, we don’t have to go to the Gambler tonight. Perry’s just… Perry,” he finishes with a long suffering sigh. 

You think about how excited he was before and what tonight means for him. He’d done so much for you lately, the least you could do was go with him to the bar. There was no way he’d drop you off and home and go alone. You had fun with him last night after all. Maybe tonight would be just as nice. 

“We can go,” you tell him but he frowns, clearly unconvinced. It’s late and you’re tired but it isn’t hard to manage a genuine smile for him. “Afterall, I brought my dancing boots,” you add, pulling up your jeans to reveal them. 

“Alright,” he agrees, his expression lightening. 

The bar is more crowded than last night and Rhett keeps you close. Everyone wants to talk to him, including Maria. You can’t help but feel jealous at the way she lays a hand on Rhett’s arm and leans in close to speak to him. She’s even more beautiful than she was in high school when half the town knew he’d been in love with her.

Watching them together and seeing the easy way he smiled at her, you wonder if he still is. That makes your chest ache, which is silly. You and Rhett weren’t actually together. Nothing, from the dance last night to his kiss earlier, was real. It was an act because you caught the wrong kind of attention. Suddenly, you want to be anywhere but here. You take a step away but Rhett’s quick to face you, his hand shooting out to grasp your elbow.

You lean in to be heard over the din of the bar. “I need to use the restroom but Perry said he can come with me,” you lie, looking over your shoulder at his brother. 

“I can come,” Rhett tells you, setting his beer down. 

You wave him off. “Catch up with your friends.”

When you realize Rhett doesn’t turn around immediately you’re forced to actually ask Perry. He agrees and finishes off his beer, following after you a little unsteady. You take your time in the bathroom, splashing water on your face and staring at your reflection. It’s quiet here but your mind is buzzing. You close your eyes and sigh. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, lost in thought but eventually a toilet flushes and you stand straight. You were being selfish, Rhett deserved to celebrate tonight without worrying over you. 

With a deep breath you head back into the bar, searching for Perry. When you left he was leaning against the wall, scrolling on his phone. Now he’s nowhere to be found. You only make it a few steps before someone’s hand closes around your wrist and tugs you back. You spin around, half expecting to find Rhett but it’s not him. 

Green eyes meet yours. 

“Hi baby,” Jimmy says, smiling. 

[bi-badass-geek]

Hades 1 vs Hades 2 Designs

● Hermes besides Hypnos was first character that made me think when i saw him oh some time has passed since Zag's escapes indeed, makes you feel that time skip. In this particular debate between those i'm really digging both but if needed to say which i prefer would go with second. I feel it should be said he sure rolls nicely with longer hair i would say darker outfit too but that's probably because pallet that's used for levels.

Ps. I saw post that mentioned how his ring is the same as ones Charon is wearing in first game and if it's a hint at something i'm here for it!

● Zeus for this god specifically there is discourse about how his pose is less dynamic and oh boy if i don't agree with that so much. In first game you see him and his look makes you think yeah this is the king of gods while in second game man is just there with posture i take often because i'm useless gay that don't know what to do with my hands and feels like they took all this might and put it into chiseling his nipples & abs into his golden chestplate. Not to mention the detail of missing the iconic bolt! Don't think it needs to be said but 100% would pick Hades 1 design out of those options.

● Poseidon the King of the Sea another example in my humble opinion where they went with flattening that dynamic looks exchanging it for man that just standing there chilling which is good for him but where first screams cool uncle second one goes uncle that wants retirement. I really like how we can see the trident now tho and need to point out his outfit sure got more print on it. When it comes down to pointing out which one is the winner in my eyes it would be 2020 one.

● Aphrodite if she wasn't the one that got thrown into drama because people double standards and hypocrisy. Design from first game and the pose straight up makes you think of love, lust, seduction all the things that are associated with said goddess. As for Hades 2 version i have no clue why it feels like this considering it's actually the opposite because we can see armor on her legs now but she feels less covered for me, do i find it negative or in any way problematic? Not one bit let the woman show off all her assets all day long! Really love the adds of her weapon and shield makes you immerse in the store of oh fights are happening around these parts. From seduction to i stand here at the ready kinda vibe and i'm really digging it.

Ps. Another post i read was about fact that her war paint i will call it (not 100% sure if that is it or just line for the giggles) is reference to Ares and considering her myth i really like that touch!

● Hypnos was the first OG i saw and was like man not only catching up on his sleep but also got such glow up i absolutely adore the design. Not to say he looked bad in Hades 1 but there it was like okay nice to Hades 2 like Damnnn and his lil helpers that keeps him up! Love the fact that of all things they made him be tucked into his cape like burrito.

Ps. I really do hope by the end of the game we get to wake him up so he can try out that nectar that we all leave there waiting.

● Chaos so many things to say and at the same time silence says it all. Seen people focusing on fact some out there call them he or how it's a downgrade from previous but don't even elaborate why they think that because everyone has right to have their own preference but at least put it into words instead of going trash next..there was also notion how they resemble Meg and while i see where people get that idea from for sure before reading that my mind didn't went there at all. I think both designs really work with someone who is primordial originator and how time goes so can their form. I find it very fascinating that they put old skeleton with new one and adore galaxy under suit makes me think of Nyx right away and how they're connected. Can totally see how between those two gamers got major stance that left reminds them more of male and right of female beings but at the end of the it chaos is chaos. Gotta take chair routine from Meg while they at it! The face on the shoulder surely throws me in loop tho fits? Sure. Does it disturb me in micro scale? Yes. About frames and poses don't have much to say cause both caption the essence of i mind my business everything unrelevant until i say so.

Ps. I know it's about physical aspect but let me say Chaos roasting Mel about how her brother is amusing one out of two Hades spawns is living rent free in my brain.

[jeanmoreautemple]

A hard task: Rank the AFTG characters by attractiveness!

Hi nonny thanks for coming

Hard indeed, I hope you meant by how attractive they are in-universe, cause I’m going with that:

Allison. As per the extra content, Allison is straight up objectively beautiful, the kind of beauty you stop and gawk at in the airport according to Nora. She also has all the products and clothes money can buy so she’s always looking flawless. Neil doesn’t mention anything about her looks other than her design clothes but Neil is Neil.

Kevin. Narratively speaking, Kevin should be extremely attractive, as his character is meant to follow the tropes of The Ace and Always Someone Better. The comments Nicky makes about him suggest that he is indeed hot and it is a well known fact, as Erik seems to agree. But he is said to be “handsome through careful grooming”, meaning he needs to make an effort to look that good. His nice appearance is very deliberate. Jean calls him beautiful too, but he also calls Renee a pretty face , when Nora has said that she looks mostly normal, so it might be a sentimental statement.

Jeremy. Another good combo of being naturally good looking + being an athlete + putting all the money and effort he wants into his looks. He’s a rich guy living in LA and we know he goes to the hair salon. Nora said he has befriended 90% of his rivals worldwide and I think great part of that charm comes from his looks. Jean seems to be down for him since before meeting, just from looking at his game broadcasts and articles.

Jean. Jeremy and Laila comment on it first thing meeting him in person, even with Jean’s crooked nose and unevenly cut hair. A bad nose and a bad hair game would usually ruin someone’s appearance, so it says a lot about Jean’s looks. And he is putting 0 efforts as he believes he’s worthless. Jeremy mentions: raven haired, tall, all coiled strength, long limbs—you get the idea. And again narratively speaking Jean should be good looking: it’s depressive but most outside the nest so easily believing the rumours follows the So Beautiful It’s a Curse trope. Two contemporary characters with SA storylines heartbreakingly similar to Jean are Finnick from The Hunger Games and Genya from the Grishaverse, both also beautiful and SA’d since little in front of everyone. Both easily dismissed as seducers.

Neil. Good looking enough for Nicky and Andrew to take notice from the beginning, and for Allison to immediately try to flirt with him to make Seth jealous, even though he’s like 5’3’’ and Seth was like 6’1’’. And everyone thought he was trailer trash lol. His face card must be insane. He also puts absolutely 0 effort into his looks.

The rest all look normal according to Nora, but shoutout to Matt who gels his hair into spikes and is (at least) 6’4’’. I personally thinks he’s super hot.

[i-heart-hxh]

Do you think Illumi’s comment about how Gon is just dazzling to Killua and a temporary fixation and Hisoka’s line about how transmitters are fickle and their treasures can turn to trash easily were foreshadowing for how Killua has come to see Gon? How at first Gon meant the world to him but now he’s basically done with him because of what happened during the CAA? Togashi could be planning to reunite them, but maybe this was his way of saying that Killua is done with Gon.

Hi! I actually see it in the opposite way to this view, almost.

As the audience I don't think we're supposed to agree with what Illumi is saying--that Killua doesn't deserve to have friends and that he'll ultimately betray them. It doesn't end up matching what happens in the series, nor does it match the overall message of what the series is about, and Illumi is an antagonist whose views the series repeatedly refutes (think: Alluka and how he sees her).

However, I also think that early in the series, Togashi was potentially trying to misdirect the audience with Killua's intentions. Killua early on was much more dangerous and edgy than he becomes as the series goes on, and there were a few pieces of foreshadowing that he might turn on Gon or the main group, which includes Hisoka's statement about Transmuters being fickle and their priorities changing rapidly, as well as Silva making him promise never to betray his friends and then expressing certainty that Killua will come back (as in, he was setting him up for failure because of the needle). There are also a few comparisons of Killua to Hisoka very early on that might fit into this (beyond the Transmuter thing), some even from Killua himself, and the scene with him getting frustrated with the ball game with Netero and then killing those guys as a result.

I believe Togashi laid this expectation down early in the series in order to subvert it and have Killua grow in the opposite direction. Killua felt like a "rival" type character or one who might eventually betray Gon/his friends, but instead he ends up being extraordinarily loyal to Gon (to a fault, even), he gets kinder and emotionally stronger as the series goes on, and he goes to extreme lengths to save Gon even after Gon pushed him away. He actively defies what his family expects of him! Even when he does go back home as Silva predicted, it's in order to break Alluka out of there and leave, and keep his promise to Silva by never betraying his friends--the opposite of what Silva actually wanted to happen when he made that promise with Killua.

Illumi's comment about Gon being "too dazzling for Killua's eyes" actually "comes back" in the form of the You are Light scene, where Killua uses similar language (in the original Japanese version) to describe why he can't look at Gon directly. That whole scene is about Killua comparing himself to Gon and thinking he's not worthy of him. However, Gon ends up falling into darkness himself and only Killua is able to save him--therefore, Killua becomes Gon's "light" right back. Because of what Illumi told Killua and the environment he grew up in, Killua himself didn't have faith in his own ability to be who Gon needed, but he managed it anyway because of how deeply he loves Gon.

He helps break Palm out of her loss of identity after she becomes a Chimera Ant, and becomes Ikalgo's light, too, by befriending him even though they're initially on opposite sides of the war.

We don't know the full reasons for Killua leaving Gon, however I suspect one of the reasons he leaves is in order to protect Gon from Illumi, who very well may pursue and endanger Killua and Alluka. Killua likely also needed a break from Gon after all they went through, but I don't think it'll be forever by any means. I made a post previously about why a reunion and reconciliation between them feels just about inevitable.

So, I absolutely do think those statements about Killua were "planted" intentionally within the series, but for the purpose of him breaking those assumptions rather than living up to them. One of the best things about Killua's character is how he initially seems so much different than he turns out to be. His commitment to and care for those he loves comes from a pure place in spite of the way he was raised, and he grows so much as a person throughout the series. He's a kind and courageous boy. I don't see him leaving Gon as a betrayal or throwing him away or legitimately "replacing" Gon with Alluka--they just came to a point where, for the time being, they had to take diverging paths. But I absolutely think their paths will converge again within the series, assuming Togashi can get that far.

I don't think Togashi is telling a depressing story where these tragic things happen between the two protagonists (who clearly adore each other) and then that's it, their relationship is over and they'll never get to mend the issues between them nor communicate all the things they haven't gotten to say to each other. There's a reason the separation is as brief and complicated as it is--it's intended to leave us with questions, and I believe those questions will be answered someday, assuming the manga is able to reach that point.

[maxdibert]

The double standards of HP fandom is the highlight of my day. I love the hypocrisy of “the marauders have matured” as they say and make up horrible things about Sev. It's always “they were teenagers, all teenagers do shit”, but they also ignore that Severus was a teenager when he called Lily a Mudblood, he was also a teenager when he believed that the bad side was a lifeline in his existence. But they always throw him under the bus, shouting like idiots about how Severus is “racist”, “fascist” and “nazi”. Boys will always be boys, until the boy is Severus and they will act as if an outcast child is the root of the entire world's evil and that their favorites are peacekeepers just because they are on the “good” side of the coin, ignoring that his “punishers” are part of the reason Sev is who he has become.

I couldn’t agree more with this. The double standards are wild, and the mental gymnastics people do to justify their favorites while trashing Severus is honestly fascinating in the worst way. Like, “the Marauders have matured”? Please. Sirius is 30+ years old in Order of the Phoenix and still acting like he’s in high school, picking fights with Snape just because he can. That’s maturity? Meanwhile, Severus is held accountable forever for stuff he did as a literal teenager, in the middle of being bullied and isolated, and on top of that, having no real support system.

The “he was a Nazi” argument drives me insane. Severus grew up in a broken home, surrounded by poverty, abuse, and probably a ton of internalized self-loathing. He latched onto the Death Eaters as a desperate, misguided attempt to gain power and control in a world where he had none. Does that make his choices right? No, but it makes them understandable. But no, let’s keep pretending he was just an evil mastermind from birth while completely ignoring that James and Sirius literally assaulted him for fun. I guess we’re cool with bullies as long as they’re charming and good-looking?

And don’t even get me started on Dumbledore. Everyone acts like Dumbledore is some saint, but the man literally used Severus as a pawn for years, keeping him trapped in this cycle of guilt and redemption while letting everyone else treat him like garbage. But oh no, Snape said a slur when he was 15, so let’s act like he’s beyond redemption. Meanwhile, the Marauders and their crew, who are canonically responsible for attempted murder (hello, werewolf prank??), get a free pass because they’re “fun.”

It’s the hypocrisy for me. Severus has to be perfect, repentant, and saintly just to be considered “okay,” while others get to coast on their charm and charisma despite being cruel, reckless, or outright abusive. If you’re going to judge characters for their actions, at least hold them all to the same standard, or just admit you’re biased and move on. P.S. Unpopular opinion, but honestly, Severus calling Lily a “Mudblood” feels almost laughable compared to everything he was going through at the time. Maybe it’s because my friends and I (we’ve literally known each other since nursery school) are a codependent bunch with dynamics straight out of a dysfunctional family, but we’ve had fights, arguments, screamed at each other, thrown the nastiest things in each other’s faces, stopped talking for a while, and yet we always managed to work things out. I get that Lily had her reasons for cutting ties—it’s absolutely valid, and no one has the right to tell you when or how to set boundaries with someone you feel isn’t good for you anymore. But the fandom in general blows this way out of proportion. I mean, I personally find an attempted murder, like the one Sirius orchestrated, a lot worse, and yet people don’t give that even half the weight they give to this incident.

[redsparko]

Hopefully this reaches the right audience.

I’d like to talk about Maya Sokolov and her writing and the analysis of what Miss Rina Kent could’ve done with her character and her story. I know Rina said in one of her Insta stories that for sure Remi, Maya, Vaughn, and Gareth were not getting stories. I can be fine with Remi and Vaughn not getting stories (Remi not so much but I can live) while Maya and Gareth I can feel some potential with.

And I get it from Rina’s POV, miss girl has written like 35 books within 3-4 years. And if she feels no passion or connection with certain characters then she won’t write it. I understand and agree with that completely.

It doesn’t mean I won’t have any ideas about it yeah? Even if it’s not canon that’s what makes it fun.

Anyway back to the point, Maya Sokolov and her character

She falls under the lines of the Queen Bee, diva, bitch. Something like Silver, Nicole, and Reina. I absolutely love those three. Personally, Silver should’ve gotten the trilogy, Reina was done dirty lowkey, and Nicole’s story (Empire of Hate) left me with wanting more groveling. But out of the three I found I relate to Nicole more.

It’s the inferiority complex. I love that shit, I have it too, and I eat it up. And that’s clearly scene in Maya too. In the end of GOR it’s referenced/implied/canon that Maya was jealous of Mia and made a monkey’s paw type wish that came true.

There’s something so raw and sad and powerful in that that can and should be shown in Maya’s character (speaking from personal experience) feeling something so negative that it results in an act of hurting another person you REALLY care about because it comes from a place of deep sadness and insecurity.

Maya can act like the biggest girl boss and look at everyone like they’re the dirt beneath her feet (literal quote from GOR) but that does not disguise the fact she can only act like that because no one else will ever hate her more than how she hates herself.

And as readers we can really see it, and even theorize it from in between the lines. In GOF we read about Nikolai’s thoughts about the twins.

There are people saying that GOR ruined the relationship and wished it never happened. I can’t say the execution of it was done well but I can’t say it was a total trash fire either. It’s a 50/50 depending because there are good things I absolutely loved and things that could’ve been improved.

But mostly people are saying that the relationship between Maya and Mia was sabotaged and it would’ve been better if it never happened. I disagree, I prayed for times like this to come—kidding, but the layers of anger and frustration and love in the relationship between them makes the relationship deeper. But we never get to see that in its completion.

Think of Landon and Brandon in GOF. We love them so much because behind that ire and blockage from both sides they came through that and love prevailed. This is why I stand by Rina Kent MALE friendships/relationships. They’re much more complex and thought out than the female friendships which come off as somewhat shallow. I’ll make another rant abt that later.

What I wish was done better was mentioning the difference in Maya, Niko and Mia’s relationship. It’s clear that Niko likes Maya less than Mia. And Maya feels less than Mia because she’s seen that Mia is favored. It’s not Niko’s fault but it’s like an unconscious thing, he’s just closer with her because he sees that he is similar to Mia. It’s a common and natural thing, you’re just closer to people you feel like you can relate with. That checks out.

I feel like even both of Maya’s siblings only see her for what she pushes herself out to be, a shadow diva who sees herself as superior (obviously hiding an inferiority complex). They don’t stop to acknowledge that maybe she’s compensating for something? Especially Nikolai, in that quote saying that he and Mia would fuck up each other’s demons but what abt Maya? You can’t be close to her because she doesn’t have flaws or negative thoughts or demons either?

This feels less like a “it’s Nikolai’s personality” issue and more like a “Rina Kent wrote Maya to be nothing more than her character archetype”

Other than that, I also wanna mention Maya’s relationship with Ilya and how it could enhance her character and dynamics.

Ilya is down to earth, not egotistical like Landon, or notoriously violent or volatile like Nikolai, nor with the high status like Jeremy. He’s a perfect match for Maya.

It’s mentioned by GOR from Mia’s POV that Maya wants someone high status with lots of money (I agree, get it girl slay) but Ilya is not those things. He’s just a bodyguard and the money in comparison isn’t that good. But he can see Maya for who she truly is, someone who is hurt on the inside, insecure and needing some help.

It’s not what she wants but it’s what she needs. She needs someone who won’t isn’t already existing in the circle who prefers Mia to her.

Although I do wanna say that I love the angst in early chapters if Maya felt some jealousy and sadness from believing that Ilya prefers Mia to her (seeing as how Ilya doesn’t regard Maya with the same reverence as other boys do) and he’s actually friendly to Mia while he’s bitchier to Maya. It’s all part of the angst. But endgame wise he would choose Maya cause he sees right through her and is more interested in the true part of her that’s vulnerable and scared to love in fear that the one she loves will love Mia more.

[tessarionbestgirl]

Aemond and Alicent are getting a lot of hate from TG now, mostly Aegon stans. I agree that the show did Aegon dirty, but same goes for Aemond and Alicent. Bad writing affects them, too. However, some people tend to twist the narrative to show Aegon as the only victim. What's your opinion on this? Does Aemond owe an unyielding loyalty to Aegon? Should Alicent support Aegon more?

I am glad someone ask me this because I have so many thoughts on this subject. So first about Aegon's characterization compared to the book, in the book Aegon goes from a hedonistic character to competent leader and someone that cares about his family to fast. What the show is trying to do in my opinion, is slow his progression, we may get see book Aegon, later, even spoilers going around suggest we may get Criston Cole Kingmaker speech to him after Rook Rest. What is always a important thing because is supposed to be a inverse parallel in arcs compared to Rhaenyra, she starts as the Realm's Delight and then become Maegor with tits.

The rape scene I think was necessary? No, do I think is ooc? Absolutely not. We had a 12 year old girl sucking his dick in the book. The children's fighting ring may have been to much and unnecessary, but is not as like the show as well didn't made Rhaenyra way more stupid compared to her book version by having white babies and trying to pass them as bastards from a black guy.

The show is always going to choose a change for a more dramatic effect, so Aemond betraying Aegon is way more interesting than he just being a loyal dog to him. And it have been set up for this. We have Aegon bullying his ass when they are child, even though for Aegon this was nothing serious, because Aegon lacks knowledge of boundaries, he is the guy that bullies his younger brother, the guy that he masturbates naked from his own bedroom window, he is the guy who rapes a girl because he was too drunk and then tries to brush off, to her mom the same way he tried to brush off the fact he bullied his brother, "it was nothing serious". So of course makes sense a drunk adult Aegon humiliate Aemond in such intimacy moment while none of this friends laugh.

Of course Aemond who has desire for power and reflects this in the same way that Daemon desires to be king, and he truly believe he is more suited to be king, thing he said himself to Cole last season, so of course he would take a opportunity that presents it self with Aegon rush into a battle.

And this also adds to Aemond's arc as king slayer because killing Luke may have been a mistake, but burning his own brother was not. Tg being mad that their expectations of those characters didn't match up, doesn't equal bad writing in my view. But also, this coming from me, I don't like Fire and Blood because is a objectively a bad book and is full of inconsistencies, one of then is the battle Rook Rest, in each the show done better.

So does Aemond owe an unyielding loyalty to Aegon? This is hard question to answer because, I don't consume media like that. For me Aemond own nothing to Aegon, betraying him is not morality right, but is not ooc for those reasons I said previously. Like we have favorite characters on this show but we must have in mind those are very gray characters that can be very terrible people and this is a tragic story. The worse possible outcome of things will happen, for dramatic effect or to add to tragic story even if they have good intentions at first.

Now about Alicent, look I think people when analyzing that scene with her on the room forget all the events that happened to Alicent at this point. Alicent in previous council meetings have asking him to proceed with precaution, he ignore her and is rude to her, showing no respect for her, or for anyone on that table, then when Otto comes with idea for pr move he accepts, but Alicent end part of it, something she didn't want and have to watch her own daughter have a breakdown. Then all her effort goes to the trash because Aegon kill every rat catchers and banishes Otto the only person that not only have Aegon best interest but as well it gives Alicent voice in the council.

Tell me now how she wouldn't be pissed at him for him acting so reckless and not listing anyone while banishing away her father? And maybe in other circumstance she would speak to him in a different way. We saw how in the first small council scene she blames the Lannister for the kid behavior because she knows her own son.

But, here we are seeing a drunk mother that is in a middle of life crises very angry at her son.

So the words she would soft spoken to him in other circumstance she says more flatly , with no filter. But none of them are untrue, when she compared him to his father, people don't realize she is not saying Viserys was a good king, and Aegon is trash. She saying that Viserys used to listen to people around him when comes to the best interest of the realm. What Aegon does not.

When she says him to do nothing, people forget she also said he should learn first with all of them in the table. She is basically saying "be more humble and before giving your opinion or do something stupid, learn from others" but Aegon doesn't listen that, what he listens because of his own insecurities and trauma is " my mom find me useless and I have to prove myself because I'm not a fraud."

And you can not blame Alicent for Aegon internalized logic. Is sad he feels this way. But I am already spoken on how they showed Aegon have the same education than Aemond, but he didn't take that seriously, all this in S1 with that training scene, and this lead him to be the terrible leader that he is now and his own insecurities.

Should Alicent support Aegon more? Maybe she should be a more loving mother, but we can't forget her motherhood is a direct response of who she is as person and she is a very flawed individual as anyone and she can have bad days as anyone.

[rossellini-tyrell]

Nothing's Gonna Change My World

Ch. 8 - i sat on a rug (biding my time, drinking her wine)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Word Count: ~7500 Pairing: Pavitr x F!Reader

Warnings:

THIS IS SMUT. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE SMUT, OR NOT BETWEEN THESE CHARACTERS, DO NOT TOUCH THAT KEEP READING LINK. Under 18? Please click out of this post! All characters here are in their early-mid 20s. things that happen: reader receives oral and it's cash money. Pav aesops a lot about healthy experiences. Gwen gets a little (or a lot OOC). also found on AO3 and Wattpad.

"I swear, I could have put the damn ring on Miles's finger myself after that!" gushes Gwen from her spot on your couch. She's tipsy, you're each on either your second or third hard seltzer, and your living room is starting to wobble and melt before your very eyes. "I would wholly support that," you agree. Gwen giggles in that overly familiar way, the one that tells you she's cooking up something wicked in that brain of hers. She leans in closer, slings an arm around your shoulder and peers at you through conspiratorially-squinted eyes. "So, (You), how's Pav?" she asks, a lilt in her voice that tells you there's definitely an ulterior motive to this seemingly innocent question. "Oh, he's great!" you reply, ducking out of wherever this is going. "He just raised another round of funding, so he's going to be able to expand his company more!" "That's great, but that doesn't answer my question," she says. "How. Is. Pav?" she enunciates. Her top two teeth peek out, pressing into her lower lip. You start to sweat, remembering the topic of conversation you'd been on. Gwen had given you the New York Times review of all the wild shit her and Miles had gotten up to since you last talked to her. You'd immediately learned that drunk Gwen has zero concept of propriety. "He is...the best, honestly," you deflect, but voice still deeply earnest. "I mean, can I ask for more than a handsome man with great hair who takes care of me when I'm sick, he even cleaned me up and—" "zzzzz, BORING!" Gwen shouts. She gives you a good-natured but maybe a tad too aggressive shove on the shoulder. "Skip to the good part, I want details!" "Gwen, I don't know if I should be—" you try to dissuade her. "Back when he was with Gayatri, we got trashed and she told me he was eating good, is that still true?" she whisper-growls with a saucy wink, in no way trying to lower the volume of her voice.

"Gwen!" you chide. Blood rushes piping hot to your face, heart absolutely banging off the walls of your chest. Gwen cackles maniacally and nearly spills her drink on your nice sofa. "Christ on a crutch, (You), your fucking face right now is precious! It's just a lil' girl talk, nothing here leaves this room, you get me?" she rambles. "Well, I mean, I wouldn't even know what to say about...about—" you stammer. "Oh come on! It's not like you're some kind of virgin or somethi—wait, holy shit, are you a virgin?" Gwen's eyes widen. You think she looks like a fish staring like that. "Oh my god, you're a virgin! That's so sweet!" she cooes at you. She reaches to pinch one of your cheeks. "No! No no no no, it's not like that! I'm not a virgin, definitely not, we just haven't—" you race to clarify, hands waving in front of your face. "Well what's the holdup, then? Are you guys trying to up the sexual tension? Are you saving yourselves for some special occasion or..." Gwen wonders aloud, before tapping her fingers together while her face morphs into a faux-dismayed expression. "You're not scared to be with him, are you?" "No way!" your rejection of the idea is immediate, emphatic. Gwen doesn't seem to have heard that, however, with the way she keeps on prattling.

"Like, I totally get it, he's Spider-Man, he's loaded, he's got some experience, he's really fucking attractive, that's intimidating and all for, like ninety-nine percent of everybody, but I promise he really wants to be with you too, you don't have to just fantasize when you—" "Gwennnnn, for Christ's sake, I do not fantasize about my boyfriend and—" you interrupt that very, very salacious thought. "What?! Why on Earth would you not? Who are you fantasizing to?? Is it Tom Holland??" Gwen questions in rapid-fire, face clearly scandalized. "What the fuck, Gwen. No," you deny. "I'm not fantasizing about any of these people, I'm not fantasizing, period." Gwen seems awfully confused by that statement. "But, how else is a girl supposed to get off by herself? I don't get it." You shrug your shoulders. "I don't know, I must be broken or something. I've never had an orgasm," you deadpan. "You what??" Gwen sits up ramrod straight, flabbergasted. "What?" a shocked third voice sounds outside the apartment. Followed immediately by a blur of red and blue at the window near your fire escape, and then a heavy crash. You and Gwen share an alarmed look for a moment. You can almost see the steam coming out of Gwen's ears, she marches over to the window, pulls it open, and with a terrifying force, yanks the eavesdropper into the apartment by the hair. "Ow, ow, shit!" the voice yelps. It's very familiar, you realize. Because it's your boyfriend. "Pavitr Prabhakar, you have five seconds to explain to me why in the fuck you were spying on our private conversation—" Gwen starts reading him the riot act. "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to..." Pavitr's groveling, apologies awkwardly spilling from his lips like a leaky P-trap. You don't stick around to hear them. You about-face and beeline to your room to curl up and die of mortification, only briefly stopping to consider that you just watched your seemingly-normal human friend drag a superhero into the apartment by the hair, like she might bring in a small bag of groceries. How much did he hear? Would he think worse of you? Did he hear Gwen talking about his— Nope, we're not doing this today.

You belly-flop onto the bed. Your pillow makes a great set of earmuffs, and doubles nicely as a dark cave to stick your head into while you hear Gwen and Pavitr arguing (more accurately, Gwen winning the argument in a one-sided fashion while your boyfriend tries and fails to form a coherent sentence) in the kitchen. Your head is spinning, dust kicking up from discussions put to the side for far too long that is now filling your lungs. You're not sure why you and him haven't talked about this, whether it was fear, nerves—

Was he scared of you?

You're not sure how long you're hiding there for, but there's one, two, three soft knocks, the squeal of your door-hinge, then, a dip in your mattress. You know it's Pavitr right away when you feel the soothing stroke of a hand on your upper arm.

"Can I hide under there too?" he softly asks.

The idea of your big, strong, superhero boyfriend being scared of Gwen Stacy makes you giggle (although it's not hard to be scare of Gwen Stacy, if you're honest with yourself). You lift the pillow up and make some room on the bed, he lays down on his side to face you, suit and all, save for his mask.

"I'm sorry if I said anything that was—" you begin.

"I'm sorry I was listening to your—" he talks across you.

You both pause. Pavitr sighs heavily and rubs his sore scalp.

"I deserved that," he admits.

"I'm not so sure you did. The direction that conversation was going was..." you trail off, you gesture vaguely in front of you, trying to communicate something to the effect of "cringe".

"You aren't broken," he says suddenly, determined.

You snap your head up to meet his eyes. They're serious and shine with resolve.

"I'm...I don't get it," you say.

"You're not broken for never having an orgasm. And I'm not convinced you can't," he explains.

You chew on the thought for a bit.

"I mean...I've tried on my own, until I just gave up. That sounds like a 'me' problem," you mumble.

"Look, I know you might not believe me, and I know you might not even be interested but..." Pavitr hesitates, runs his hand through his thick, black hair. "I'll give you one. Or as many as you want, I don't know. And I don't want you to worry about doing anything for me, or for anything to hurt, I just want...fuck, (You), my heart broke when I heard that," he admits. His mouth is wilted into a pained frown.

Your face droops, you hate the idea of sweet, sensitive Pavitr being sad on your account.

"Pav, I don't want to get your hopes up though, I feel bad already that with all of the—the bullshit in our lives I haven't taken the time to think about your own needs and—"

"No. You're the one who had three boyfriends that couldn't be assed with your needs, and were put in a situation where your choice was taken away from you, even though it didn't get anywhere," he cuts you off immediately with an open hand below your collarbone. "The only 'need' I have is the need to show you it can be so, so good when you're with someone who loves you. But only on your terms, only ever when you feel the time is right."

You feel the urge to turn away, but you can't resist Pavitr's puppy-dog eyes, the kind he gets when he sees a stray animal that he wants to adopt on the spot.

"You seem very invested in this," you tell him, like it's a strange idea. Should it be?

"I just wanna make my girl feel good" he cooes. He pulls your face against the hollow of his throat. "Hobie told you once that you could ask for whatever you damn-well wanted, and I wouldn't say no. He's not wrong, you know."

"So you are an eavesdropper!" you accuse him.

"Okay, the Amazing Spider-Man has a minor personality flaw, sue me," he snarks, but is sure to drop a kiss in your hair after the words leave his lips. "My point stands, though. If there's anything you ever wanted to try, I'd love to do it for you. That includes giving you your first orgasm. And your second, your third, your forty-eighth—"

"Forty-eight?" you gasp.

"That's really not that many!" he protests, which earns him a well-deserved flick to the forehead from you. "But, in any case, it's up to you. Like I told you when we first got together, all at your pace, sweet girl. If the thought strikes your fancy, just say the word."

"I'll think about it," you agree.

"That's all I can ask of you," he says, and brings your hand to his lips to kiss your palm.

---- The heat in Pavitr's room is stifling. The air conditioner isn't cutting it, you're in a tee and sleep shorts while he's shirtless in jeans, you only have the energy to watch an old sitcom on the bedroom TV while Pavitr works out the fatigue from your sore feet. You lay with your legs across his lap, hissing when the pad of his thumb digs in to your arch. "Darling, you have to start wearing actual shoes when doing big chores," he gently chastises you. "A slipper is a shoe," you argue back. Pavitr's thumb arcs up towards of the ball of your foot and you wince when he lands on a tender spot. "Your poor, abused feet don't seem to think so," he retorts. "Well, then you can make it better later with those magic hands of yours, mister 'I'm so good at everything'", you declare. Pavitr snickers, his thumbs find their way to the lower end of your calf, just above your ankle. "I'm good at a lot of things, dove, but not everything," he says in dulcet tones, one corner of his mouth quirked up just so. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's the perfect amount of pressure his hands are putting on your leg. Maybe it's the silky feel of his voice when it resonates in your ears. But today, you start to notice a difference. You feel...aware, like a deep itch, well below the layers of skin, muscle, fat. A thirst, yet, your mouth feels full and cottony from the humid air of the room. "You're very good with your hands," you praise. The knot in your leg dissipates, and he moves on, this time pressing at the outer side, halfway up near the heart of the muscle. You exhale as he draws slow, deep circles into the tension there, it's achy, but it's pleasant, too. Pleasant in a way that makes your legs twitch, something that Pavitr doesn't miss under his thumb. "So I've been told. Among some other things," he purrs. This tone has always brought you to your knees when he used it, and he knows it. Today, however, the shiver you feel isn't the same as the others, instead of a nervous, delighted tickle, it curves lower, warmer, lingers a bit beneath your ribcage in a thick haze.

Pavitr lifts your leg by the calf, places an open-mouthed kiss over the imprint his thumb left there. Then, a second one next to it, intentional, calculated. The stuffiness of the room is so much you think you could scoop it into a glass and drink. "Pav..." you murmur. It's a little bit questioning, a little bit commanding, a little bit hesitant. The show's laugh track rings obnoxious in the background. "Sonu...you should take me up on that offer," he suggests. Or is it pleading? "...Right now?" you gulp. You can feel your pulse in your voicebox. "If you wanna," he affirms. "You don't need to do anything, just relax and...enjoy." The juncture of your thighs starts to feel uncomfortably sticky against the fabric of your shorts, you fight the urge to press them together. "What did you have in mind?" you inquire. Pavitr rolls over to kiss at your shin, then the inside of your knee before crawling up your body to level with your ear, you can feel his breath tickling the shell. "I think Gwen mentioned to you that I'm happiest when I'm eating well," he husks directly into it, and then traces the inner rim of it with the very point of his tongue. You shiver from the contact, from his words, the way they felt so close to your skin, or the teasing of his tongue, you're not sure which. You're definitely pressing your thighs together now. "Good luck with that. It's been tried, and hasn't worked," you warn him. You hate the idea of him doing all that hard work for no reward. Pavitr is nonplussed, he takes your face in hand to kiss you slow, beginning the dance you know well by now. "Did whoever was trying give you head for its own sake? Or were they trying to butter you up with oral so they could say they did before doing what they wanted?" he asks pointedly, one eyebrow quirked. You don't have to think about it for very long, you've never been given this on its own. Only before sex, and it'd be difficult to argue they were into it, or trying particularly hard to please you. "You're probably right. I don't think they were trying too hard at all. But I should have felt...something, right?" you wonder. Pavitr sighs and sadly shakes his head. "There's a world of difference if someone really wants take their time and make you feel good, instead of just half-assing it so you'll give in. It also helps to have...skill, which I can promise you, I have plenty of," he slips you a wink and licks his lips, and the subsequent jolt of thrill makes your core twitch. "All you need to know is that this is for you. I wanna give you oral because I love you, dammit. No strings, no bullshit, just very, very good head. I'll give you the best orgasm of your life, and it's going to be amazing. Sound good?" You worry your lip with your canine, thighs squeezing together at the image he's planted in your head. Pavitr waits for your reply patiently, he's not leering, his expression is fond, gentle. He's never led you astray before, so he wouldn't now, right? Right? "But...if I can't?" you trail off, leaving Pavitr to fill in the blank. He does, with ease, one hand takes yours and gives it a soft squeeze. "If something's not working for you, we can change it. If it doesn't happen today, then no hard feelings, we'll go back to what we were doing. Even if you don't orgasm, sex can still feel really good in and of itself," two of his long, elegant fingers walk along your arm while he talks, voice even and mellow. "And when you feel done, we'll be done. It's like a conversation, we go down a line, and change the topic when it feels right to," he explains, kisses your knuckles on the back of your hand. "I think I can get you there, I think you just weren't given a fair shake and need someone to actually try. But if it doesn't happen, we can try again another time. Or never, you're wonderful all the same." You exhale through pursed lips. "Okay, I'd like to try at least," you acquiesce. Pavitr nudges your chin with his hand. "Do you want to try? Or do you just feel like you should because I asked?"

You understand immediately what he's asking. His eyes are soft, but stern, he scans your face for any sign you are simply appeasing him, rather than agreeing of your own enthusiasm. He's searching for fear and apprehension where there should be desire, curiosity. You don't think you've ever been asked this, and while you can't say your past experiences were ever coerced, save for the circumstances under which you and Pavitr met, you're grateful that he's thinking of this.

"I do want to," you confirm. "I'm...nervous that I'll be disappointed again, but what you're offering feels different from what it's been like...before. You've never given me any reason not to trust you, and I'm ready to try if it's with you."

You smile up at your boyfriend, and Pavitr seems satisfied with this answer. His eyes darken further than the rich cocoa they already are, and he leans in to kiss your mouth deeply, explores every ridge, every surface of it with his tongue, a little preview of his repertoire.

"I am going to eat you up so well, for hours," he rasps directly into your ear, leaving you shuddering, getting even wetter at the seam of your shorts. "On my bed, on the kitchen counter, in my car, on my desk at work after everyone's gone home, every damn day if I have to until you come on my tongue. You deserve that much, dove." His lips ghost on the shell, then along the hollow of your throat, where he leaves gentle, slow little nips and sucks while he crawls back down your body.

You have enough sense to turn off the television before he's back over your legs, kisses and suckles getting closer and closer to the hem of your sleep shorts. Your breaths catch and stutter, each little contact a sweet torture that leaves you jumping under his mouth, your center grows slicker and you'd think he could smell you from here.

And then, to your surprise, he stops. He reaches behind you for one of the pillows.

"Lift your hips a bit for me, darling," he instructs, the tone of his voice honey-sweet.

You comply, confused, and he slides the pillow beneath them.

"What's this for?" you ask.

Pavitr grins brightly and plops a smooch on one kneecap.

"So my girlfriend is comfy, of course!" he says in a voice almost inappropriately upbeat for the situation.

Your heart melts at this thoughtfulness, never has anyone you know associated the word "comfy" with sex, but with someone as attentive as Pavitr, you're learning things can be different. Maybe those words should go together, you think.

Pavitr's nails catch on the waistband of your sleep shorts, they pause there.

"Yes?" he asks, looks to you for your assent through the dark curtain of his fringe.

You're frozen in time when you meet his eyes. It's not a particularly hard choice. It's easy enough to say no, sorry you're not ready for that. Or even ask if you can reschedule to next Wednesday, maybe work it in between the gym and your dentist appointment. He'd be happy to drop it and continue doing what you were doing, wait a hundred years if he had to. What sways you is when you meet his rich, coffee-colored eyes and there's no

want I want gimme give it lemme grab tug squeeze grab take have

You're so used to that by now. No, these eyes are soft, round, curious, even. Curious to know this part of you, to share this with you, a whispered secret on the breath of butterfly wings. To give you something that was always denied, see the way your face would light up when you got there. By the look on his face, you knew Pavitr wasn't lusting after you and what was under the shorts, no, he wanted to try, and you knew that he'd only ever try if it was for you.

"Yes," you affirm. There's no warble in the note of your voice.

Pavitr grins, lazily and closed-mouthed, hooks his fingers around the elastic and starts working the whole thing down in one shot, shorts and underwear all. Warm lips press to the bony cradle just above your mound, your hips twitch under their smack.

"Thank you for trusting me with your body, sweet girl," he says. "I promise you, you will not regret this."

The shorts are worked over your knees, your ankles, and then they're off. Your knees drop off to the sides, you ponder closing them for a moment, covering yourself up like the shy virgin you once were all that time ago. That thought doesn't get a chance to linger, as sloppy, sucking kisses are quickly alternating up your inner thighs, firm enough not to tickle, but enough for the muscle to tense beneath Pavitr's mouth with a yelp, the sensitive spot a direct line to your exposed core.

"Aanhh—" you whine as Pavitr gets closer and closer to where you'd really like him to be. He does get awfully close, the rounded point of his nose bumping against the juncture of your hip and thigh, the corner of his mouth brushing the curve of your vulva as he inhales, smiles. Suddenly, the really nice pressure is sadly gone, Pavitr's propped up on his elbows and gazing down between your legs, while you're slack-jawed huffing and puffing from arousal.

"You're really pretty here," he husks. He mouths at the soft swell just below your navel with deep mauve-colored lips, lets warmth curl up there.

"Why are you staring?" you whinge, averting your eyes.

"Why not? This part of you is divine," Pavitr waxes poetic. "And you deserve to be told as much, because it doesn't sound like you've been hearing it."

"Umm...thanks? I guess?" you sputter, incredulously. You want to shrink away from the compliment, but your boyfriend (your insufferable sap of a boyfriend) isn't having it.

"Shush, you," he jokingly chides, his breath hot against your delicate flesh. "Go away. Let me explain to my girlfriend that her pussy is perfect in peace."

"Pavitr, you're obnoxio—oh FUCK!" your words are cut off with a cry as your entire cunt is swallowed up in a sucking kiss, like the ones Pavitr had dotted along your thighs. There's nothing lazy or perfunctory about this, the suction is just right and there's nothing like the way his soft lips feel sliding against your intimate skin. He pops off with a wet, lewd smack that rebounds around the bedroom.

Pavitr snickers lowly at your reaction, and turns his head to take each of your lower lips between his, run his tongue along and beside the soft, fatty parts before delicately suckling the inner lips betwixt them. His next kiss finishes with a deep lick, one that parts your lower lips at the seam and makes you jump when a wet tongue brushes past your clit.

"Good?" he asks, an inquisitive arch on his brow as he attempts to get a glimpse of your face. His mouth doesn't leave your pussy, simply ghosts against it when he speaks. It's a hint of a touch that makes you prickle, teeny frissons along your spine from your core that sprout behind your ears.

"Very," you tell him, nodding furiously, hoping that will spur him to get on with it.

Pavitr smears a messy, affectionate kiss to the inside of your left thigh before securing his hands on the crests of your hips.

"Love you," he purrs. He nuzzles against the inner thigh with his cheek before returning to his work.

Pavitr treats you to a make-out session with your lower lips, his tongue and lips exploring every dip and curve he can find. Every flick, kiss, suck, even gentle tugs between his teeth carries intention, you can feel the weight of it in each stroke. This is not the same halfhearted attempts at the pretense of 'doing his part' you're used to, he's losing himself to the task, eyes fluttered shut behind the ebony drape of his hair as he drinks you down. It's the same way he moves his mouth when he takes a bite out of a ripe mango, your wetness dripping down his chin when he slurps on your sex. "Pavi....Pav...hah..." you wheeze. Your chest heaves in harsh breaths as a delicious, gentle heat stretches out low in your belly and finds a home there. Your boyfriend steadily continues to make love to you with his mouth, you can't resist locking your ankles together atop his upper back, he responds in turn by scooching your hips just that little bit closer, wanting as close to zero space between his tongue and your intimate flesh as possible. "Your taste, it's sofuckengood, fuck," Pavitr slurs into your cunt. You notice him shifting around just out of your field of vision. Is he...rutting his hips into the bed? Pavitr licks straight up your seam on the flat of his tongue, ends with a suck on your clit that's enough to pull it out of its hood. A sharp bolt of pleasure triggers your cunt to clench around nothing. "Holyshitholyshitdontstop" you babble to the room. Your feet kick out behind him, your hand that was bunching up the flat sheet flies to his shade-colored waves, tangles in the dense mop of hair to hold his face against your pussy. "That's the plan, dove," Pavitr rasps. He gets right back to it, delivering the same treatment to every part of your pussy. The two-o'-clock sunlight streams in rich sheafs through the window, it leaves amber dapples on his back that bend and stretch with every flex of his well-developed back muscles, they collect in the valley of his spine, the two little dimples that sit above his waistband.

This? This is nice. It's nice like this, the both of you laying here, embraced by the mid-day sun. Pleasure laps at you like waves at low tide, it's warm, warm like the sand between your toes. Your boyfriend is taking your pussy apart with his mouth, the touch of his tongue isn't teasing, neither harsh, nor lazy. It's earnest, steady, and oh is it affectionate, too. He's not here to pay some sort of toll or fee to access your body, he's basking in how wet you're getting for him, the plush of your skin against his lips, your heady scent, the sharpness of your flavor on his tongue. Pavitr's mouth cherishes this entire part of you the same way he does to the rest of you with his words. He's in no hurry, but he has no intention of making you beg or plead for your first release, he simply wishes to take you by the hand and lead you there, walk you to the door and kiss you goodnight at the threshold of a place you didn't believe existed. He knows the way, has learned the road well, and guides you there with no fuss. Yes, you think, this is nice. It starts out as a fullness, a pressure on the inside that makes you want to tighten up, squeeze around it and keep it from getting out. The pleasure sitting heavy in your belly becomes urgent, it sinks low, low, lower. The sensation is strangely familiar to you, but it's off. You feel like you're about to burst, about to— "Pavitr, stop, I'm gonna—I have to—" you reach with your free hand to stop him. Pavitr finds your hand with one of his, takes it and laces your fingers together.

"Hey. No, sweet girl, this is good. You're supposed to feel that. It means you're here," he explains, gives his head a shake so you can meet his eyes without his hair in the way. A thumb strums back and forth along the dorsum of your hand. "All you have to do is let it ride. I'll catch you, I always have," he reassures. Your head feels like it's full of bees, it feels like there's a water balloon sitting low in the cradle of your pelvis, it's scary, it's intimate, but you want more. "You promise?" you ask timidly. It seems silly to ask this of him, but you do anyway. Pavitr responds with a kiss, the softest one yet, to your lower lips. "Baby girl, I'd promise you everything," he almost growls into your pussy.

Pavitr renews his focus onto your clit, taking it between his lips and tracing upon it the outlines of flower petals with his tongue. He sups on you, over and over again, batters your pearl about with the point of his tongue, coaxing it out from its protective cloak with a please please oh please pretty please. He does not demand, he waits, arms outstretched. The fullness and urgency quickly returns, you clench down, breath held instinctively. You can't hold it anymore, you yank on his hair, and he moans into your vulva when he feels the sharp twinge on his scalp. You feel like you're going to pop and his face is right there eating you and he said he'd catch you and he's holding your hand when you pav pav pav please oh please pav i have to It's warm here The molten heat nested below your navel loses its shape, pours like molasses down your legs, between your ribs, to the points of your fingers and burbles at your throat. Warm, sticky, wet, spilling out of your core in a steady trickle. Your voice catches in a sigh, the floor of your ribcage drops as the tension eases away in a steady throb, you feel it in your cunt as Pavitr keeps on drawing mindless doodles over your clit with his mouth. It's not fireworks, it's not an explosion, it's sunrise on the roof, three o' clock on the beach in July, it's hot chocolate in December, sticky sweet affection poured into you through your sex and spilling out over the edges. It's a safe place, a joyful place, bubbly, bright, and warm. A place, a home he built for you beneath your skin, in a grove you've been too wary, too exhausted to claim as your own. He presses the key into your palm, at long last, and you are all too happy to invite him inside, in that space between your ribs. Your eyes flutter shut as a gentle tongue laps slowly, soothingly at your swollen flesh, cleans up your release as you give yourself over to the ebb of the tide. Lips tenderly trail up your mound, your navel, your sternum, your nose. Hands cup your face as the lips find purchase on your forehead, your unfocused eyes open to fuzzy strokes of bronze, charcoal, ivory. "Yes, Ahava, hello. Hi," Pavitr purrs. Your eyes adjust, the blotches of color wend into a familiar form, and there he is. He's positively glowing, both with a fondness and pride, not of himself, but for you, like he's swallowed down the sun itself. His chin and mouth bear a fine gloss from your wetness. "Whazzat? Pav?" you burble, your tongue fumbling with the words. You find that you've been curiously transformed into a pile of mush, your corporeal form broken free of its solid container.

Your boyfriend chuckles above you, and brushes a few downy hairs off your forehead where sweat holds them down.

"How's that orgasm treating you?" he smugly inquires. "...S'nice," you slur, not quite realizing how dopey your face must look. "Kinda feels like I have to pee." Pavitr covers his mouth with his hands to hide his laughter. "Alright, well, you hang tight and enjoy the afterglow, beautiful. I just need two seconds to take care of something real quick," he says. You watch as he reaches over the side of the bed and fishes around for something. "Where are you going?" you ask, a wave of sadness and worry coming over you, remembering past partners who would never stay when the act was said and done, leaving you to your feelings. "Nowhere, silly," he teases, tongue stuck out. "Just gotta make a wardrobe adjustment, then all the snuggles you can handle, I promise." You find yourself unable to reply when he works his jeans off of his hips, and the boxer-briefs with them. The tips of your ears heat up like a gas grill when you're given a generous glimpse of prominent hip bones, lithe, defined quads, and an absolutely sumptuous ass that makes your mouth water, you resist the urge to sink your teeth into it. "Hey, Pavitr, I can, 'yanno, return the favor," you offer. "Oh, that won't be necessary," he quickly replies as he skips the boxer briefs and pulls on a pair of sweats he'd left on the floor. A hint of something you can't put your finger on tinges the timbre of his voice, and that's when you notice the flush in his cheeks. Oh.

"Pav...did you...?" you hesitate to say it out loud, your brain refusing to form the words. Pavitr crawls up the bed next to you, immediately rewarding you with the tightest, most perfect snuggle he's ever given you. You're face to face, noses but a hair's breadth apart. "As a matter of fact, I did," he admits, turning his cheek into the pillow. "Knowing I was giving you this experience and seeing how much you were enjoying it, it was so damn erotic and I couldn't help but go off the edge with you. Imagine that, being the woman that made Spider-Man come in his pants by just being." "Well, I'm glad I could do that for you," you jape. Your head feels less foggy, the afterglow abating to something cozy and secure, nicely contained in Pavitr's hold. "I'm glad I could do this for you," he counters with a tap of a finger to your nose. "This was all for you, anyway, you owe me nothing. I knew you could do it, and I'm so proud of you. You just needed a patient hand. Or tongue," he winks. "You're insufferable," you groan, burying your head against his bare chest. Pavitr chortles and kisses the top of your head. "I'm talented. And I have many, many orgasms to make up for," he rebukes. His voice feels like silk, it's dripping with ego and it makes your mouth go dry. "Hopefully they're all like this one was. I keep hearing that it's supposed to be...erm...explosive, but this one was just...nice," you comment. Pavitr considers this a moment, and then you know you fucked up when you see his lips quirk into a wicked grin, a devilish gleam in his eye as one hand tightens its grip around your bare hip. "I see...say, I don't think I ever returned the favor for that upside down kiss you gave me when we met," he muses aloud. "No, I don't believe you did," you confirm, wondering where he's going with this. "Oh..." he rises to a kneel on the bed, the covers falling away to expose your calves. "Then I guess now might be a good time to do just that," he proposes.

"What do you mean by tha—ohgod!" you yip, as Pavitr uses his enhanced strength to pull you down the bed by your ankles, and then hoist your thighs all the way up to his ears, his hands settling on your hips. You're nearly suspended entirely upside-down and he's immediately ravaging your sensitive cunt with this mouth, lewd smacks rebound around the room as the blade of his tongue digs deep between your lower lips. "Jesus fuck, Pav, why are you so good at everything?" you whine, your heels thumping against his back, an expression of the pleasure rapidly coursing through your body. Pavitr doesn't reply to this, only hums an acknowledgement into your pussy. At this angle, the extra pressure from his face on your clit does a lot of work, and being manhandled by your superhero boyfriend like a ragdoll...yes please. His fingers curl into the flesh of your thighs, his lips lathe aggressively at your inner lips and clit, you can only watch as he pulls his head up just enough to tug at them with a firm suck that makes something deep in your core light up like Christmas, and then releases them with a salacious pop before going right back in to swallow, to consume, to lap you up until there's nothing left to. Pavitr's playing for keeps this time, he's not looking for a gentle release, he wants to give you the orgasm you've only heard about in stories, one that knocks you on your ass that you'll still feel the next morning. He's nothing if not a show-off, and that trait of his is on full display.

"Pavitr Prabhak—ah!" you moan, your legs flailing behind him. "You smug jackass! It's not faaaaaaair!"

Your kicking and screaming (literally) does nothing. Pavitr doesn't let up, his lips and tongue devour and his face smashes into your pussy in relentless pursuit of your climax. You squirm, but his mouth chases, and with you upside down in what you would have never expected the Spider-Man kiss to entail, you're helpless to stop it, vulnerable and ripe for the taking. But you're safe. Cared for. Loved. You can feel it in how his grip on you is gentle enough to leave no marks, the way his thumbs stroke over the skin there. The way he bends forward just enough to keep your head and shoulders on the pillow so you won't hit them on anything, or get dizzy. This scene is filthy, pornographic even with his athleticism, but as your second peak of the night comes hurtling at you, neither of you have ever felt more in love than you do right now. You have trusted him with your body in all ways like you rarely have before, and he's more than shown you he's worthy.

You come with a shout, you clench hard on empty space until you can't, it feels like a sneeze, an insane blossom of pure ecstasy from your center that blooms in a riot of red, pink, yellow, orange behind your eyelids. You feel your cunt gushing, squirting even, followed by an immense relief. Your heart pounds in your ears, your ribcage struggles to expand and contract with your breathing, it feels like you're flying, soaring in the wind. There's a fizzling, tickling feeling creeping along your arms and legs and worming its way into your brain, your pussy feels aflame, overtaxed despite the calming strokes Pavitr is now using to soak up your juices. Your abs feel sore, and you feel physically and emotionally drained, the overstimulation hits all at once, and—are you crying?

"Awww little love, it's okay. Come here, darling, I've gotcha, shhhh," Pavitr's voice breaks through the swell of emotions frothing in your chest, he sets your legs down and bundles you close beneath the blankets. "You've been through a lot of new things today, sonu. You're overwhelmed, it's completely normal and your mind just needs a minute to sort itself out," he explains, you turn your head to see all traces of mischief gone from it, only soft features remain. The flat of a hand drags up and down your spine, warm lips dot squishy kisses along your cheek and temple. "I—I thought I was broken," you blubber. "I've been trying for years." "Not broken at all, no ma'am, I even double checked," he quips with a wink. It makes you snort and you can't stop yourself from swatting his chest. "You simply hadn't been shown how sex is supposed to be: none of it works if you're not feeling safe or secure first," he says more seriously. The blunt edges of his nails slowly drag along your back, scratching carefully, it's deeply satisfying and it makes you feel calm.

"So you're saying I couldn't for so long because...I wasn't feeling safe?" you ask, past memories starting to click into place.

"Mmm, precisely so," Pavitr hums. An unhurried kiss is fluttered against your lips, the flavor a bit different than the ones before, you wonder if it's you that you're tasting. "Sex is art, dove. It doesn't just come down to technique, if your mind is worried or not feeling cared for, you're not going to be able to be vulnerable with yourself enough to feel good, or your partner, for that matter. Your partner needs to be invested in your experience, and not as a means to an end for them," he explains, his nose nuzzling yours now. "That means taking the time to make you comfortable, listening to you and instead of rushing you through, and for fuck's sake, they need to give proper aftercare, Jesus," he finishes his rant with a grumble. The protective hold around you tightens, cuing you to snuggle closer into your boyfriend.

"Aftercare...is that why I got upset when an ex went to play video games when we were done?" you ask, everything suddenly making so much more sense.

Pavitr shudders and pulls you even closer, if that were possible, you burrow into his chest. Your legs tangle together under the blanket as he kisses the space between your eyebrows.

"Oh my God, why are men like this," he mumbles under his breath. "Yes, aftercare is making sure your partner is feeling okay and safe after you're done. Sex is intense, physically and emotionally, and if they weren't making the effort to take care of you like this after, it's no wonder you didn't have any fond memories of it. I hate that those were your first experiences, but that will never happen again, I can promise you that."

"Oh...so right now, this...this is aftercare?" you ask shyly. You think it sounds silly at your big age to be asking this, but since you're both putting everything on the table, you might as well learn for the future.

Pavitr senses the discomfort and tips your chin up to meet his eyes. They're still sparkling, but carry a stern edge to them.

"Hey, there are no dumb questions with me," he firmly reassures, his eyes softening further. "Yes, this is one way aftercare can look. It can also mean things like...like rubbing their back, or watching a movie they like together. Maybe even taking a bath with them or giving them a massage, just little things to reassure them and help them come down gently from an intense moment. It's the best part, in my book," he purrs.

You're inclined to agree. You're all tuckered out, your limbs have definitely turned to jelly with no chance of reconstitution, you feel buzzy on the inside in the best way, and it's warm and toasty here under the blankets, tangled up together, his bare skin on your cheek. You're basking in each other's afterglow and he's lavishing as much affection on you as he's got to offer, there's nothing closer, nothing better than this. Well, except maybe one thing...

"Can we...can we take a bath too?" you suggest, uncertainly.

Pavitr scrunches up his round nose as his eyes wrinkle at the corners.

"You act like I'd say no to that. Of course we can, dove!" he exclaims. "You're the one who had her first two orgasms in a row, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't let you pick?" he's already hefting himself off the bed to carry you there himself.

"Together with me?" you kiss at the juncture of his shoulder and neck, all you can reach from his hold, your feet dangle limply in the bridal carry. Pavitr looks down on you with a besotted expression.

"I like the sound of that," he cooes in your ear as you cross the room. "And I wanna wash your hair with my shampoo again, I loved smelling it on you the next morning."

"But Pav, your shampoo is expensive!" you protest.

"You just had a screaming orgasm, like, ten minutes ago, let me spoil you at least a little," he counters. He nudges the door open where it's ajar with a hip check, being sure not to jostle you.

"That's already spoiling me!" you argue.

Pavitr laughs, deeply kisses your mouth like he did your center, and closes the bathroom door behind him with his heel.

[itsclydebitches]

BG3 Fic Prompts

I am once again creating a massive document of fics I want to write, to be updated whenever. This is 50% me keeping track of ideas, 25% giving the fandom ideas if they want to steal, and 25% pure entertainment.

“She looks like she could throw me over her shoulder and carry me to safety.” Six times Karlach carried a party member and one time the whole group returned the favor. Bonus points if carrying her is pre-insulation upgrade so they have to get creative and/or sacrificial about it.

~

Similarly, Karlach/Character of Choice in a Pushing Daisies-esque situation, except on steroids. It’s not just that they can’t touch her, they’ll actively burn themselves if they get too close (so no easy kiss-through-Saran-Wrap solutions). They make it work though through the power of love, magic, and a fuck-ton of stubbornness. Ideas can differ greatly depending on who the partner of choice is. Example: Lae’zel toughing it out while Shadowheart curses and sprints to heal her; Astarion leaning into his flirty cad side: “Gale? Summon me a mage hand so I can slap that ass.”

~

Because the Gale romance bug remains one of my favorite things: angsty fic where he—in true BG3 fashion—misinterprets the most basic, bare-bones decency as love because he’s a) been groomed by a goddess since he was a boy and then abandoned by her in a way that makes him feel completely worthless and b) locked in a tower for a year+ with only his cat for company. Writer’s choice whether this results in Tav rejecting Gale and leaving him with the bittersweet realization that they may not Love him, but they do love him and this helps forward Gale’s recovery. OR

Narrator: Lying awake that night, you think back on your talk with Gale. He looked so handsome in the candlelight, even while devastated by your rejection, and you dwell on how unfortunate it is that you don’t return his romantic feelings.

Hmm…or do you?

Oh dear.

~

That Githyanki egg is going to hatch if it’s the last thing I do, even if it’s only in fic. Cue the absolute chaos of this found family/polycule parenting. You’d think Lae’zel would be some help in this but no. She’s not. She’s really, really not. (Doctor McCoy voice: “I’m a warrior not a creche tender!”) What do they feed the thing? Who gets to decide their name? How young is too young to start teaching them to wield a dagger? Spoilers: Withers is a surprisingly good babysitter and the only one with a braincell to draw on.

Wyll: I want a baby

Astarion: Give me a week. What color?

Tav, walking in with acid burns and a panicked Lae’Zel: You got green

~

More Gale angst because I’m trash: Yeah, yeah literally everyone in this party is hella touch-starved but this boy has a year of isolation on top of a kicked puppy personality hidden under that arrogant bravado. Astarion plays his needs off with charm and a supposed obsession with sex, Wyll and Karlach distract with cheer, Shadowheart and Lae’zel stoically power through… and then there’s Gale who’s going to get teary-eyed at the first clasp of his shoulder. Character of Choice gives him a hug one night and he just breaks. Full on sobbing, hyperventilating, holy-shit-this-is-embarrassing-but-now-that-I’ve-started-I-can’t-stop breakdown that’s exactly what he needs. Halsin might be a good choice for this.

~

Forced Lae’zel / Shadowheart bonding via the specific experience of two abused ex-cult members figuring out what kindness looks like.

Lae’zel: Tchk. I failed our leader in battle and they say only, ‘We’ll try again next time’? If this were a githyanki camp my blood would have dyed their armor red tonight.

Shadowheart: Indeed. The disciples of Lady Shar never would have stood for such indolence. There are no beatings for failing to rise with the sun and no one monitoring our rations. Gale gave me thirds last night!

Lae’zel: Why then do I… prefer this weakness?

Shadowheart: Worse, why do I agree with you?

~

I want to give my companions presents! Six times Tav gives a party member something they love—a githyanki tablet for Lae’zel, good wine for Wyll, etc.—and one time they give Tav something back. Or, alternatively, one time Tav refrains from giving a gift and the recipient ends up appreciating that even more. Example: not letting Shadowheart get ahold of any Dark Justiciar armor.

~

Obligatory “Astarion is insecure about not being able to see his reflection and someone helps him with magic/drawing” fic that I may or may not be working on atm.

~

Equally obligatory The Last Unicorn reference where Asatrion has a rage-driven breakdown, screaming at Tav for not being this selfless hero when he needed them. Everyone ignores the realities that, you know, Tav probably hadn’t even been born yet, because they understand that Astarion just needs to Let It Out. This segues into reassurances that they’ll be there for Astarion in the future. End fic. Sike! Plot twist. The party winds up in the past due to plot shenanigans and are like, “Holy shit. We can rescue Astarion.” Except it turns out they can’t because that would totally fuck with the timeline (idk if that’s actually the case in D&D. I just watch a lot of Doctor Who), but they’re at least able to assist him in some small way/comfort him/give him hope for the next 100+ years. They wind up back in their own time where Astarion suddenly realizes that the absolutely insane, weird-as-balls group he met a century ago and whose kindness he's been leaning his sanity on is his group and there are ~emotions~.

~

Hurt/Comfort Bloodweave fic where Astarion, as the rogue, does the best job of finding (read: stealing) items for Gale to feed on. He’s really good at it, to the point that when they get together he starts to fear that’s the main reason why Gale is ‘bothering’ to stay with him. After all, what the hells else does he have to offer? Especially now that he’s pulling back from sex as a primary incentive? Someone loving Astarion for who he is? Absurd. Someone needing Astarion’s talents to keep themselves fed? That he understands. That’s familiar. Cue Gale cycling through obliviousness (necessary intervention from another party member?), horror, and finally reassurance.

~

Wyll teaches the party to dance one night when they’re all bored. Bonus points if Astarion is insulted af because his moves from two centuries ago aren’t cool anymore. Bonus bonus points if Withers turns out to be really good.

~

Honestly, I feel like we’ve been sleeping on Withers in general. Granted, I haven’t finished the game yet so I’m sure there’s stuff that hasn’t been revealed to me yet, but he’s a skeleton that randomly appears in your camp, makes himself at home, changes reality for you provided you've got the funds, tuts about your love life, and is surprisingly good with kids. There’s so much potential in that.

~

“I hate this place. I want to go to Build a Bear!” Total crack fic featuring the Faerûn equivalent of Build a Bear: a kindly toymaker with lots of simple stuffed animals that he’ll personalize for you with clothes, accessories, embroidery, etc. Karlach has the time of her life (as does everyone else, even if they won’t admit it).

[etrevil]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks....

So sorry for the late answer!

1. Athanasia de Alger Obelia (Who Made Me A Princess)

First hyperfixation, the manhwa I saw from start to finish. Art is just absolutely beautiful and I've been attached from the very start. Her character arc surrounding her father, Claude, had me clutching my pearls and sobbing my eyes out.

2. Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Strongest hyperfixation on the series yet. There's a certain feel I get whenever I see or read content about him. Do I relate to him? Concerningly. But it's the sort of connectedness I feel when reading what Odasaku thinks of Dazai and me agreeing and being called out half of the time lol. Lastly, he's just so pretty.

3. Chuuya Nakahara (Bungou Stray Dogs)

This man's backstory has me in a chokehold. He's gone through so much shit but, compared to other characters, he remains a "good" man. Such a complex character I can't get enough of tbh. Asagiri really paired the donut man and one of the most beautiful written characters together and I love it/pos. Lastly, also very pretty. Imagining him together with Dazai, whether platonic or romantic, is also a treat.

4. Wilbur Soot (dsmp, qsmp, general yt)

His content just, helped me get through quarantine. Also his songs are just bangers, and Lovejoy is one of my top favorite bands next to The Neighborhood.

5. Kim Dokja (Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint)

One of the first Korean novels I've ever read and finished. He is just such a well-done character, and ORV as a story in general should become a literary classic (in my humble opinion). The way he seeks comfort in a story and is willing to stay until its very end, I relate to that so much, and I just feel for this tragedy-surrounded man. I wish only the best for him and his company.

6. Cale Henituse (Trash of the Count's Family)

I remember reading the novel in its early stages and waking up for school, to then eat cereal and slowly finish reading what's been published in the dim light. Haven't touched the second book yet, but the first book was just, woah. Amazing. Rollercoaster ride. Our young lord really should start looking out for his health more, everyone's so worried.

7. Han Sooyoung (Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint)

Her story arc of being an antagonist, to the third member of their trio, and [spoiler], was an absolute blast. Her character was written with such a personality she touched my heart with her spunk and gentle care towards her friends. What she's done for KDJ is absolutely what tore my heart out. She deserves so much. They all do. Speaks even more to me since I'm a writer. Love her with all my heart <3.

8. Achilles (Greek Mythos, the Song of Achilles)

He amuses me. His rage, his reactions, the slaughter he made across the battlefield, and the way he eventually died. The fact we have historical evidence from a vase that people back then saw him rolled up into a blanket burrito during his sulking period. That he sent out one of his "closest" men in his own armory and grew enraged (understatement) when he returned as a corpse. I just, love him. Words cannot explain how I hold him, and Patroclus, to a high regard in my heart.

9. Tallulah (qsmp)

Best egg child to ever exist. Second is Chayanne. The admin for this character just stole us from the very start. Deserves a thousand bamboo flutes.

10. Ayna and Ranonthean (Secret Lady)

Might be considered cheating but these two are a couple and the toxicity cannot exist without the other. The slow unfurling of how their love story that led to the actual FL and ML's current predicament (read the story it's so good) absolutely rocked my shit. Like, omfg their children. Her family. Fate itself. I wanna sock Fate in the face. They're in love, but their love cannot thrive in a place like that. At least not for long. And it shows; the chapter this image is from, side story 11, has me by the throat. Banana-nim's art just makes everything better. They're relatively good for each other, but because of the situations forced on them, shit happens. Doomed by the narrative indeed.

Special manhwa couple mentions:

Angela and Rayburn, "I Stan the Prince"

Penelope and Callisto, "Death is The Only Ending for the Villainess"

Ines and Carcel, "This Marriage was Bound to Fail Anyway"

Shuri and Nora, "Stepmother's Marchen"

Eris and Anakin, "Kill The Villainess"

Raeliana and Noah, "Why Raeliana Ended Up at the Duke's Manor"

[dracocheesecake]

I’ve been lowkey stalking your page cause with the new KFP movie coming so too has my love for Kai. He’s just. HE’S SO?! HE’s so bro he is so-

Not even just like RAUGH. As a character he has so much depth and there’s so many things you can explore about him (as you’ve done, I think Yuelong is so wonderful!!), I love his personality, his place in the story as what happens when both Yin and Yang are left unchecked for so long and they need to clash to better remind themselves who they are. And of course his voice is just sooooo, both his voice and his design is just…sheesh 😮‍💨 (thank you J.K simmonssssss) he’s so perfect gaugh.

Anyways, thank you for being like one of the sole content providers for this man, if I had time, I’d start writing my own x reader’s for him. But all the rambling aside, I was wondering what you think the dynamic would be like with him as a Spirit Warrior and like a wandering, stubborn ram with a spiritual streak who could like astral project to and fro between the mortal realm and the spirit realm. Her visits aren’t too long in the spirit realm, but enough to explore the place, and probably accidentally sneak into Kai’s place of residence.

Cause I can only imagine Kai’s shock and bewilderment at someone in his space that seems…out of place? They have swords do they expect to threaten him, seriously? Why is their chi like that?

Yes yes yes I agree I agree he is so very much RUUGGHHHSHSHDGSHEHWHW 💚💚💚

Hemhem- anyway, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I'm so happy that my content has fed someone else as much as it has fed me lol. I had to make the content I wanted to see in the world, and that was of this guy XD.

Thank you so much for reading and liking my stuff! He was absolutely a character full of potential that is actually really fun to explore!

Now that question:

I think Kai would be extremely surprised to see someone that's well...there, but not quite. Someone in the Spirit Realm, but not dead and not a mortal somehow transported there...or at least, not physically transported there. Where is the chi that he can take?- There's only this ephemeral veil of it before him, but infuriatingly out of his reach. How dare you dangle this chi in front of him and not even be decent enough to actually be there for him to take it! Oh please, swords- what are you going to do, goatie ghostie? Poke him with them?- As if.

I think past his initial bewilderment he would start mocking her, trying to goad her into actually appearing physically, or just to annoy her to amuse himself and pay her back for the annoyance she unwittingly caused him. He even threatens her a few times, telling her that once he gets out of the Spirit Realm- and he will, it's only a matter of when- he'll track her down. He's reserving a spot for her on his belt.

And when he does break free of his exile in the Spirit Realm, and does track down her physical form...well, I'll leave that to you. ;)

-OK, OK, no- no, you know what? I can just imagine what happens when Kai finally actually does make his way to where she actually is. Just...I have it so vividly ingrained in my mind. There's a knock on the door, it opens, and he's just there smirking down at her all "Hey, guess who just got out of the Spirit Realm?"- And then there's this moment on her end where she realizes she really messed up, because you know she was probably talking alot of trash to him when she was astral projecting- but she is absolutely willing to back it up and throw down with him, which Kai gladly accepts.

What happens afterward?- I'll let you decide.

But the entire interaction at that point would be hysterical to me, and honestly does have alot of fun potential.

Snippet cuz I can't resist:

The ram looked up at him in mind-numbing shock. Kai smiled and spread his arms.

Then he settled down. His glowing green eyes seemed to bore into hers. All the joviality from before dropped, save for a cold insouciance.

"Honey, I'm home," he sang, and then promptly laughed, tossing his head back and clapping his hands together. The ram could only stare up at him.

"...Well?" He said, "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Only the hard habits of etiquette led her motion, puppeting the hollowed out husk of her body- and that was the saving grace that kept her from breaking. Her mind refused to process this at all; he had been trapped in the Spirit Realm, herself just an astral manifestation, when they had met- and now he was here, and she was making him tea- tea, as if he were just a regular guest.

The strange things the mind resorted to in order to keep sane.

Kai watched her, sitting at a low table in the center of her cabin home. The small teacup she lent to him seemed especially so in his hoof- but then again, he seemed especially large in her house. She took her seat across from him, sipping at her drink. It was then she noticed, during that long, quiet interval, that he never touched his- maybe he had forgotten how, or maybe he had no need of nourishment.

Or maybe chi was enough.

His eyes had never once left her. The glow of them felt like it would burn her if they gleamed any brighter. She inhaled softly and put her cup down.

"How did you get here?"

His eyes widened, and he smiled, tilting his head to one side, childish in gesture and tone, another form of mockery. "How?" He said.

He pointed to the assortment of jade amulets hanging at his waist, next to the twin blades also holstered there, and the ram could see the powerful aura surrounding each of them- could practically hear their souls screaming from within for release, and it made her nearly sick with the realization; no surprises, he had mentioned as much before- threatened her with it, in fact, when she had pressed his patience too far with sardonic remarks. She sipped her tea again.

"...Got a nice collection going, I see."

"So you know why I'm here now," Kai said.

He leaned over, ever so slightly. The air of the room became tense. Predatory.

The ram froze, immediately aware that the taut string drawn between them was about to snap. Still, she had always been stubborn: she held her ground, watching him in silence with as much wariness as he watched her. Kai smiled and slid his cup slightly over, leaning to rest his forearm full on the tabletop, leaning closer to her.

"You had alot to say in the Spirit Realm. When I couldn't touch you..."

His other hoof reached out, slowly, cupping her chin and jawline with a gingerness that should not have been able to come from such a brutish form. It was only a deception, though; just a touch, just to remind her that he was real, just to hammer home the potential of the threat he now presented. His tone was low, a mere rumble on the thickening air.

"...What have you to say now, Ghostie?"

She caught her hitching breath. Then she snatched her chin out of his grasp and held it higher, stubborn as ever.

"I say: I don't take back a single thing I said in the Spirit Realm," she said, raising her brows at him defiantly. Kai's eyes widened, but then he grinned. He slammed both of his hands down on the tabletop, making the clay tea set jump and rattle.

"Shall we take this outside, then?"

"We shall."

"You have your little knives?"

"They're swords! And they're more blades than those glass pokers you have on you!"

"They're jade- But we'll see for ourselves which are the better blades, won't we?- Here's a hint: they're mine."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Come prove it, then- and it better be worth my time. I didn't come here all the way from the Spirit Realm for nothing, after hearing all of that talk from you."

[texasthoughtsaboutnothing]

Weird Question.

What does a good Limbus Company Tier List look like?

[Warning: Long]

Gacha games are, at least in part, games about optimizing limited resources. There is a daily stamina limit, and weeklies and dailies that you need to feed that stamina into. In turn, you receive an amount of rewards that need to be spent to acquire and upgrade units. Limited rewards. And you need so many just to upgrade one unit. Decisions need to made, resources allocated. You only have so much, you want to get and use the right stuff without wasting anything on someone you find out is trash 90 levels in. Right?

This is an aspect of Gacha that is often missed in discourse about pngs of anime waifus: the emotional and intellectual labor of investing into a unit, the constant worrying about if you are making the most optimal choices, and the satisfaction of planning well. How a lot of attachment to a character can stem not from their design or personality but just because they're all you had that countered this boss node and lord almighty they clutched out the win with 0.1% HP after you dumped all you had into raising them. I could talk about it all day, it' super interesting to me. But to refocus, the major consequence of this kind of game design are tier lists.

Tier lists will tell you, at a glance, what units are worth investing in and what's worth avoiding. Good tier lists will provide comprehensive explanations and guides for each unit to contextualize their placement. Bad tier lists won't. They can be the combined knowledge of an entire community for a game, they can also be an edict laid down without compassion or transparency. Again, absolutely interesting. And again, to refocus, Limbus doesn't really have one.

Ok, there are Limbus tier lists. Esgoo has great tier lists on which IDs and EGO you should prioritize when considering Uptie 4. Obviously those are his opinion, all Tier Lists are at the end of the day, but he has a whole hour of discussion covering the why's and hows of each category. There is a Prydwen tier list for units, but its rarely shown to new players in any of the PM communities I'm in and is instead largely chastised to my knowledge. I've seen Sinner tier lists, meme tier lists, so on and so forth. None of these are the Tier List.

Maybe its just a sign of the times, but I remember when Gachas had the Tier List. Community vetted, moderator approved, above any all all others. Offered freely to newcomers and watched feverishly by veterans after a new unit is released. Nowadays I feel like I rarely see them.

Limbus doesn't have the tier list. You may wonder if it even needs one and I think you'd have a point. Boiling an entire ID's value to a letter grade might seem unnecessary, especially as Limbus is a bit different as a Gacha. IDs are easy to get, and though the level cap continues to raise (in a way many others find alarming and I'm inclined to agree) it's still less than a week's effort to max one out. I've played games where it took a month of currency to get a single Unit useable. THere just isn't as much drive to worry about leveling the wrong things, investing incorrectly because basically anything works.

However.

There still are obvious differences in the strengths of each character ID. True, most if not all are "useable", but you're probably better off leveling Pequod Yi Sang than Seven Yi Sang. You are definitely better off leveling Pequod Ishmael than Sloshing Ishmael. Its fair to want a quick cheat sheet to communicate those ideas at a glance, with explanations for those who want to delve a little deeper.

But I ask again, what would it even look like?

By what categories and traits do we subdivide these IDs? How can you convey that W Ryoshu is a self sufficient DPS monster tahat requires no synergy to be good while Maid Ryoshu has AoE built into her kit as well as strong poise gen that also does good damage at a glance? Put one in an AoE group and the other in DPS? Is that truly accurate when part of attack weight is that it's great against Abnormalities, the most common type of one-on-one encounter?

I ask the question "what would it look like" because I truly don't know. Limbus is a complicated, evolving game. I don't think that makes it special or standout in any particular way, but for an example it could be that Seven IDs are top tier next event because of temporary buffs and that throws a whole tier list on its head. I don't know of many Gacha that do stuff like that.

That's kinda the end of the thought. The best I can come up with is a list consisting of three tiers: "great, good with the right team comp, and don't. Further explanation available upon request." That's not very helpful, is it?

[acourtofthought]

I feel like some Elriels think that the way Elain and Azriel feel right now is absolutely set in stone and won't change when we get new books. Now, I'm not saying Elriel can't happen, but I think it's interesting that Feyre and Nesta both changed and went through so much development in their books and ended up with their mates, but apparently that won't happen with Elain. She's happy, healed, and already in love with her endgame, according to some of them.

I agree! If there is anything that we can say with confidence it's that Sarah has no issues with throwing what looks like a solid relationship in the trash when the next book of a series begins. Not that Az and Elain are even in a relationship but when Dorian / Celaena looked like a thing, when Chaol / Celaena looked like a thing, when Feyre / Tamlin looked like a thing, when Dorian / Sorscha looked like a thing, when Chaol / Nesryn looked like a thing, I don't think it's the smartest idea to get too comfortable in believing two characters who wanted to make out are a sure thing.

[taintedsoul-if]

Quick question could we roast the author and tells her how much her story sucks and her character roles makes no sense like T personality is less fitting of protagonist and more of a absolute scumbag that everyone is routing for them to die a horrible death

Yes you can. I mean come on.... the author was a psycho who fell inlove with someone she couldn't have. So she created this book..... 🤔. So yeah anon curse her! Curse them all! How dare they publish such trash that has no substance whatsoever! Look at the hero/heroine of the novel! Just a sex-starved man/Woman who sleeps with his/her father's concubine. Imagine sharing someone with the person that created You, Jesus! The things people write about makes you wonder what their train of thought is actually like on a daily basis. This author needs to be locked up in a mental asylum. 👀👀

Thinking about it.... I'm twisted. But we can't always stick to the cliche. 😂

We both can agree that Trysten/Trista's downfall needs to happen now but let's all be honest he's the protagonist of the world. Nothing will happen to him. If your MC gets forced into a mission the only thing your MC can do to wriggle out of it is to actually abandon the mission and face the consequences. Lemme show you something.

(Rough drafts.... So ignore the mess. And this is the scene i am tryna work on too.)

🤔 this scene though can only be unlocked for my soft/hard core revenge peeps. So not everyone will have access to this option unfortunately. But yeah you'll definitely be able to curse the author of the book after all she walks amongst you and now that your MC has entered the chat there will be alot of butterfly effect which will alert her that there is a intruder inside her world. 🚶‍♀️

Thanks for the ask anon. Hope all's well with you. Have a good one.