#no clue. no IDEA what i'm even supposed to do with this thing. no beginning of an idea

[womanofwords]

Everybody's Favourite (Part 3)

Over the next few days, you and Penguin get really close. Penguin teaches you the ins and outs of business: branding, advertising, pricing. You encourage Penguin to invest in something that people could go to during the day. "Maybe an ice cream place or coffee," you mused. "You can name it whatever you want."

Penguin looked at you with glee. "I like the way you think. Helps me be less shadowy."

Word spread about the kidnapping scarily fast. "Oswald, are the rumours true? Do you really have one of the Wayne kids here?" the Riddler asked, dropping by.

"Yes, Y/N Wayne. I've been trying to get their idiot father to believe that they're in my custody, but no dice." Penguin dropped his voice to a terrified whisper. "Half of my collection has been organised in five hours! Do you have any idea how large my collection is?"

"Yeesh. Do they know that Bruce Wayne is being about as useful as a map drawn in invisible ink?"

"They must have some clue. They were supposed to have been gone by now, but they're still here. They even made a joke about their family wouldn't notice that they were gone."

Penguin spluttered as he gestured at you. You were asleep in a pile of blankets in lieu of a bed. "How would they not know that this little angel was gone?"

"Maybe they really don't care. Not sure how they could come to that conclusion." Riddler looked at you with a small smile. "You know, I have a bet that you can keep Y/N here for two weeks straight without acting suspiciously or trying to hide them and even continuing to ask for ransom money, and they won't do a thing."

"Does the two weeks start now or from the day of the kidnapping? Because they've already been here for four days."

"From the day of the kidnapping. I'm not a monster. Also, what do you want if you win?"

"I'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Until then, I'm ordering more Indian food. I don't know how to cook."

(PAUSE)

Time went on, and more of Batman's rogues gallery paid a visit to the captive Wayne child as if it were a baby shower.

Two-Face was the first to arrive. "You can't be serious. Brucie Wayne didn't want to collect his child? Didn't you tell him?"

"We sent messengers, we called him, we sent stuff in the mail, he just thinks it's a prank." Penguin threw his hands up with exasperation. "Nothing against the little dove, but this is a little longer than I thought."

"I'll tell him," Dent volunteered. "Me and him go way back. Once he knows that it's serious, he'll arrive with something. Either the bat or the ransom, but something."

"Go ahead, but you're gonna lose me a bet," Riddler said nonchalantly.

"What's happening?" you asked.

"We're . . . having some difficulties contacting your family, dollface," Two-Face said. "They're not taking this very seriously."

"They don't take me very seriously," you snarked. "It's not you, it's me. I'm not exactly on the list of people they're concerned about. Titus ranks higher than me."

"Is Titus another kid?" Riddler asked. "No offence, but he has so many."

"None taken, Riddler. Titus is Damian Wayne's dog." You stretched and straightened out your clothes. "You're going to have to put up with me for a while longer. Also, do you have some spare clothes I can wear? I've been wearing my school uniform for the last four days straight and I'm beginning to stink."

"I'll call Harley about it," Penguin said.

(PAUSE)

The clown prince of crime arrived with his harlequin. "You kidnapped Bruce Wayne's child? Penguin, I didn't know you had it in you."

"Where is the little sweetums?" Harley burst in with bags laden with clothes. "I wasn't sure what they'd like, so I bought everything!"

"Uh . . . hi," you said, waving awkwardly. "Who's that for?"

"You, sweetums!" Harley said. "I also brought soap, toothpaste, shampoo, general hygiene products. Everything you'll need to live here."

"Thank you." You smiled up at the jester. "I just wish my folks could be as nice to me as you guys are."

Harley's smile dropped. "I . . . take it they're not the most attentive."

"They haven't bothered noticing my ransom, why would they notice toothpaste?" you snarked.

Joker and Harley looked at each other with horror and pity before turning back to Reader. "OK, kiddo, can you tell me what the Waynes are like to you?" Joker asked, his tone softened. "We need details. Lots."

"But not yet! You need a shower first. A long one," Harley ordered. "Here's the bag with all the bath stuff and here's the bag with all the clothes. Once you're dry and dressed, tell us everything."

You looked at Harley with confusion. "You . . . really want to know?"

"Of course!" Harley insisted. "Think of it as talk therapy. While you're in there, I'll call Ivy. She's the best with hair. And Professor Crane, too. You are not going to be alone with all those thoughts, honey. Let me know when you're done so I can get you a snack."

Your head was spinning. All those people would be arriving . . . and all for you.

How would you ever get used to this?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 <- You are here

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Taglist: @tinybrie

[oracle-of-dream]

Bad Habit

Summary: Jiwoong's your partner in class studying bad habits. You happen to chew on the inside of your mouth and bite your nails. It's not healthy! He feels compelled to find a new way to help you.

Warnings: Male Reader, Jiwoong is a caring man, Finger/Hand fetish, Finger Sucking, Hair Pulling, Oral Fixation, Blowjob, Cum-swallowing

Wordcount: 2.5k

It's been a habit you've had for a long time. Maybe even since you were a kid. Any time you felt stressed out, you naturally started grinding your teeth. It felt like your brain was running out of air, your ears buzzed, and you couldn't think straight unless your mouth was occupied. After a while, it changed to chewing gum, sucking on lollipops, biting your nails... whatever you needed, to keep your brain running. It was just so relaxing.

The clouds looked so fluffy today. You chewed on your index finger while letting your mind wander.

"Y/n, your assigned partner is... Jiwoong." Your professor's voice snapped you back to reality.

Looking around the room for context clues on the topic, you noticed everyone was sitting in pairs. Talking to one another, and discussing plans.

A man by the window stared at you, his dark eyes locked with yours as he smiled. He waved you over and you took your bag to sit by him. "I'm Jiwoong. We'll be partners for a while for the project. Do you get everything that's happening?" He asked with a soft smirk.

You hated partner work. It complicated things, and you didn't even know the topic. And this Greek statue of a man was your partner–it smelled like you would be doing it all alone anyway. "No, I missed the explanation. I'll go and ask the teacher."

Jiwoong shook his head. "No need. I can explain it to you." Jiwoong explained the entire project idea with amazing clarity– as if he had written the assignment himself. It was a simple experiment to study bad habits. Each group was meant to learn about their partner and identify a bad habit and ways they can try to prevent it.

"Oh, that's super simple. What's your bad habit, Jiwoong?"

Jiwoong chuckled. "I thought we were supposed to learn about each other. Where's the fun if I just tell you the answer?"

"What do you suggest instead?"

"How about lunch? You can learn a lot about a person over a meal." Jiwoong started packing his bag. You followed him, packing your back, and walking to the campus cafeteria.

You tried to study him while walking, but he gave nothing to work with. It was time for a different approach. "Do you have any hobbies?"

"I work out," He said shortly.

"Favorite foods?"

"I like fruits, mostly the sour ones."

"Um... fears?"

"Next question."

You continued asking general questions until you sat at the table across from him. It was beginning to irritate you how nonchalant he was being. The static in your brain started taking over, the rising sound of ringing in your ears. Before you could enjoy your food, you started chewing on your chopsticks. The feeling of rolling your tongue over and around the cold metal soothed you in an instant.

"Y/n?" Jiwoong called.

"Mmh?" You mumbled as you looked over your food, deciding what to eat first.

"Actually, never mind." Jiwoong picked up his utensils and started eating with you.

You tried to study Jiwoong while he ate, but he was still perfect. An impeccable wall, with not a single crack. Meanwhile, Jiwoong studied you back with sharp eyes that occasionally met yours. Eventually, figuring out the other got boring and you let your mind wander again. Going over what else you had to do after lunch. Go to another class, study for a few hours, and then you have to stop at the store to get food for dinner.

Unconsciously, your hand scratched your chin. But instead of putting your hand back down, your thumb found its way to your lips. Your lips parted and you started chewing on your nail.

Jiwoong sucked on his teeth. "Don't bite your nails. It's not healthy for you."

You obediently put your hand down. "Whatever," you mumbled. You continued with your meal, occasionally glancing at Jiwoong and catching him closely watching your hands. You ate your meal but somehow you ended up biting your nail again.

Jiwoong stood and grabbed your hand, his eyes coated with a hint of irritation. "Don't bite them," He warned. "Or is this your bad habit?" Jiwoong smirked at you as he shook your hand in his.

"I guess it is."

"So, now we're supposed to find a way for you to break that habit." Jiwoong went through his bag and pulled out a lollipop. "Just suck this instead, okay? I read before that the best way to break that habit is to do something else."

You took the candy from him to see the flavor. "Is this butterscotch? Who eats this?" You tossed it back to him.

"It was just a random flavor, I didn't specifically pick that one. Just eat it." Jiwoong unwrapped it and pressed it to your lips, leaning over the table to reach you. You turned your head, which forced Jiwoong to hold you by your chin and guide the candy to your lips. He was soft when handling you. Holding your chin up so you were looking at him as his thumb brushed against your lips. Your lips parted for a moment and he seized the opportunity to slide into the opening. Just for a moment, Jiwoong's finger passed into your mouth and then left. His eyes were tender but piercing and you felt something inside you snap...

Jiwoong let you go and sat down. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be so pushy–I was just trying to–"

"It's fine... I have to go. I'll see you around." The words spilled out of your mouth quickly as you scooped your belongings and rushed out of the cafeteria, your mouth filling with saliva as you did.

You could only make it to the bathroom before spitting into the sink. Your skin ran hot in waves, almost pulsing. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see Jiwoong's face holding you as his hands slipped into your mouth. Locked in a stall, you tried to calm down but the candy wasn't helping. Even biting your nails wasn't good enough anymore. You sat on the toilet, closed your eyes, and put your fingers on your lips. You saw Jiwoong looking at you with so much care as his fingers pushed into your mouth, letting you suck on them. He moved his long fingers making you gag as he held you by your neck–he wouldn't let you back away from him. Your body twitched and squirmed as your brain went black. Softly, you started humming, then moaning as you felt pleasure from your mouth being occupied. Less than a minute of this made you finish in your pants, you breathed heavily as you returned to reality.

You were sitting in the bathroom. Fingers dripping, lips swollen, and a dark spot in your pants that couldn't show how messy it was in there.

You cleaned yourself up, had to use your bag to cover your crotch, and left the bathroom. After a few minutes, you could feel an itch at the back of your throat. No matter how many times you coughed or rubbed your throat, it wouldn't go away. By the time you got home, it was unbearable. Drinking something cold or hot and eating cough drops. Nothing was working... Until you had an idea. Slowly, you put your index finger in your mouth and started to suck on it. The itch stopped and your head was at peace again. But anytime you stopped, the itch wouldn't stay gone for long.

Were you really that much of a freak? You couldn't focus unless something was in your mouth. You had to buy more candy that night to try and calm yourself, but you barely slept. At all. And the next morning was even worse, even your fingers weren't doing the trick anymore. You needed something longer to touch the back of your throat, to itch it directly. But your gag reflex would stop you from pushing anything too far... You needed someone to scratch it for you.

You struggled through the school day. Every minute felt like an hour. But you just needed to see him again, to ask for help...

When your psychology class came, you booked it into the classroom. Jiwoong was there before you and smiled at you walking in. Your body's immediate reaction was to start salivating as if it knew what would come. You approached Jiwoong as calmly as you could, trying to drink down as much spit as you could before speaking.

"Jiwoong, about yesterday–"

"I really am sorry about that. I shouldn't have been so forceful with you."

"No! I'm really not offended."

Jiwoong chuckled. "Well if you're sure. Just let me know if I can do anything to make it up to you, I just feel bad."

Your brain rang in alarm. This was your chance. "I–uhm, actually do have something you can help me with."

His eyes brightened. "Sure, anything."

"Can you come with me for a bit? Now?" You tried to contain yourself but the way you said "now" was almost like a moan. Jiwoong nodded and followed you out of the classroom. You led him down a few hallways until you found a secluded spot.

"What's wrong? Is it bad?"

You nodded. Struggling to keep it together. You picked up Jiwoong's hand before speaking, "I-I need a serious favor."

"Say it."

Your face burned with embarrassment with the words that came out of your mouth, "Can I please suck on your fingers?"

The silence was deafening. You stood there, unable to look at his face, waiting for his eventual judgment. But it never came–Jiwoong moved his hand to your lips. "Do I need to do anything specific?"

"You'll let me!?"

Jiwoong nodded. "I said I'd make it up to you. So, sure."

You couldn't hold it back anymore. You didn't waste another moment as you closed your eyes and took two of Jiwoong's fingers into your mouth. You pushed as far down as possible, gagging immediately as your body shook. You felt Jiwoong pull his hand away, maybe out of fear for your safety, but you opened your eyes to look at him. You silently begged for more.

Jiwoong moved his fingers back into your mouth, making your eyes roll. It felt so much different when he moved on his own.

You pulled off completely, swallowing a deep breath first. "C-Can you... do it?"

"D-Do what?" Jiwoong's eyes were wide as he watched your every move.

"Please... can you help me?"

"Just tell me what to do."

"Can you take control a bit? You can stop, but I can't do it alone."

Jiwoong smiled, cupping your cheek. "Okay, I can. If that's what you need, I'll do it. My way." Jiwoong fixed his stance before you, his energy completely switching. "Kneel for me," He commanded.

Slowly you knelt and looked up at him.

"Oh, that's perfect." He stroked your cheek again before putting his two fingers on your lips. "Open." You shivered at receiving the order as your mouth wrapped around his fingers. Jiwoong held the back of your head with his other hand and pushed you forward. His fingers pushed into your mouth as your tongue wrapped around them. They tasted sweet, like sugar, and were so soft. Jiwoong played with your tongue, stroked the roof of your mouth, and looked deep into your eyes the whole time. His chest rose sharply as he gripped your head tighter, his breath loud and ragged. "Y/n, stop for a second," He pulled you off him, leaving you gasping for air.

"Why? Please, don't stop–I'm not finished." You begged, almost crying from the absence.

"I know... I need help too." Jiwoong pushed your head toward his crotch, gently asking. "Can you help me too? It'll be good for us both." Sucking his fingers was the only thing you'd thought about. But now Jiwoong was offering something else... From what you could see from the bulge in his pants–he's huge.

You nodded slowly. "Please, let me suck it."

Jiwoong unbuckled his pants and let his cock out of his underwear. It slapped against your face. It was heavy and warm. It smelled clean with a hint of sweat. He tapped it on your face a few times before he pulled on your hair. "Open... Please." You could hear Jiwoong straining, trying to keep himself from being too rough with you.

You gently opened your mouth and went to reach for his cock. Jiwoong swatted your hand away. “No hands, just–let me.” Jiwoong slapped his cock on your tongue. “You’re so cute… It’s almost bigger than your face. Lick it, baby.” Your tongue darted out, giving small kitten licks, precum salty and sticky on the stiff muscle. Jiwoong’s jaw clenched as you swirled your tongue around the tip, then licked along his shaft slowly. “Very good,” He mumbled. “Just like that, keep going.”

Your spit dripped down his cock as you licked, almost choking on your spit as you climbed up it.

“Can I fuck your mouth?” Jiwoong grunted. You nodded gently, eyes begging for more. Jiwoong pushed into your mouth, cock heavy on your tongue as the tip hit your throat. “So wet–” He started moving, listening for your moans as the vibrations traveled up his cock. Every touch of the back of your throat hit the spot perfectly. You gagged, but with Jiwoong holding you there was no way to pull away. “Brace yourself.” Jiwoong started speeding up, now both hands were holding your hand as he moved your head on his cock in time with his thrusts. Your throat bulged as his length dove down your throat. You twitched and shook at the sensation overload. Jiwoong didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

He grunted at every thrust, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Sorry–” His next apology was cut off by his orgasm crashing over him. His cum spilled into your throat, while his cock was still deeply invested in you, forcing you to swallow. “Take it… Every drop,” Jiwoong grunted as he pulled his cock from between your lips and took a good look at you. Red, teary love-struck eyes, swollen lips, breathing heavily. You enjoyed every second of it and couldn’t feel the itch anymore. Finally, you could think soundly. Then the thought of what just happened crept into your mind.

“Jiwoong, I…”

Jiwoong looked around while slipping his cock back into his pants. “We should get out of here.”

“About that, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t get rid of that feeling and I needed something…”

Jiwoong helped you to your feet. “I needed you too,” He kissed you, tasting himself on your lips. “And if you need assistance regularly, I can do that.”

You nodded. “I’d like that… A lot.”

Jiwoong’s hand slid down your stomach, “And, I can even repay you for–” Jiwoong’s eyes widened as his hand reached your crotch. “Did you cum already?” You slowly nodded. “You need some extra pants? I have my gym pants in my bag.”

“Yeah… if you don’t mind.”

[sommerbueckers]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐞𝐝

___________________________________________________________

✰ 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮

✰ 𝐰𝐜 :: 𝟐𝐤

✰ 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭...𝐰𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

___________________________________________________________

EVERYTHING WAS EXACTLY HOW it was supposed to be. All the guests had arrived on time and were clad in an array of pastel colors, the menu had been carefully crafted to cater to everyone's dietary restrictions, and the weather was forecasted to be warm and sunny throughout the entirety of the day. You should've been ecstatic, and yet you could hardly breathe.

You sat hunched over in a chair, a worn bucket positioned in front of you in case you needed to vomit. Tears welled in your eyes, on the verge of spilling down your cheeks and ruining your meticulously applied makeup. The prospect of falling ill just moments before walking down the aisle was a dreadful scenario, yet you couldn't compose yourself. You clutched your hand to your chest, your face contorting in a painful grimace.

"I can't do this..." you mumbled, more so to yourself than to the other women in the room, your bridesmaids, "I can't do it."

Your best friend, and maid of honor, had been at your side since the moment you started feeling sick. Her hand hadn't left your back, soothingly rubbing up and down as she barked orders at everyone. It was always like her to take charge and ensure things remained intact when you started to crumble, it was the reason you two worked so well together. It was the reason you could trust her to put you back together whilst you sat still and helpless.

"Somebody get Paige," she said aloud.

"No!" you cried, looking frantically at her, "No, no I don't want her to see me like this, she can't."

"Honey," she wore a look of sympathy as she spoke to you, "you gotta breathe. I'm gonna leave and she's gonna come in here, you're gonna be fine."

You could only nod in response. Morgan had always been adept at reassuring you, persuading you that everything was fine even when it felt like your world was unraveling. As the room gradually emptied, leaving just the two of you, you finally gave in to the tears, allowing the warm droplets to slowly trickle down your face.

Morgan held you tightly, her own eyes pricking with tears at the sight of her best friend in shambles.

You felt frustrated with yourself. Today was meant to be the happiest day of your life; after seven years of dreaming about it, you and Paige were finally getting married. It was the start of a new chapter you had eagerly anticipated. Yet here you were, on the verge of ruining everything because you couldn't manage your emotions. Why couldn't you just get a grip? Why couldn't you just focus on everything good that was to come instead of everything that could go wrong?

What if this doesn't work out?

What if she falls out of love?

What if she feels like you're trapping her?

Paige could hear your sobs through the door, and her own nerves rose at the mere sound of it. She hadn't been told why you were crying, all she knew was that you had refused to leave the room multiple times. Her hands shook as she grabbed the doorknob, twisting it open to reveal you and Morgan sitting in the corner. She could've sworn she felt her heart break in that moment, she had never seen you this pained.

Morgan stood to her feet, placing a kiss to your temple before approaching Paige at the door.

"What happened?" Paige whispered with furrowed brows, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Morgan and you.

"I have no clue," she shook her head, "she said she couldn't breathe and then she just broke down...I don't know what to do Paige." It was the first time in her entire life that Morgan had no idea how to calm you down, she was beginning to panic as well.

"I got it," Paige reassured her, watching her leave and then shutting the door after her.

As she carefully approached you, she could hear you mumbling frenziedly into your hands. Your bouquet was on the ground beside you, a combination of pink and white hibiscuses all tied together with a blush colored bow. The two of you had gone out to pick them yourselves, Paige wanted them to be just right for you. They were perfect, everything was perfect, why were you crying?

"'M'sorry," you sobbed, "'m'so sorry."

She comfortingly wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer to her.

"What happened baby? Tell me what's wrong," she whispered.

"I can't do it," you repeated for the second time that day.

"Can't do what?" she frowned. She didn't want to jump to conclusions, to assume that by 'I can't do it' you meant marrying her. She couldn't lose you, she wouldn't.

"What if...if this is a mistake?" you panted, avoiding her eyes as she fought to catch yours. "What if later on you meet somebody else or you realize that i'm not enough for you?"

It was then that she realized this wasn't about you at all, it was about her. You were scared that she was getting cold feet, that she was having second thoughts, that her mind wasn't made up. She held you closer to her, kissing the top of your head as her own tears began to fall. She wondered if it had been something she had done to convince you that she wasn't all about you, that she wouldn't pick you in a room full of every other woman in the world.

She pulled away from you to get a better look at your face, holding either side of your face with her hands. "Stop talking like that, stop. That shit is never gonna happen and I know that for a fact. I can sit up here right now and tell you that falling out of love with you is several levels above impossible."

You blinked out more tears, staring silently at her as she professed her undying love for you.

"I am so in love with you it scares me. Every day that I wake up and can't be with you because i'm away for basketball or i'm out with some friends or anything else, all I do is think about you. And even when i'm with you, i'm still thinking about you. I can't even keep my hands off of you, like i'd need to be physically restrained for that to happen. You make me wanna do things i've never done before like jump out of a plane or swim in that little ass cage with the sharks around it because all I wanna do it impress you. I want you to stare at me with those big brown eyes and tell me how much you love me, and I wanna record your laugh so I can listen to it on repeat whenever you're not around.

I want you to force me to watch romcom movies that you've seen a thousand times and are only watching again because you want me to see them. I wanna come home really late at night and find you sleeping on the couch in my clothes because you missed me, and then in the morning I want you to tell me how you tried to stay up to see me when I came home. I'm planning to take you to all the countries that you've dreamed about visiting and just haven't had the time yet. I'm gonna be front row at your med school graduation with a huge poster of your face that blocks everyone behind me from seeing you. I wanna go back and forth with you over what to name our first kid, and I wanna combine all of our money so we can build an obnoxiously big house.

I swear to God, and I never swear to him so that's how you know I'm being so serious, I'll be damned if I spend my life with anyone other than you. Nobody else is worth my time. All I need is you baby, that's fucking it."

You and Paige were bawling together, both of your makeup needing desperately to be redone. It would push the wedding back for sure, but that didn't matter now, Paige loved you.

You pulled her in for a kiss, ignoring the way both of your tears were mixing together. She wouldn't touch anything other than your arms, not wanting to ruin your dress.

"I love you. I'm not leaving this spot until you understand that," Paige said firmly.

You nodded your head, swallowing the lump in your throat that had begun to shrink since the moment Paige stepped in here.

"I understand it."

"Do you still wanna do this?"

You shook your head, watching intently as Paige let out a sigh but nodded nonetheless.

"I'm kidding! Fuck, let's fucking do this!"

Paige playfully pushed your shoulder, narrowing her eyes as she stood up. "I'm gonna go grab that fancy makeup lady and tell her to get you right, and then i'm telling Morgan to work her magic and impress everybody with one of her weird talents to buy us time," she explained quickly, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes! I'm fine, now go and fix the mess I made," you laughed.

She placed another quick peck on your lips, hurrying out of the room and leaving you alone with your thoughts again. This time however, they were a thousand times more collected than before. You laughed at yourself, you were silly to second guess Paige's love for you. She had never, not once, given you a reason to. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your face was a wreck and it'd take a miracle to hide the swelling of your eyes. But again, none of that mattered.

Paige loved you.

___________________________________________________________

[esther-dot]

It all begins way, way back in 2012…

[I'm doing screenshots or select quotes for those who don't click through + linking as well for those who will, but please, do not, do NOT harass anyone over their takes. No rude comments or weird anons! Talk to your fellow Jonsas instead, and of course, hopefully, post some thoughts about the theory yourself!]

2012 AUGUST Sansa's Suitors Align with the Fair Maid's Champions - (Assumes Aegon is the Targ but is a Sansa x The Hound theory)

2014 The Tourney at Ashford and Sansa's Future Husband (Sansa x Aegon theory)

It's been implied that this Redditor took the idea from the Sansan theory since it was posted months later, but their read is a bit different, focusing on the idea of the Targ suitor for Sansa rather than focusing on Dunk/claiming the Hound will interrupt the events or be a suitor himself. Whatever the truth there, many of the convos I've seen about the theory whether it's from Sansa x Aegon truthers, Jonsas, or those who don't buy into it at all, stem from this post, this reading and often link to it as the source.

The theory was eventually copied over to Westeros.org, several posts in quick succession of each other.

2014 JANUARY I've just read a new theory about Dunk and Egg... (Arguing for a Sansa x Aegon pairing)

2014 JANUARY TL;DR Aegon and Sansa will be paired up sometime in the future. The ending's not going to be good.

2014 JANUARY How Aegon might end up as Sansa's Suitor

2014 MAY Sansa Stark and Lady Ashford (much more thought given to Jon as a serious contender than I saw elsewhere around this time)

Now Littlefinger’s supposed plan is to marry her to Harry Hardyng.

GRRM may or may not be foreshadowing here, but I believe a clear analogy was intended. But there is a correction here that I have noticed: What do all of the men and betrothals Sansa finds herself have in common? They’re all frauds. ... And next we have Jon Snow. At this point R+L=J is canon except in name (fitting much?). His survival was achieved by the most honest and honorable man in the 7 Kingdoms pulling off what is arguably it’s grandest act of deception in living memory. A lie he even convinced his wife and best friend to believe. If Rhaegar and Lyanna were married (remember, polygamy used to be a thing for the Targaryens, so it’s possible), then his real name would Targaryen. But either way, Jon is, you guessed it, a fraud. I do not see how Sansa could end up in a betrothal to either Jon or Aegon (the latter option in particular sounds like it could lead to terrible things), but then again who would have guessed that Jorah would end up with Tyrion in Essos?

2015 APRIL I don’t normally reopen closed threads of mine... (Jonsa post!)

It is hypothesized that GRRM hid clues regarding who Sansa would marry in The Hedge Knight which indicate that the last person she will be betrothed to is a Targaryan.

2015 JULY Sansa and Aegon Gifset

2015 SEPTEMBER Sansa and Aegon Gifset

2016 JUNE Jon or Aegon Gifset

2016 JULY Sansa and Jon Gifset

2016 JULY Aegon and the Ashford Theory in connection to GoT (Jonsa post!)

Could Aegon be Sansa’s Targaryen suitor?  In the show, no.  In the books, we used to think so. However, it appears that the books are leading towards a potential Aegon/Arianne partnership, and if things begin to go badly for Aegon, he may try to go back down the Aegon/Dany path that he abandoned at Tyrion’s insistence.   Besides this, Varys is the mastermind of Aegon’s rise to power, and Littlefinger is the mastermind of Sansa’s potential reclaiming of Winterfell and ownership of the Eyrie - the two men hate each other ferociously, and it’s unlikely that they would trust each other enough to give their pawns to them. Whilst I don’t doubt that Littlefinger is going to try and murder both Sweetrobin and Harry (who she is to be betrothed to in The Winds of Winter), I doubt any of Varys’ men will attempt to do the same to Arianne incase of a Dornish retaliation.

2016 JULY Five Suitors for Sansa (Jonsa fic based on the theory)

2016 AUGUST Jon or Aegon Gifset

2016 SEPTEMBER Will Sansa marry Jon Snow? Alt Shift X video

Although already beloved by Jonsas, Alt Shift's video took the theory to a whole other level...

TIME September 2016

Harpers Bazaar September 2016

RadioTimes October 2016

"bring him luck in love" lmao. If only. Glamour October 2016

....you get the idea.

Jonsas weren't necessarily thrilled for this specific theory to get all the attention, but from here on out, perhaps because of the huge influx in Jonsa shippers after s6 of GoT, a show in which Aegon didn't exist and instead Jon was dubbed Aegon, the theory kinda became perceived as a Jonsa theory. And weirdly, although Alt Shift wasn't a Jonsa, Jonsas were accused of "stealing" the theory (even though all corners of the ASOIAF fandom linked to the old Reddit post as the originator, and even though the Game of Thrones fandom heard about it through Alt Shift + all the subsequent articles...). Regardless of all of that nonsense, Jonsas ran with it and it became pretty commonly referenced bit of proof that Jonsa was real here on tumblr (examples from 2017, 2018, 2019). By this time it looks like it also became accepted that Brienne, not the Hound, is the canon parallel to Dunk (this post claims to be the first to bring Brienne into the convo in 2015, GRRM confirmed Brienne is a descendent of Dunk, this fic was written based on the Sansan take but inserted Brienne instead of the Hound in 2016).

2016 What is "Ashford Tourney Theory" and what does it have to do with Sansa Stark? (answer on Quora by the most popular GoT/ASOIAF person on the site so wanted to include, but this is not referenced by Jonsas much)

2016 NOVEMBER The Tourney at Ashford and Sansa's Suitors

Okay, I know that Ashford is used as evidence for the Jonsa ship and while I don’t think its enough to say whether Jonsa is endgame or not. It is suggestive of some kind of partnership between the two.

2017 JUNE Besides Jon, who do you see as a candidate with a good chance of being a romantic interest for Sansa? (not much focus is on Jon in this post although it is written by a Jonsa, but in 2018 it's reblogged with these interesting observations by @starwarsprincess1986

Prediction: Jon Snow aka Prince Aegon Targaryen Possible Supporting evidence: How each of these men have some connections to Jon Snow: Joffery Baratheon -is seen as a true born son and heir to iron throne, but is really a bastard (Jon is seen as a Bastard, but is really a true born son and heir to the iron throne) Tyrion Lannister -gets his face practical cut off at the battle of Blackwater (Jon gets his face torn up by orell’s eagle) both Tyrion and Jon receive these wound in Book 3: A Storm of Swords Willas Tyrell -has a bad leg (Jon gets shot with an arrow in his leg when escapes the wildlings) Willas is semi-engaged to Sansa and Jon received this wound in Book 3: A Storm of Swords Harrold Hardyng -It is said that Harrold has the look of Jon Arryn in his youth. (Who is JON Snow named for? The man who fostered Ned Stark as a young boy maybe?)

2017 OCTOBER Possible reference to it on Game of Thrones by @thelawyerthatwaspromised

2017 NOVEMBER a helpful jonsa graphic by @ladywolfmd

2018 MARCH Sansa: Five Suitors For Her Claim and One For Love by @storyswept

[much more, click to read]

2018 APRIL One point (plus some extra ones) on the Ashford theory and Jonsa by @occupyvenus

The most common argument goes something like this: “What matters is the surname they are known as. Duh. Joffrey counts as the Baratheon even though he’s a Lannister. Duh. Or rather a Waters or a Hill. Duh. And Jon would count as s a Snow. Duh. Not a Targaryen. Duh. It’s not about their secret, real name. Duh. ... So let’s look at who Sansa actually gets betrothed/married to … She is promised to Joffrey “Baratheon” (even though he isn’t actually one), to Willas Tyrell, Tyrion Lannister, Harrold “Hardyng” (even though he’s supposed to take on the name Arryn once he ascends as Lord of the Vale) and since Sansa wouldn’t get engaged/married to her supposed half-brother Jon Snow, but to her cousin Jon (or whatever) Targaryen … I would say it fits the pattern just fine. It fits perfectly even. This interpretation also eliminates any issues that come with Joffrey being the “Baratheon” champion and since at least three out of five names do indeed fit perfectly without question, I really see no reason to try extra hard to discredit it. She wasn’t betrothed to Joffrey Waters or Hills or Lannister, but to Joffrey … Baratheon. Just as she wouldn’t be betrothed to Jon Snow or Stark, but Targaryen. 

2018 APRIL Have you heard of the tourney of Ashford theory? by @viking-hel

It became a historically important tourney due to the death of Prince Baelor, heir to the IT. I think that is another aspect that should be considered, perhaps for the show, though that is only my thought: the death of a Targ heir revolving around this theory is interesting to say the least.

2018 JULY Aegon or Jon Gifset

2020 SEPTEMBER How would you respond to detractors of the Ashford Tourney theory... by fedonciadale

There is also no representation for Theon Greyjoy who at one point wanted to marry Sansa Stark, there is also no representation for several other men who play a part in Sansa’s storyline and have a ‘romantic’ interest in her.

2020 SEPTEMBER I don’t ship Jonsa, but I don’t get people who deny the ashford tourney parallels. by fedonciadale

2020 OCTOBER JON SNOW X SANSA STARK - BOOK HINTS by @ladyofasoiaf

[much more!]

I searched some of the popular/neutral tumblr blogs and at this point they were maintaining it was a coincidence (example, again, DO NOT HARASS ANYONE FOR THEIR TAKES). I also noticed that this theory was so ubiquitous and self-explanatory, people started merely linking the Tourney at Ashford Wiki with no reference to AltShiftX or the two dueling origins. This brings us to the most comprehensive look at the theory yet which comes almost a decade after it was first introduced to the ASOIAF fandom...

2021 MARCH THE BLACK PRINCE WITH THE WHITE GUARDIAN by @butterflies-dragons

[much, much more, you gotta read the whole post]

2021 APRIL Another criticism of the Ashford theory by fedonciadale

“Prince Valarr died!” Jon: *is dead*

2021 MAY Alt Shift X (again, this time confessing he accepts jonsa - I'm linking Stumpy's reaction here.)

2021 JUNE About the Ashford Theory by @istumpysk

About the Ashford Theory, it should be noted that Lady Ashford didn't end up getting forcibly married to Tybolt Lannister, and yet that did happen to Sansa. The Ashford Theory already doesn't apply fully to the letter. So no the Targaryen suitor doesn't necessarily have to die just like Valarr nor does it mean Sansa will end up alone. It is all up in the air.

2021 JULY Another parallel... by @istumpysk

Another parallel between the Ashford tourney and the Vale tourney: Dunk was falsely accused of kidnapping a prince and we all know Shadrich is almost certain going to try to kidnap the northen princess. I think he is the third and last anti-Duncan knight in Sansa history together with The Hound and Dontos, hopefully his interference in the Vale tourney will lead Sansa to her true Duncan-like knight: Brienne.

2021 JULY Lyonel means Lion by @esther-dot

2021 JULY The way i laugh every time i think about the Ashford theory... by @istumpysk with an interesting reblog by @ladyqueenofwinter

Valarr = The Black Prince Jon: Dark-haired Prince of the Seven Kingdoms = a Black Prince Loras = Knight of Flowers Jon: Night's Watchman = Black Knight on the Wall Jon: the Blue Winter Rose, growing on the Wall in the House of the Undying = A flower Jon = Knight of Flowers Jon is a Black Prince and a Knight of Flowers!!!

2021 JULY We really should have spent more time obsessing over the Ashford champions by @istumpysk

1. Lyonnel Baratheon: A Baratheon lion that declared himself Storm King for a short while. 2. Leo Tyrell: Oberyn says the reason why Willas was allowed to participate in a tourney so young is because his father wanted him to be another Leo Tyrell. Willas is twice Sansa' age which is something that bothered her but end accepting since "he might be the only champion she would ever have", in The Hedge Knight, Leo is describe was having "silver in his hair and a grey beard" which together with the fact he has old enough to comand forces in the First Blackfyre Rebelion thirteen year before suggest he was the oldest between the champions in the Ashford tourney. We dont know the exact year Willas was born but by fans calculation is probably the same year as Tyrion, which may make him the oldest of Sansa suitors just like Leo is the oldest champion. 3. Tybolt Lannister: we don't know much about him besides the fact that he made a alliance to the Starks to defeat rebelling Greyjoys but we know that he had a younger brother who has exceedingly clever, quick of wit, a notably bookworm and has also suspect of commiting kinslayer by murdering his niece which made him hated by the nobles and the smallfolk. 4. Humfrey Hardyng: The last name is already a big thing since he and Harry is the only Hardyngs in the books but there the possible foreshadowing that just like him, Harry will be injured in the Vale Tourney. 5. Valarr Targaryen: Dark haired half Targaryen, son of the heir to iron throne, wear all black and is accompanied by a white protector. Do i need to say anything more?

2022 SEPTEMBER Ashford Tournament! (long post, scroll down for all the relevant quotes!) by @istumpysk

But they were all dead now, even Arya, everyone but her half-brother, Jon. Some nights she heard talk of him, in the taverns and brothels of the Ragman's Harbor. The Black Bastard of the Wall, one man had called him. - The Blind Girl, ADWD x Six pups they'd found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow. - Jon XII, ASOS x The last pavilion was Prince Valarr's. Of black silk it was, with a line of pointed scarlet pennons hanging from its roof like long red flames. The shield on its stand was glossy black, emblazoned with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen. One of the Kingsguard knights stood beside it, his shining white armor stark against the black of the tentcloth.  [...] And the black-and-white knight, Lord Gawen Swann, challenged the black prince with the white guardian. - The Hedge Knight

That last line makes me laugh each time. Why do we even need any meta lmao.

2023 NOVEMBER lysa wanted to marry sansa and robert arryn, does that debunk the ashford theory?

...Sansa is about to be present at a tourney in TWOW, she's talking about her favor, there's this whole pre canon thing about a Stark girl and Targ at a tourney, so it doesn't feel weird to think maybe Sansa was on Martin's mind. And of course, in canon, Sansa is the maiden fair which is interesting when the Ashford girl is referred to as fair maid, and this idea of a revolving door of champions is very reminiscent of Sansa's unfortunate experiences thus far, with men who help her, fail her/hurt her, and then on to the next (the Hound, Tyrion, Dontos, LF...). A potential match with Sweetrobin doesn't feel like an obstacle to everything that does make this feel like a thing, especially when, it is not merely the matching names that connect the two, it's the details that create all sorts of parallels with Jon, making him seem like the canon Targ this will ultimately be about. Let's revisit that revolving door of "champions" for Sansa, who is the guy who killed her monster in canon?

2024 JANUARY Sweetrobin also doesn't count as a suitor because... by @catofoldstones

2024 MARCH The Ashford Theory and my patience running thin by @catofoldstones

[much more!]

2024 APRIL Jon or Aegon Gifset

2025 JUNE baelor breakspear at the tourney at ashford meadows by @transdimensional-void

something that stood out to me about the manner of baelor's death at the tourney is how reminiscent it is of rhaegar's death at the trident. [... ] it's also notable that baelor's name is linked to the story of bael the bard, yet nothing we know about baelor himself calls to mind any part of that myth, except perhaps the part about him being murdered by a family member. rhaegar, on the other hand, is one of the series's best-known bael the bard figures. [...] if baelor is meant to call to mind rhaegar, then it seems very likely that baelor's son, valarr, is meant to call to mind rhaegar's son...

Obviously this isn't comprehensive, but I wanted to collect a variety of posts on this topic into one spot, so we could easily see how it evolved. While reading through old Jonsa blogs to find these posts, I was really struck by the way the initial "it's the names" was enough to convince a lot of people of the possibility of canon Jonsa, but then, instead of it ending there, Jonsas just kept on growing the theory. As recently as this week we're getting new posts about it, strengthening the theory even though it is now nearly 13 years since that initial observation was made.

(Illustration at the top by Howard Pyle )

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Beginning to learn

Adar x reader

Uruk and mortal learn things from one another in this. Suggestive themes.

Written with specifically season 1 Adar in mind.

You wandered the tunnels in search of Adar. There were matters to be discussed but it was like he avoided you.

He had been everywhere others told you to find him but by the time you got there all you were told was "Apologies, lady. Lord Father just left."

It took you almost hours to finally get to him and catch him off gaurd.

"Why do you avoid me?" There was a tone of annoyance to your voice and Adar visibly curled into himself at the directness of your words.

You and Adar were new to relationships, especially of mixed kinds. In the short weeks of knowing and being with each other Adar learned about mortal's routine bleeding. It had sent panic through his entire being as he found you in your chambers reeking of blood and in visible discomfort.

"I am confused as to why you believe I avoid you. The tunnels are close to completion and I am overwhelmed with overseeing it all." You could see he lied. His eyes had a tell. Yes, Adar was busy but it was not work that overwhelmed him.

It was your scent.

"Come take a break, then. If you are so overwhelmed. Calm your mind and eat with me, then you may go again." Even if he lied, it was still clear he was not entirely okay.

Taking a step towards him you caught his arms and pressed yourself against him to leave a kiss on his jaw.

"..Adar?" He was in trouble now, he felt the looming dark void in his mind grow. The voice that spat nothing but filth and hurt. You would be disgusted, how would you not be.

There was no denying you felt what you did with your body flush against his. With a quick glance down you took a step back to look him in the eyes.

"Are you ..aroused by me being near you? Is that why you ran?" You were confused. You and Adar had talked about communication and boundaries before, making sure both of you would voice your concerns.

"It is not that." The air of disgust was now visible to you as well, but it was unclear what is was directed towards. "I need to get used to smelling you in the air. Your current state is affecting me in ways I am sure you are uncomfortable with."

"My current.." You had no clue what he meant, but the idea of him believing you'd be uncomfortable with him being attracted to you was hurting your feelings more than him avoiding you.

"That's not a reason to avoid me. You are allowed to ask such things of me, I'm not afraid to lay with you if that is what you think." With a huff you crossed your arms and waited for a response, but he stayed quiet.

"Adar." You siged and looked at him. "I need you to speak. In clear terms, what is wrong here?"

"I can smell that you are.." You could see Adar search for his words. "Fertile.. Uruk noses are sensitive and I prefer to keep my distance as to not cause you any unease."

At his explaination heat rose to your cheeks. "You can smell that? What else do I need to know that you can just sniff out?"

While you were on one hand embarassed that your body was letting everyone know of something you had no control over, you were also curious to learn more about the uruks.

"There is also arousal, which I catch a slight hint of right now. Does this sort of talk interest you in such ways?" Adar's question made you want to let out a huff of laughter with how he did not seem to understand, but it also saddened you with how undesirable he saw himself.

A smile crept upon your face, now it had become your turn to be shy about things.

"What can I say. I suppose thinking about such things, about doing them with you is affecting me." You gave him an apologetic look, still unsure how he was faring in the moment.

Closeby the sound of a group of uruks drew closer and before you you watched him shake off his current state and hold himself with that leader stature that came naturally to him. "We'll speak more after today's business if attended to. In my chambers. Come find me then." You bid each other farewell and moved on.

Later that day, within the privacy of Adar's chambers you found yourself sat atop his hips. Your garment bunched up at at yours after you had helped him out of his armor and left him in just his tunic and trousers.

Adar's face still held no sign of true enjoyment.

"I am not offending you with any of my actions, am I?" You stopped your already slow ministrations, not wanting to cross a line.

"No, not offensive. I don't want you doing anything that makes you uncomfortable. Don't feel you must do this because of how my body responded before." One of his hands had come to rest against you, yet still over your garment instead of the skin of your thigh.

"You are not forcing my hand, nor my mind. I do this because I want to. There are no chains that bind me to these tunnels. No shackles that force me into this bed." With the utmost care you took his hand off your clothed waist and placed it on your bare thigh. "I want you. For my own pleasure, and yours."

There was loads of convincing needed to have him put his hands on you more intimately, let alone have his cock inside of you. Sighs of "oh, Adar please.." and "your hands feel so good." Turned into your combined moans as Adar finally gave in to the pleasure he felt. He gave up his control for you to take the lead and with the events from earlier gone from your minds you allowes him to spill inside of you, only realizing once the deed had already been done.

"You know the children you bear won't be fair like you.." The way he spoke sounded like he felt as if he cursed you, but you weren't letting him. Everything he gave you was a blessing, and never a curse.

"Fairness is in the eye of the beholder, my love. And I am sure they will be perfect."

You knew Adar wanted to speak against your words but he stayed quiet, knowing he could not win in this. You loved him and his children with all their flaws ans imperfections.

Perhaps, he thougt, he should start to learn from you in seeing himself through your eyes.

[yayll]

Hiii i hope you're feeling better soon :(( I was wondering if I could request a Dazai x reader fic where the reader has PTSD? Specifically, the beginning of autumn kind of triggers her (sorry if it's a confusing i dunno how to word it lol) Could it be fluff/comfort? Btw I love your writing style so badly so pls tweak the idea if you think it would work better! And no worries if you'd rather pass :33

hii angel i genuinely am sorry that this took me a while! (work and life happened a little more than usual, GOT SICK and barely had time to sit down and write.) it was so ivover but i am fine now thank u so much bub!

i REALLY hope you like this and that it's what u wanted, i've never written someone w PTSD before and i was just rlly hoping i didn't mess this characterization up for ur request ahhh. i had such a nice time writing it and i rlly wanted to explore the impact it could have around reader and dazai and him going out of his way even if it could be a little goofy and sappy to make u feel at least a little better even if u can't talk abt it.

i love uuuu thank u again! <3

~ a little something about Dazai noticing harmful patterns and loving you through them ~

He's been watching you sit by the window for the past half hour as you stare at what seems like the beginning of the new season outside. You were quieter than usual, more withdrawn and jumpy, which could only mean that you weren't sharing something with him- or rather having trouble processing something to the point where you didn't realize he could tell something inside you was on high alert.

Dazai would rather die than see you in such a state, especially during what's supposed to be such an exciting time of the year that's full of the things you usually love to do. Whatever is impeding you from enjoying the leaves falling has to be dealt with the most delicate of methods, but especially with love. If you taught him anything about the past haunting you to the point of mental distress, something he suffered bouts of every now and then when memories made days grow dark, it's that all you need is one person to truly witness you. Just like how you've seen the ugliest parts of him time and time again yet you still look at him with all the stars in the sky, stars he consumes like a black hole waiting to be filled.

Luckily for you, he has an arsenal of things he can try to soothe you with, because he wouldn't be a good detective AND boyfriend if he didn't keep all those context clues in his pocket for a bad day. Mainly though, he was just completely attuned to your every need. You are his happiness, and your wellness isn't up for debate: It's mandatory. He stands up from the loveseat with a deep exhale as he walks over to you, his lips curled in a lazy smile as he tests the waters to see what you could need from him without asking.

"You know, if you stay any more still I could probably paint you like one of those fancy paintings. What do you say, be my model?"

You look over at him from the window, and he can visibly tell you haven't been at ease lately. He suddenly realizes he's just fallen even more in love with you. That there is nothing in this world that could ever let him see you as anything but his heart.

You murmur, a faint smile decorating your serene face.

"Mm, I'm not sure. I don't think I could pose for that long, you know? It would probably be hard to catch my likeness, heh."

He clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes with a playful smirk. Oh how he wants to lean in and worship your likeness with his loving touch, but he decides to take it easy on the physical affection for now, not until he knows you're feeling up for it. He can be a good boy, something he usually isn't.

"Well, I wouldn't mind being the brave young knight who tries~ Shall we take this outside for better lighting?"

You instantly don't give him a good reaction to that. You shrug, seeming conflicted and unsure of yourself, but unable to really bring yourself to explain with words, something uncharacteristic of you.

No problem! Dazai thinks to himself. If you don't want to go outside, he can bring outside to you in the comfort of home. He'll enhance your safe space, and tailor it to just what you need. He hums, tapping his temple in an exaggerated manner as if he were thinking really hard and when he sees that it gets a small giggle out of you, he knows he's on the right track.

"Hm, I know what we should do instead. Wait here, angel.~"

He disappears into the hallway and you sit there as the sound of cabinets opening and rummaging around fills the air. You smile to yourself, and shake your head at the mental image of Dazai becoming a tornado to find whatever he's looking for right now, hoping he doesn't make too much of a mess. You fidget with your hair, twirling it in between your fingers as you take a deep grounding breath while you wait.

A moment later, he comes back with what seems like art supplies and a ton of mini candlesticks.

He knows you're intrigued when you tilt your head in confusion, but then again that's probably just the confusion... Dazai sets down two canvases along with the candles, flashing you a mischievous grin. If you couldn't process your feelings through words, art was always there! You look over the activities he's laid out for you both, awaiting his silver tongued explanation.

"You know when I want to be the little spoon but I don't say anything?"

You laugh softly, and nod.

"Mhm, you get all moody and weird."

He nods back, a half smile on his face as he rests his hands on his hips. He wants to tell you that the only reason he even knew such intimate luxuries is because you showed him that he's worthy of it, of being loved, but he doesn't say anything. He lets the sweet memories between you swim through his mind as fuel for the day he's trying to create for you. His voice sounds more like he's talking out loud now, lost in a thought..

"You make me moody and weird. You also make me want to grab your soft little face and just..."

He then snaps back to the moment, and his tone picks up.

"... But alas, there is no time to waste! Come, sit, I'll get the other things ready.~"

He zooms off to the kitchen, and your heart softens at how much he fusses over you, though you also hope you aren't being too much. You know he'd hate to hear that, so you simply sit down and look over the supplies you had honestly forgotten you had.

Dazai makes tea, because he knows it helps with your fidgeting and you like how the mug feels in your hands, he also begins to set the candle sticks all over the living room, lighting them one by one. You flash him a look of faint concern.

"Feels like Dracula's castle. You sure this is safe, Osamu?"

He simply grins impishly.

"It's called 'mood lighting', cutie. There is an atmosphere to be created!"

"Yeah, and possibly a wildfire."

"Boo, you're no fun. Besides, that sounds like a problem for future us. We live in the moment."

Dazai would never risk your safety and you know that, which is why you don't push the topic any further.

You two settle in, the candles illuminating you both with a warm flame that feels more comforting than you'd like to admit, you feel yourself becoming more immersed in the random little doodles and brush strokes you create as you both talk for hours about literally nothing while sipping on your tea. Nothing feels nice, for once and Dazai can see it in the way you slowly become less and less tense. So mindful, so beautiful.

After you fill your canvas, you set it down, and peer over at Dazai's.

"What'd you paint?"

He smiles sheepishly, and hides his.

"Not finished yet. No peeking!"

He stands up and in one swift motion, runs outside, while leaving you bewildered at the spontaneity of the situation. A few moments later, he runs back inside, huffing with his arms behind his back. He sits back down on the floor with you, criss crossed. He grabs his canvas, and puts something on it as he slowly unveils his work to you.

It's a single crisp leaf he must have plucked from the grass when it fell, the orange and reddish hue placed on the canvas that shows a cartoonishly painted tree as well. He murmurs, eyes trained lovingly on you but with that familiar playful tone.

"I wanted you to get a little air. It's good for one's mood, you know."

You slowly take the leaf, and twiddle it in your thumb as you begin to smile to yourself. You mutter back.

"The weather changes, moods change, it's so overwhelming sometimes..."

He slowly leans in a little closer and places a hand on the small of your back, inching you closer to him too. He wants to distract you from those thoughts affecting you, but it's getting harder when all he can think about is how much you affect him. He whispers.

"My mood never changes, you're the most precious thing I have ever seen all year round."

You look up at him, your eyes communicating what you feel, and he picks up on it with a silent confirmation. You hold each other's gaze for a long quiet moment and when you feel ready you lean into his chest, nuzzling into him. He envelops you in a hug that feels like the remedy you've been searching for this whole time, and it almost brings you to tears. You don't know it also does the same to him. He gives you a soft squeeze and leans down to your ear, his warm breath feeling like the way life is supposed to feel. You mumble, your voice slightly muffled against him.

"Thank you, Osamu. Love you."

He smiles at that. To be something so soothing to you, to be of use for once in his life, it's a feeling that he could never describe. He'll have to find the words when he covers you in kisses from head to toe later, when he makes sure you feel the full extent of his devotion to you through thick and thin. He exhales deeply.

"Change of season, change of mind... It doesn't matter to me. It's still you. It will always be you."

[whereforarthur]

Brother’s Flatmate

Request: anything that starts angsty but ends fluffy PLS

Pairing: Arthur Hill x George’sSister!Reader

Category: Angst to Fluff

Word Count: 4.3k

*****

"Real love doesn't meet you at your best. It meets you in your mess." – J.S. Park

In the bustling heart of London, where the Thames River curved its ancient path, there was a man named Arthur Hill. He was known to many as a charismatic YouTuber with a velvety singing voice, yet to his closest friend George, he was simply Arthur, the bloke who was always there for a pint and a laugh. Arthur's flat, a cozy sanctuary tucked above a quaint bookstore, reflected his unassuming nature—a blend of vintage furniture and the faint scent of dusty pages that spoke of quiet nights spent reading and recording his latest vlogs.

The flat was often filled with the sound of George's raucous laughter as the two friends bantered over cups of tea. However, the dynamic changed whenever George's sister, Y/N, was around. She was a sharp contrast to Arthur's laid-back demeanor—ambitious, driven, and often blunt to the point of discomfort. Her visits were met with a tension so palpable it could be sliced with a knife.

Today was no exception. The moment she barged in, Arthur felt the atmosphere shift. He set aside his camera, knowing that the evening's vlog would have to wait. Y/N's eyes narrowed as she assessed the cluttered room, a clear judgment of his lifestyle.

"It's not just a bit of mess," she retorted, her voice laced with frustration. "It's a health hazard. And it's not like you don't know how to clean up after yourself, Arthur."

The unspoken hostility between them was a constant thorn in George's side. He had no idea what had caused the rift, only that it had grown wider with each passing year. Arthur and Y/N had never seen eye to eye, and it was clear that their dislike for each other was deeply rooted.

"Look, I've had a long day," Arthur said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Could we not do this now?"

Y/N scoffed. "I'm just saying, if you want to be taken seriously as an influencer, you should start by taking your living conditions seriously."

The comment hit a nerve. Arthur's success had always been a sore spot for her, a constant reminder of her own unfulfilled aspirations. Her words stung, and he felt his temper begin to flare.

"And what would you know about that?" he shot back. "You've never had to chase your dreams because you've always had everything handed to you on a silver platter."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, her voice dangerously low.

Arthur took a deep breath, knowing he had crossed a line. "I didn't mean it like that," he said, trying to backpedal. But the damage was done.

"You don't get it," Arthur said, his voice tight. "You never have. You think because I make videos and sing songs, I don't have a clue about hard work?"

"I didn't say that," Y/N replied, her voice equally as tense. "I said you should take better care of yourself. This place is a mess, and it's a reflection of your priorities."

The accusation stung, and Arthur felt his cheeks heat up. He had always prided himself on his authenticity, his willingness to show his true self to his followers. Yet here she was, suggesting he was a fraud.

"You think I don't know what real work is?" he spat out, his eyes flashing. "You sit in your fancy office all day, sipping lattes and bossing people around, while I'm out here, trying to make a difference in the lives of my fans."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You're not curing cancer with your videos, Arthur."

The words hung in the air, a challenge that Arthur couldn't ignore. "At least I'm not living a lie," he retorted. "Pretending to be someone I'm not just to climb the corporate ladder."

Y/N's job was a sore subject for her, a constant battle against the expectations of their family's legacy. He opened his mouth to intervene, but she was already responding, her voice icy.

"You wouldn't know the first thing about hard work, Arthur," she said, her eyes glinting. "You play dress-up and make jokes for a living. It's easy to be liked when you're not actually doing anything of substance."

The words hit Arthur like a punch to the gut. He had always felt a little guilty about his chosen career path, especially compared to Y/N's high-flying corporate job. But he also knew that his content brought joy and comfort to millions. He clenched his fists, trying to keep his cool.

"You don't know anything about what I do," he said, his voice measured. "You think it's all fun and games, but there's a lot more to it than you see."

Y/N folded her arms, unmoved by his defense. "Oh, I know all about it," she said. "You sit here, making videos that people watch to forget their own lives, and you think that's meaningful?"

"It is to them," Arthur said, his voice rising. "It's more than you do, stuck in your ivory tower."

Y/N's eyes flashed. "At least I'm not living in a fantasy world," she snapped. "At least I'm not chasing after something that's never going to be more than a hobby."

"It's not a hobby," Arthur said, his voice strained. "It's my life."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Your life? More like your escape," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "You're afraid to face the real world, so you hide behind a screen and pretend you're important."

*****

Arthur's eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared at her, the words cutting deep. He hated her—no, he didn't. He didn't hate her. It was something else, something more complicated. He hated the way she made him feel, the way she brought out his insecurities, the way she questioned his very existence. He hated that she could do that to him.

But he didn't hate her. She was George's sister, and George was his best mate. He couldn't hate her. Could he? The more he thought about it, the more he realized that what he felt was closer to fear. Fear that she might be right. Fear that he was just a glorified clown, dancing for the amusement of the masses.

He took a step towards her, his hands balled into fists. "You don't know anything about me," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "You think you're so much better, but you're just as lost as I am."

Y/N's expression didn't change, but something in her eyes flickered. For a moment, Arthur thought he saw a glimpse of vulnerability, a hint of doubt. But she quickly masked it with a sneer. "You're pathetic," she said. "You're wasting your life on this nonsense."

Arthur felt his heart racing, the blood pounding in his ears. He didn't hate her, not really. But her words stung because they echoed his own fears. He had always wondered if his career was just a facade, a way to avoid the responsibilities of adulthood. Yet here he was, standing up for what he believed in, for the community he had built, the fans who looked up to him.

"You're just jealous," he spat out, the anger giving him courage. "You're jealous that I found something I love, something that makes people happy."

Y/N's eyes narrowed. "You think you're so special," she said. "You're not. You're just a pretty face with a decent singing voice."

Arthur felt his anger boil over. "And you're just a cold-hearted bitch," he said, his voice shaking. "You don't know the first thing about love or passion."

Y/N's eyes went wide with shock at the venom in his words. For a moment, she looked as though she had been slapped. Then, she laughed—a bitter, harsh sound that rang through the flat. "Love and passion? Is that what you call it? A bunch of teenagers worshipping you?"

The room was a battleground, the air thick with animosity. The line between love and hate was paper-thin, and it was clear that they had both danced upon it for too long. Arthur's heart felt as though it was being squeezed in a vice, the weight of her accusations crushing him. Yet, amidst the anger, there was something else—a strange warmth that he couldn't quite explain. It was as if their shared disdain had kindled a spark of something more.

Y/N's eyes searched Arthur's, and for a fleeting moment, he saw a flicker of doubt in her gaze. The mask of superiority slipped, revealing a hint of the insecurity that lay beneath. She had always been the successful one, the one who had everything figured out, while he had stumbled into fame almost by accident. Yet here they were, both lost in their own ways.

"Shut up," Arthur murmured, the words barely audible. He didn't know if he was speaking to her or to the voice in his own head, the one that whispered doubt and fear.

Y/N took a step closer, her eyes flashing. "Make me," she challenged, her voice low and dangerous. The air between them crackled with tension.

Arthur's hand shot out, his fingertips brushing against her cheek. It was a gentle touch, a stark contrast to the harshness of their words. Y/N's eyes widened, and she took a sharp intake of breath, as though she hadn't expected the softness. For a second, they just stared at each other, the electricity between them palpable.

Then, before he could think better of it, Arthur leaned in and kissed her—harshly, desperately. He kissed her as if he was trying to prove a point, to show her that he was more than the sum of his YouTube views and singing talents. He kissed her as if he could erase the years of contempt with one fiery gesture.

Y/N's body stiffened, her eyes widening in shock, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into the kiss, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. It was a strange, intoxicating dance of anger and attraction that neither of them had seen coming. The heat between them grew, the air in the room thickening until it was almost suffocating.

*****

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless. Y/N's cheeks were flushed, her eyes dark with a mix of anger and something else—desire? Arthur couldn't tell. He felt as though he was drowning in confusion, his chest tight with emotion.

"I hate you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. But the way she said it, the way her breath hitched, told him she didn't mean it. Not entirely.

Arthur's chest tightened. "No, you don't," he said, his voice low and intense. "You're just scared."

Y/N's eyes searched his, a storm of emotions raging within them. "Scared of what?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Scared of admitting that maybe, just maybe, we're not so different after all," Arthur said, his voice low and earnest. "Scared of what this could be."

Y/N stared at him, her eyes searched his, looking for a sign that he was joking, that this was all some twisted ploy. But Arthur's gaze was unwavering, his expression raw and vulnerable. The truth of his words hit her like a tidal wave, and she felt the walls she had built around her heart begin to crumble.

"We're nothing alike," she whispered, her voice shaking. But even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. They were both chasing their own versions of success, their own ways of making an impact on the world.

Arthur stepped closer, his hand still resting on her cheek. "We're more alike than you think," he said softly. "We both want to be seen, to be heard, to matter."

Y/N's breath hitched. She didn't hate him, not really. But she had spent so long pushing him away, hiding behind her sarcasm and scorn, because the alternative was too terrifying to consider. If she let him in, if she allowed herself to care, she might just get her heart broken. And she had been down that road before—she wasn't sure she could handle it again.

"I don't do feelings," she said, her voice a feeble attempt at the armor she had worn for so long. But Arthur's hand remained on her cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles that seemed to be unraveling her very soul.

"Well, you're doing a bloody good job of hiding them," Arthur said with a sad smile. "But I can see right through you, Y/N. And I think it's about time we both faced them."

Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of a bluff. But all she found was honesty, a stark contrast to the barbed words they had exchanged just moments ago. Slowly, she reached up and placed her hand over his, her touch tentative yet filled with a spark of hope. "What are you saying, Arthur?"

He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words before speaking them. "I'm saying that maybe, just maybe, we should stop fighting and start understanding each other." His thumb continued to caress her cheek, his gaze never leaving hers. "We're both just trying to find our place in this world, and maybe we could help each other do that."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, the walls she had built around herself feeling more fragile than ever. The idea of letting Arthur in, of admitting that she might need someone, was as terrifying as it was tempting. Yet, she couldn't deny the undeniable pull she felt towards him, the way his touch made her feel seen, understood.

"I don't know if I can do that," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've spent so long pushing people away."

Arthur's eyes searched hers, filled with a gentle understanding that seemed to see right through her tough exterior. "I know," he said, his voice equally soft. "But maybe it's time to try something new."

The silence that fell between them was heavier than any of their previous barbs. Y/N felt the weight of his gaze, the warmth of his hand, and the sincerity of his words. It was a stark contrast to the chaos that usually surrounded their interactions, a gentle reminder that love could emerge from the most unlikely of places.

Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of a lie or a hidden motive. But all she found was a mirror to her own confusion and yearning. Arthur was right—they were both lost in their own ways, but perhaps together they could navigate the tumultuous waters of life.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice shaky with uncertainty. "Okay, let's try."

Their kiss was not gentle this time, but it was not fueled by anger either. It was a kiss of understanding, of two souls colliding in the messiness of their shared existence. Arthur's arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, and she melted into him, her own arms snaking around his waist. It was as though they had been holding onto this moment for years, waiting for the perfect storm of words and emotions to bring it to the surface.

As they broke away, both panting, they stared at each other with a newfound appreciation. The hostility that had once dominated their interactions was now replaced with a strange, thrilling anticipation. They had both been hiding behind their own fears and insecurities, throwing jabs and insults to keep the other at bay. But in that one moment, they had found a common ground—the mess of their lives.

Arthur knew that real love didn't emerge from a perfect, pristine environment. It grew in the cracks of doubt and the weeds of imperfection. It was in the chaos of their shouting match that he had seen the real Y/N, the one who was just as lost and scared as he was. And in that chaos, he had found something beautiful—a spark of connection that was more real than any of the scripted moments in his videos.

They stood there, in the silence that followed the storm of their words, their hearts racing in unison. The tension between them had shifted, no longer a barrier but a bridge, a delicate yet solid connection that neither wanted to break. Y/N's eyes searched Arthur's, looking for confirmation that this was real, that she wasn't just imagining the tenderness in his gaze.

*****

"I'm sorry," Arthur murmured, his thumb still tracing circles on her cheek. "For everything."

Y/N nodded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Me too," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I've been a bitch."

Arthur's hand slid down to her neck, his thumb brushing against the rapid pulse in her throat. "You've had your reasons," he said, his voice gentle. "But let's leave them behind now."

Y/N nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek. "Okay," she whispered. "Let's start again."

Arthur wiped the tear away with his thumb, his eyes never leaving hers. "We don't have to start over," he said softly. "We just have to start… differently."

Y/N took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling against his chest. "Differently," she echoed, the word feeling strange and yet incredibly right on her tongue.

Arthur's gaze searched hers, his eyes filled with a warmth she hadn't seen before. It was as though he had just discovered a hidden treasure, something precious that had been buried beneath layers of anger and misunderstanding.

"I didn't know," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. "I didn't know it could feel like this."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes searched his, and she could see the realization dawning in his gaze—the raw, unfiltered understanding of what love truly meant. It was as if he had just stepped into the sunlight after years of darkness.

Arthur's eyes searched hers, the weight of his realization heavy in his gaze. It was a look that spoke of a thousand unsaid words, of moments of doubt and fear that had led them to this precipice. In that instant, she knew that he saw her—the real her, not the armored version she presented to the world. He saw the vulnerability she had worked so hard to hide, the softness that lay beneath the sharp edges of her sarcasm.

"Neither did I," she murmured, her voice shaky. She felt the warmth of his breath against her skin, the steady beat of his heart under her palm. The tension between them had transformed into something new, something that made her heart flutter in a way she had long ago convinced herself she was immune to.

They stood there, in the quiet aftermath of their confrontation, the air charged with the electricity of their newfound connection. It was strange, terrifying, and yet, somehow, it felt more real than anything she had ever experienced. For the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N allowed herself to hope that maybe, just maybe, she had found someone who truly understood her.

"We'll take it slow," Arthur said, his voice low and soothing. "We'll get to know each other without the baggage of what we've always thought we knew."

Y/N nodded, the tightness in her chest slowly easing. The idea of taking it slow was both comforting and exhilarating. She had always rushed into things, eager to prove herself, to conquer and claim. But with Arthur, she felt the need to be gentle, to tiptoe around the fragility of this newfound bond.

"Okay," she said, her voice a whisper. "We'll start tonight."

*****

They decided to order takeout, a simple meal of fish and chips from the chippy down the street. As they waited, Arthur suggested they watch one of his videos together, one that had a special meaning to him. Y/N agreed, her curiosity piqued.

The video was of Arthur singing a cover of an obscure indie song, the melody haunting and beautiful. As he watched her reaction, he explained how the lyrics had resonated with him during a particularly tough time in his life, how the words had given him the courage to keep going. Y/N listened, her eyes never leaving the screen, and for the first time, she saw the depth of his passion, the raw emotion that fueled his art.

When the video ended, she turned to him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I had no idea," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I never knew you felt like that."

Arthur took her hand, his thumb tracing comforting circles on her skin. "There's a lot you don't know about me," he said, his voice gentle. "And I want to show you."

The night stretched out before them, a canvas of unexplored possibilities. They talked, shared stories, and laughed—the kind of laughter that washed away the years of tension and left them feeling lighter, freer. It was a tentative start, a delicate dance of opening up to each other.

As they sat there, on the couch in Arthur's cluttered flat, surrounded by the detritus of his life, Y/N felt something within her shift. It was as though she had been holding her breath for years, and now, finally, she could exhale.

The kiss that followed was not driven by anger or spite. It was born of a newfound respect, a tentative curiosity that grew into a blaze of passion. Their lips met, and it was as though all the words they had left unsaid were finally finding their voice.

When they parted, Y/N's heart was racing, her cheeks flushed. She looked into Arthur's eyes and saw the same wonder reflected in his gaze. They had crossed a line, stepped into a place neither had dared to tread before.

"I don't know what this is," she murmured, her voice husky.

Arthur leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. "Neither do I," he said. "But I know I don't want to let it go."

And so, with the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the window, they embraced the uncertainty, the thrill of the unknown. They had found something in each other that was more than just friendship or rivalry. It was a connection that defied logic, a bond forged in the fires of their shared pain and doubt.

As they sat there, holding each other tightly, Y/N felt the first stirrings of a love that had been buried beneath layers of contempt. It was a love that had been waiting for the right moment to emerge, a love that was as real and as raw as the music that filled Arthur's soul.

The future was uncertain, fraught with the potential for either heartbreak or a love that could surpass their wildest dreams. Yet, in that moment, all that mattered was the here and now. They decided to take it one day at a time, to build their relationship on a foundation of honesty and mutual respect.

The weeks that followed were filled with tentative smiles and gentle touches, as they both learned to navigate the new waters of their blossoming relationship. Y/N began to see Arthur not just as George's friend, but as a complex individual with his own fears and aspirations. She admired his dedication to his craft and the way he connected with his fans, bringing joy to the lives of so many.

Arthur, in turn, discovered the strength and resilience behind Y/N's sharp exterior. He saw the passion she brought to her work, the way she fought for what she believed in, even when the odds were stacked against her. Her ambition was no longer a source of irritation but a quality he found himself drawn to, a reminder that there was more to life than just his own small corner of the internet.

*****

Their first date was a simple walk along the South Bank, the Thames reflecting the soft glow of the setting sun. They talked about their hopes, their fears, and the moments that had shaped them into the people they were today. The conversation flowed as easily as the river beside them, and with each step, they grew closer.

Holding hands, they stumbled upon a small jazz club, the music spilling out onto the cobbled streets. Arthur looked at Y/N, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Dance with me?" he asked, leading her inside.

The intimate venue was crowded, but they found a spot near the stage. As the music swelled around them, they swayed together, lost in the rhythm and the warmth of their bodies. Y/N felt a sense of belonging she hadn't experienced in a long time, as though she had finally found a place where she truly fit.

Their relationship grew steadily, each moment revealing a new facet of the other. They discovered shared interests, like a love for obscure British sitcoms and a passion for long, meandering conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. The flat that had once been a battleground of snark and sarcasm now echoed with laughter and whispered secrets.

Yet, as much as they enjoyed their time together, the specter of their past remained. George, caught in the middle, watched with a mix of bewilderment and happiness as his sister and best friend grew closer. He knew the history of their animosity, the depth of the scars that still lingered beneath the surface.

One evening, as the three of them sat around Arthur's kitchen table, the tension grew thick. Y/N reached for Arthur's hand under the table, a silent plea for support. He squeezed it gently, a reminder that they were in this together.

"Look," Arthur said, breaking the silence. "We've all said things we regret. But we're trying to move forward. Can't we just… be happy for each other?"

George studied them, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he leaned back in his chair. "I just want you two to be happy," he said. "But don't expect me to understand it."

Y/N and Arthur shared a look, a silent promise to navigate this new chapter with care. It was a step forward, a small but significant one. They knew they had a long way to go, but for now, they were content to simply enjoy the dance they had found themselves in.

*****

Taglist~

@gvf23 @xxkatxgracexx @pookietv

[jfksnymph]

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵?

president! Jack Kennedy x first lady! reader | angst... / implied smut | you find out about Jack's affairs... this does not have a happy ending or resolution. | also on ao3! i wrote this long ago lol

Today was like any other day. You were content with life, you are the new president’s wife after all, and you had 2 beautiful children, and everything you could ask for, except one thing-- your husband’s time.

Of course, he’s going to be busy, he’s the president, but the problem was the few times he was free, he’d never spend that free time with you, he’d say he has to do something, and when he described what he had to do, it seemed ridiculously outlandish. You weren't a politician nor president and don't know how elaborate tasks can be, but you certainly know these excuses he comes up with are too ridiculous to be truthful

You always felt a ping of suspicion when you heard these things from him, but you put it to the back of your mind. You told yourself ‘It’s nothing’ ‘You are just trying to find a reason to be ungrateful for what you have’ ‘he hasn’t been with other women since you two were young and he said he’d never do it again you're overreacting’ so you just never questioned him, that is until now.

You had gotten a call when you were reading from a woman claiming she had been with Jack months ago and many times after that and all this about how she's seen him with other women which you're assuming is what made her call. You assumed she was lying for a minute then you thought about all the times he's made those idiotic excuses as to why he can’t spend time with you.

You felt heartbroken. You could not believe he was doing this again. You thought it was such an adolescent thing that happened once, but it wasn’t; he was still doing it, he was still cheating.

ㆍㆍㆍ

The entire rest of the day you felt horrible, you didn't want to do anything, this was not great since tonight you had to have dinner with your husband and other people you have no interest in ever speaking to.

Jack came home as you were getting ready, you were getting ready slower than usual. He noticed, but he said nothing. He got himself ready, you were sitting in front of your vanity, you looked in the mirror staring at yourself, your perfectly done makeup, your perfect hair, the curve of your face, you were beautiful, but yet that wasn't enough.

Jack steps behind your sitting form, puts his hands on your shoulders, and says “You look nice…” In his usual tone, he gives you a small peck on the cheek.

you keep the same stoic expression.

not being moved by his words, you say “Thank you.” in the blandest tone you can manage, you feel like crying, you can feel your whole body working to stop tears from spilling from your eyes.

“What's eating you?” he asks while tilting his head, his hands still placed on your shoulder, you break, turn to him sharp and fast, and stand up quickly “What do you care? I'm sure you’ve got happier women to spend your company with,” you reply.

He pauses and his eyes wander, making a blatant fake attempt at making you feel like he has no idea what you were talking about.

“Don't.” you let him know you’re not playing this game.

“I haven't got a clue! what are you on about!?” his voice raises which you do not like, he’s trying to make you feel crazy.

“You know what I'm talking about. And it’s more than one woman, I rather you tell the truth”

“I cannot tell the truth about an affair that never happened”

“Okay. you want to lie. You can go to your diner and lie about why I'm not there too.” you begin to take your earrings off threatening not to go to this dinner.

“No, no. okay. It was just a few times!" Why does he say this as if that’s good?

“A few?!”

“They are not you though. you are my wife, I come home to you! I love you!” Every word he says makes you even more enraged

“I'm your wife but not enough of your wife I suppose?”

“No that's.. That is not what I'm trying to communicate to you, I... I just can’t help it” He has got to be kidding… he said the same thing years ago

“You never changed. You promised me you’d never do this again when we got married. You lied.”

you feel yourself start to cry as you sit back on the chair in front of your vanity Jack brings himself down to sit on the floor in front of you, something he would normally not do due to his condition. He takes your hands into his

“I’m sorry… I’ve told you, I can’t control it. this is different from other folks' situations.” He says this as if it will make you feel any better,

“What the hell is different Jack? You're sleeping with other women just like any old cheater.”

He becomes frustrated that his point is not reaching you he furrows his eyebrows and speaks “Listen to me, this may sound ridiculous but I can’t go without it, it's so bad it hurts me sometimes.”

“So why not do it with me, not random women? we haven't had sex in weeks” This whole point he’s trying to make made no sense to you

“I’m not sure…” he's not sure? thats it? yeah, this was total malarkey he was just coming up with excuses. “Jack, I'm not doing this.” you feel your heart beating so fast it feels as if it’ll burst

“You leave me alone with our children so you can sleep with a 'few' women, do you understand how that makes me feel?” you frown feeling even more sorrow and anger

“I know baby… I know how you feel” he lets go of your hand and runs his hands down your leg, "no, you don't Jack..." "I do..." His thumb rubs your ankles before he takes your shoes off and moves his hand up to caress your thigh “Just let me make you feel better… the dinner can be rescheduled.” 

As he caressed and undressed you, you felt weak all over again, you felt trapped in this now-forming cycle, and he knew how to keep you in it.

[1007xf]

Hallucinations

Ever since EP3 first came out and I found out that the hallucinations during the Translation Core fight change depending on your team and that each member has a corresponding one, I've been, well, very normal about this fact. I've been ruminating over theories in my brain ever since then and now with EP4 behind me I think it's about time I laid down my thoughts about each one in written form for whoever has the patience to humor me.

DISCLAIMER this entire post could be me overthinking some cool designs. But overthinking is like my thing so. Can't help it☆☆

Now, I'm going in with the assumption that each hallucination represents some sort of deep seated fear within each character. Maybe not necessarily their biggest fear ever, but definitely something that eats away at them from the inside. So, let's begin with looking at each of them in alphabetical order!

Akizet

Starting off strong here with I Have No Idea. Seriously. For all of these, I have some pretty robust interpretations, but Akizet's the only one that fully stumps me.

I can make out some elements, the receptors on it seem to be tir, but they hardly match any character we know of. The shape kind of fits Miltza, but her receptors have 5 "fingers", not 4, and Kazki doesn't fit at all either. So either this is someone from her past we haven't met yet (Rouzesche? Unlikely), not any specific person at all, or I'm missing something.

Obviously something that sets this hallucination apart is the pink "strings" coming out of it. This is the only one that has them. Looks like parasites to me, probably secri since we know what zuzucri infection looks in quite great detail and it's not like this. This is not particularly surprising, we know Akizet dealt with things like this as a surface runner, though I suppose this could hint to how her larval death went. Also to be noted, this hallucination lacks the hole in the chest multiple other hallucinations which depict someone "infected" have. This leads me to believe this is a larval obesk, as opposed to a qou, who can't even get infected by secri.

Last thing I'd like to add is that this thing kind of looks like... a weird amalgamation of multiple obesk. The 3 legs all look like they were taken from different bodies, and also it kind of looks like it had a second head that got decapitated? So like I said when I was talking about the mystery tir receptors, maybe this isn't a specific individual, but a mixed representation of a parasitic infection? Like the multiple victims, all having fallen prey to the same hivemind, now are fused and melted together into one monster. But I'm actually really unsure about this. I promise I'm more confident with the other ones, this one is just really confusing to me for some reason!

Bozko

Okay, this one is quite interesting. I'll first get out of the way what I think this is not.

This guy clearly has jut receptors. But I don't belive it's Cavik or Tozik, since it doesn't look like either of them beyond anything extremely superficial.

As for I do think it is... this is Vekoa. Appearance wise, I'd say she fits.

The receptors are the same, the one eye, and the cape (?) thing behing the hallucination isn't too far from Vekoa's clothing. Also, this hallucination is a qou, since it has a hole in the chest, denoting the destroyed mindcore and hijacked body.

Though beyond just looks I do believe it also makes sense from a character standpoint. Everyone at this point would be scared of Vekoa, since all clues lead to her spearheading the collapse, however Bozko seems to dread her the most out of anybody. He multiple times mentions how he thinks she's to blame for the entire tragedy. He zeroes in on eliminating Vekoa being the solution to everything, to the point he starts sounding somewhat sinister, definitely concerning. Obviously the situation was much more complicated, however Bozko is unstable and needs to anchor himself to anything in order to stay present, and burdened by his past as he is, that anchor seems to be protecting the team and culling the infection. To him, Vekoa is the root of it, and technically he isn't wrong, but his way of thinking and processing the situation is very dangerous. He has tunnel vision on the idea that he is alone, alone with the monster, with the predator, with Vekoa, that it's him and him only that needs to bear the responsibility of taking her on, because he fucked that up in his life, so now he needs to set the record straight in his death.

Overall, what at first seems like a twisted representation of Vekoa slowly becomes a representation of Bozko's self destructive, self punishing spiral.

(I could talk about this guy for so long but it's so hard because his story touches on some real personal stuff for me. He just like me frfr but honestly it's not even funny anymore why are the pixels on the screen stealing words from my mouth)

Cavik

Do I. Do I need to say anything. Seriously.

I think the fact that this is so obvious fits Cavik. He's always been so open about himself and his ideas, to the point it can become... problematic.

Seeing how important Akizet is to him like this is quite sad. Losing her could very well be his greatest fear, especially losing her in such a violent, terrible (haha get it. Because terrible life. Parasites?) manner.

What I would like to point out is that while Cavik's hallucination is clearly Akizet, Cavik is nowhere near close to being Akizet's hallucination. Just something to think about. Their dynamic is healthy and will definitely not degrade in time because of Events that have transpired.

IK Golem

(Or well, Karik, since Itzil is asleep at this point) (right) (they're asleep right) (I'm not misremembering this no? 0_0)

Well, this is Gakvu! Funny thing, girl is featured in a whopping 3 hallucinations. Congratulations?? I think???

Now, I will not give this one too much thought. It's just a Gakvu turned into a husk. The "real" hallucination of Karik appears only after the Pale Halls are unlocked.

Hey girl.

This is Telyu! The fact that the hallucination changes is so cool. Yeah, but I don't have much to say here either. Karik is scared of losing a close friend. Painfully normal fear for a painfully normal kiv. What is interesting is that Telyu retains Gakvu's melted leg. I don't think that means anything, but I thought I'd mention it.

Gakvu

Huh. Looks like she couldn't be bothered to even come up with a hallucination for herself. I'm joking.

Now, here, this is less based on actual clues and more just me interpreting something. I think this creature represents the Conflict as a whole. Gakvu always thinks of the bigger picture, so her fear being this Conflict itself fits. And, even visually, I'd say it fits. It's a ambiguous mass, with many eyes, many claws, a great thing that only works because so many minds are dedicated to senseless fighting, stuck in their ways of thinking, a ball that in it's own stubbornness throws itself down the hill, only to inevitably get hurt, only for inevitably tragedy to strike. This stubbornness to stay in your old ways, this closed off way of thinking, is what Gakvu resents, is what she ultimately fears, because she knows how destructive they can be. From the trauma of how she was raised (yes, trauma, she may act cool, but it clearly greatly affects her) in the structurist way, to the imminent threat of her execution (I do hope she doesn't die that way. She'll definitely die, I just hope she gets to do it on her own terms) she's always lived with the fear of a much greater entity out to get her.

An interesting thing, her hallucination and Bozko's kind of parallel eachother? Or are moreso foils? Bozko's is the immediate problem, Vekoa, the person propagating this infection, but Gakvu's is the Conflict itself, the bigger picture. It's cool to see how they view their situation in such different ways, both of their ways of thinking being both useful, but also potentially dangerous. I generally tend to think of Bozko and Gakvu as foils to eachother in one way or another, but that's another discussion entirely.

Miltza

Miltza. MiltzaMiltzaMiltza. Sigh.

Again, this is one of the very obvious ones. Though it's cool that you can cross reference this with another hallucination of Gakvu, the one IK has. It really shows how Miltza sees Gakvu, even if she tries to be reasonable, not as a qou, as an individual, but as a saboteur, as an instrument for mayhem and strife. Instead of the hole in the chest, the hand symbol is shown, a mark of Gakvu's alliance. Miltza literally doesn't see her heart.

Obviously I don't think Miltza is that vile. She clearly was... trying. And Gakvu herself seems to recognize as much, unfortunately by then it's too late and she's gone. But the hallucinations are the worst a mind can conceive, so I don't think she's really to blame for this.

Miltza you certainly were a character. Bon voyage girl you were kinda crazy for believing in allat <3

Tozik

Last but definitely, definitely not least.

This is. Okay. It's not okay.

Obviously the figure in the left is Bozko, the one on the right is Gakvu, the one in the middle could be Cavik, but it could also be Tozik himself. The receptors could literally be either of them. Yes, they have a curve, which would be Cavik, but the style in which the hallucinations are present seems to kinda hate the straight lines and angles of the Ekivik style sooo... it's a bit hard to tell? Either way, I think both interpretations carry similar enough meaning.

Tozik cares. A lot. He always did, Akizet was just terrible at reading him (to nobody's surprise). When his fear gets extracted out of him and made manifest, it's a corrupted, lost version of his closest friends. While he seems to keep everyone at an arm's length, his friendship with Bozko gets outright stated and it's clear he was closer to Gakvu too. (As for Cavik, if that is indeed him, I guess they shared a caste and had similar duties so maybe they worked together more?? I don't know. Their tie doesn't seem as personal as the other 2 so that's another reason I tend to lean into that being Tozik himself)

And now? Now, beyond everything else happening, he has to witness these 2 friends deteriorate more and more, Bozko's struggle being obvious, and the cracks starting to show in Gakvu's façade too. Ironically, he is the first to start physically deteriorating, and at a much faster pace, a little later on. Maybe because this hallucination doesn't have the chest hole, this isn't the fear of them becoming husks, but rather the fear of them succumbing to their own internal struggles and losing it?

Another interesting detail, this hallucination seems to have blood on its hands. This is the only one with such a detail. It obviously means something. I don't know what, but it must mean something.

Conclusion??

Hi are you still with me. No. Ok :)

But really, if you somehow read this far I really appreciate you <3<3<3

I would like to add something. I'm not on the discord (too scared :( ) and I've never really participated in online discussions yet. I've never seen anybody else speak so in depth about this topic specifically yet, however obviously I could have missed something. So if I just stated a bunch of obvious shit everyone knew already I'm soooorryyy. I tried to give it my own flare okay☆☆☆

Overall I'm glad to finally get all this info off my chest and into the void of tumblr. I definitely have more to say about other things and maybe I will in the future!! I was thinking about writing some of my thoughts on each character respectively, maybe.

And once again thank you for reading and good night is 3 in the morning for me and I need to get up in 3 hours <3

[truearichu]

MOONLIGHT - JJK

synopsis

In which Jungkook slips through the crowds and against your better judgment, your defense. or, once every four thousand nine hundred ninety-two years, Pluto meets Neptune.

pairing/au | freelancer!jungkook x f. reader

warnings | other than foul language- none here!

wc | 1324

playlist | strawberries & cigarettes - Troye Sivan & you and me - JENNIE

!! cross posted on wattpad !! m, dni ⋆ m.list . wattpad . ask !

"If you ask me, which no one ever thinks of doing- what's up with that?"

Jeongguk tilts his head as he continues to listen to you. What the fuck did I just get myself into ? he thinks. All he'd done was ask if you knew the directions to Hendrickson Street. Wanted to try new desserts in a new cafe that recently opened up, maybe flirt with a girl or two while he's at it.

Instead, he got distracted by the exquisite lights of New York. Having never been to this part of town, he wanted to soak it all in. By the time he noticed, all of his friends had moved along.

He hadn't meant to upset you (he's a polite kid, mind you), let alone get an earful on how you have no clue where you are. Figuratively and literally, he supposes.

You think you're doing him a favor by giving him guidance in the form of what he should not do. He thinks this is an example of why exactly no good deed goes unpunished.

"Actually, I know the answer, it's 'cause they think I'm stupid. Which, let me get this straight, I'm not fuckin' stupid , I'm lazy. There's a goddamn difference! 'Parently, Daddy thinks this 'journey' will straighten me out. Straighten me out!"

If there's one thing you should know about Jeongguk, it's that he likes making assumptions. Assumes and assumes. Gets himself in trouble all the time. Creates his own problems. Likes solving them too. Makes him feel like a detective with his own little case.

From your fifteen minute vent, he'd made a few assumptions. Firstly, he assumes that you’re drunk. There’s a sweetness to you, from your slurring to the way you lean on him for support. 

Assumes this makes you feel important--offering your opinion you probably have no right to give. Figures you probably fucked up big time–a trust fund kid gone rogue–but, instead of getting away with it, you're paying the price. Likes that you're also struggling. That it's not just him who is failing to keep his head above the water because he never learned how to swim.

Dislikes how your trash is his treasure. (Regardless, you're both stuck in it). New York's been his escape, his new identity, his new problem that he's trying to solve. Yet that same place couldn’t be more different for you. He feels a little bad, a little upset at the fact that your mistake haunts you in the form of nooks and crannies all over Brooklyn.

Feels a little embarrassed too. He has to be the one to listen to your vent instead of your friends. Maybe you don't have real friends either. In that way, he supposes, you two are similar. Would make a good title : Runway Thief and a Banished Princess .

"Same Daddy who's never given me a reason to work now getting upset that, that, what, I don't work?! 'You bring shame to our family name'. I bring shame to our family name ?!"

Fully acting out the night this all went down, exhaustion creeps into your voice. You could be an actor, Jeongguk thinks, could also be a director. Would suit you, having your ideas come to life. Assumes that you're good at storytelling. Could probably make any story interesting regardless of the actual content. To be frank, he is now a little interested. Tries not to look it, but he's wondering why exactly you're here.

You've been talking and talking, but no real words are coming out. Just blabbering for the sake of blabbering. Making him feel as if he knows everything about you, even though you've really only told him you're a trust fund baby.

'S why he's beginning to like you. You force him to make assumptions so can feel as if he understands a world that he otherwise would not get a chance to understand. Maybe you're trying to get everything out because when's the next time anyone's going to care?

"Baekho could probably burn this house down and everything in it and Daddy would still look at him as if he's oh so smart and just so kind and just so perfect! Not a disgrace, I'm sure!"

Baekho ? Name sounds familiar. Rich kids' names always sound familiar. Wonders what your name is. From the looks of you, he could tell you don't belong. Not here. Maybe not anywhere. But especially not in the clustered alleyway with graffiti as its monument. Not with smells of urine and cigarette butts scattered across the plaza where you both are seated now.

Plaza's always crowded.

Funny.

How, of all the people he could've asked regarding the whereabouts of Cafe Mami , he chose you. Feels kind of nice to be chosen despite knowing there's no significance about it.

You don't really dress rich, another reason why Jeongguk figures you are. Why prove something that doesn't need proving? You look secure. Probably always have been: financially, socially, mentally. Probably always had your place. Probably always felt crucial. Like everything revolved around you: people, opportunities, the sun.

S' the same reason you hate the bustling streets of New York. Hate the way everybody talks the walk and walks the walk like they own this place. Not used to being a footnote, and having no one to express why exactly you loathe this place, all your frustrations have been building. Droplets of wrath have been filling your pot.

They have been for a while now. It was just a matter of time before they overflowed.

"Oh if I'm just so horrible, then why don't just go ahead and disown me?! I'm trying my best but that's not enough! Never enough!"

With a loud pant, you droop back to the seat. Finished ranting, the post-vent realization comes to you. Oversharing, you're used to. Secrets had always slipped your mouth after a drink or two. The reason for that was because money could hush. Who would dare to let your sacred words be spread unless you didn't want them to?

There's an intensity to how Jeongguk looks at you, as if you're losing it, as if he can read you through the facade you've perfected over the years. Anything about losing agitates you. You've already lost your college degree, money, family, yourself, your way. Is there more? Your mind is the only thing you have left. Your experiences. Your moments that will stick like sweat on a summer day. Will that soon be gone too?

Though, looking vulnerable is a nice change. So scared of making mistakes like the one you just made, it's freeing to know the result of your actions. Maybe next time you make a mistake, you'll be sent to Korea. Who cares? Korea's pretty.

Probably have family there anyway. Family who zoned out while "listening" to the words of your oh so wonderful father who apparently believes banishing their child is the best form of punishment. Or, if they did listen, still probably wouldn't care enough to follow through. Thinking of family, or lack thereof now, makes your wrath rise all over again.

Sighing, you realize you hadn't really taken a moment to look at the boy. He looks just like you now: a commoner, a name that blends in, associated with the crowd. Yet at the same time, he stands out. An exquisite light. Maybe, just like how you once were. Pretty platinum blonde hair, emerald eyes, mole right under his lips. But he has Asian features: small face, monolid eyes, honey kissed skin. A mix maybe?

"Sorry?" Jeongguk mutters, feeling heat creep up to the back of his neck from your examination on his face. His voice is higher than you expected. Could be a singer, K-Pop idol maybe, you assume. Jeongguk isn't the only one who likes making assumptions.

"Uh, walk straight, take a left. No, right. Just wherever you see the streetlight with stickers on top. Cafe Mami will be right around the corner." 

  ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ 

a few more notes ||

this was originally planned out to be a series, unfortunately, that did NOT happen. but I did want you all to see where I was kinda going with this? I didn’t really like how it turned out, hahaha !! there is no resolution, more of a collision between two broken people xx

[meanbossart]

Alright, I am like 90% sure there is ONE line in A Novel Experience touching on Gale GTFOing rapidly, so I don't think there are answers in there for me. So I come to you and ask-WTF went on between Gale and Drow???

Alright, so

There are two versions to what happened to Gale in my first campaign (the OG DU drow campaign that this whole universe is based around), lets begin with the technical version. As I've only somewhat recently come to understand, my Gale was bugged. I had 1 interaction early in the game that slightly veered into romance which didn't go anywhere, and first chance I had I clarified that I was not interested in him that way (the whole reason why It happened in the first place was because i misunderstood his dialogue). Despite this, and despite me turning him down in every romantic interaction following, I kept getting them and my interactions with him were as if we were romantically involved. I even got one exchange (the one about muscles glistening and cheeks flushed) twice, and rejected him both times.

So, later in the game once DU drow and Astarion sucessfully 5d chess-ed their way into falling In love, I was surprised to still be informed i had to "break things off" with Gale if I wanted to get with him. Which I did. And he gave me a whole spiel about it.

Now it's crucial you understand this was early in the game's release, I went into it completely blind and I had never played a game like Baldur's Gate before, so I was not familiar with the mechanics at all, which... Kind of led me to believe Gale was just like that normally.

From that point on I was highly amused, but for roleplaying purposes I decided my drow would have been highly annoyed and a little creeped out. And so I proceeded to be extremely rude to the guy at every chance I got. This eventually resulted In him pursuing the crown of Karsus despite me (rudely) telling him that was a very dumb idea.

The second version of what happened, as I already touched on above a little bit, Is the Narrative one. As I mentioned I had no clue what was and wasn't supposed to happen, so I just... Went along with it within the role-play.

So our beloved DU drow gets worms. He goes on a grand adventure with this weird possy of people to find a cure. When the tiefling party comes everybody except Astarion wants to get into his pants (because I left him on the beach for like a week and then proceeded to be The Rudest to him, sorry babe, I didn't see your pale ass and the asshole dialogue options were Really funny).

Someone else who Didn't seem to wanna fuck him was the wizard. He said he just wanted to show him a magic trick and he (and, I'll admit, me) really thought that was just that. The scene unfolds, Gale tries to teach DU Drow to cast a spell but his 9 intelligence says No. The unsolicited date ends abruptly because Gale is upset that a champion fighter without a single cantrip makes for a shitty wizard. DU Drow thinks thats the end of that - It's Not.

Then what proceeds to happen is a long, annoying, somewhat unsettling dynamic where Gale continually tries to pursue him throughout the game, coming to the point where the guy I'm Actually interested in thinks we are together - and when DU drow tells him verbatim that he had no idea they were even a thing in Gale's mind, he has to hear him whine about it. Add to that the fact that all Gale talks about is his ex-girlfriend, DU drow is (kind of justifiably) led to believe he must be a Profound weirdo to whom he cannot ever say even a Neutral word to again lest he becomes any more infatuated with him - 0r whatever the hell is going on.

Whether it be DU drow's own inflated ego or the actual truth, when Gale begins to pursue the crown he also assumes he's just doing it to spite him - so he isn't the kindest to him about that either.

And within this narrative that I concocted around a simple bug that didn't let me end a romance, I cannot imagine Anyone getting on particularly well with Gale within my main party. Drow thinks he's madly in love with him, Shadowheart is probably a little confused but she trusts DU Drow's word on the matter more than the Wizard's, Astarion thinks... What Astarion thinks.

So, no, they didn't part on the best of terms.

Before anyone gets mad, I assure you - I've completed the game again since then, I realize this is Not the intended Gale experience. He's a hysterical and deeply interesting character and only Slightly clingy and weird.

But, you gotta admit, this is way funnier.

[licncourt]

Is there a significance to Louis being the one to drain Claudia while Lestat is the one that “fills” her? I mean outside of what it says about Louis and him feeling on a child and feeding on humans and his morality etc.

I see it in a way that it’s so they both made her, but more so asking if it has anything to do with their relationships with her. Is it supposed to tell us anything with how they both interact with her etc

I don’t know if any of this is making sense..

Omg YES!!! There is!! I've talked about it as part of a larger answer but I've wanted to talk about it as its own thing for a while! I looked for like fifteen minutes to find the post where I first mentioned it but the Tumblr search feature said absolutely not [edit: found it!]. I'm going to link my book meta posts about Louis' female coding [here and here], Lestat's female coding, both of them as "bad women", incest in IWTV, Loustat’s conflicting masculinity, and the Greek tragedy parallels of the family because I really think this is part of a bigger puzzle that I can't go into detail on in one post. In short, I don't know if it was the intention that her turning clue us in on some of the weirdness to come, but it certainly fits right in.

Basically the point I was making in the post I couldn't find was that Claudia's turning mimicked intercourse and conception because of exactly what you said, especially with the explicitly sexual experience of feeding. In the reading you mentioned, Claudia becomes a womb in relation to Louis, an empty vessel for the creation of a child. Lestat's blood acts like a semen analogue and makes her what she is, but I also think it works in reverse, viewing the act of draining her as the insemination/catalyst and the turning as a sort of gestation. There's also an added layer with the babytrapping element of what Lestat does, traditionally done by a woman to a man, but could also happen with the roles reversed. The duality fits Louis and Lestat, because I think they each have distinctly maternal and paternal qualities in their relationship to Claudia.

Incest also has an undeniable role in multiple VC relationship dynamics, and that's reflected in the uncomfortable connotations around Claudia's creation. It's a perfect representation of how the family relationships were perverted from day one in the sense that there was a corruption of the natural order, an imbalance, blurred lines as to everyone's position in the family. Louis and Lestat are both husband and wife to each other, each a mother and father to Claudia, and Claudia is a daughter to them both while seeing herself as a wife to Louis, not to mention the semi-reversal of their places where Claudia takes on a maternal role towards him. There was never a solid foundation to begin with, so why would there only be one answer, you know?

With the reading of Louis as a mother and Lestat as a father, Lestat adheres rather well to the "if you are raised with an angry man in your house, there will always be an angry man in your house" idea with Louis as the more nurturing, emotional parent. Lestat's biggest struggle in the books is with repeating cycles/unbreakable curses, and in many ways he reenacts that abuse of his father onto his own family. Louis actually shares some traits with Gabrielle in this regard too, using hyper-intellectualism and calculated coldness as a weapon against Lestat's anger, just like she did with the Marquis.

Unlike with Gabrielle though, Louis never directs that coldness at Claudia. In fact, she might have respected him more if he had. Instead, Claudia exploits his weakness where she's concerned to mold him into what she's lacking and what he had a part in taking away from her. He's the giver in the relationship, indulging whatever whims she has in a desperate bid for love and acceptance even as it makes her think less and less of him. In fact, it seems like mocking Louis' supposed fragility and weakness is the only thing she and Lestat can find common ground with sometimes. The whole situation reminds me so much of that Bonnie Burstow quote:

Often father and daughter look down on mother (woman) together. They exchange meaningful glances when she misses a point. They agree that she is not bright as they are, cannot reason as they do. This collusion does not save the daughter from the mother’s fate.

The other way to approach the reading of the turning is with Louis in a fatherly role of provider, mediator, and head of the household and Lestat in the mother's role. This approach relates pretty deeply to Lestat's more female-coded characteristics in general and the way the generational curses that started with Gabrielle (or maybe even before her) carried into Claudia via Lestat. Lestat carries the wounds of his mother's coldness and her envy so deeply that he crumbles at the sight of his own likeness in Claudia because it's also Gabrielle's. He's irrevocably linked to this sort of matrilineal pattern of alienation.

Much like his mother and daughter, Lestat is very "bad woman" coded in his own way, depicted in IWTV as shrill, vain, shallow, and vindictive, like a Medea or Jezebel figure. He really does come across as a competitive, jealous mother with too much of her own trauma to keep it from infecting her daughter. The battleground becoming the husband/father really is very Greek tragedy, Elektra (the daughter) killing Clytemnestra (the mother) for her crimes against Agamemnon (the father).

It's all just very messy, but it wouldn't be IWTV if it wasn't. I could really ramble all day about the bizarre but super interesting gender roles, sexual dynamics, and ideas of masculinity/femininity in VC because omg there's so much to talk about.

[seirei-bh]

I'm trying to calculate or at least approximate in headcanon the ages that I think each character is in New Gen

First according to ep 5, Ysaline is 22 years old, since she says that she was 9 when her sister Tasha was 3, and now her sister is 16, (although since each sucrette is customizable, I think each player can have the freedom to decide what age prefer to imagine that they have their sucrette in New Gen, and that's what I'm going to do with mines)

Anyway, this also gives us a clue as to at least Thomas's current age. And also this other important fact: Thomas is 10 when OldSucrette (Lynn) is 17. So they are 7 years apart.

And there's supposed to be a 3-year time jump after Love Life to the special crossover ep. Since Lynn is 26 in LL, she is 29 in that special ep.

If we subtract 7 from 29, then Thomas is 22 years old. The same one as supposedly Ysaline canonically.

Now, it is much more difficult to estimate the age of the other characters. The only clue we have is that Elenda said in ep 4 that she was 6-7 when Devon was 10-11. Taking into account that many stories in video games, books and animes sometimes tend to use even and round numbers in big time-skips so that readers can easily remember the dates, it makes me assume that 20 years have passed since that time. So Elenda would be 26-27 and Devon about 30-31. Now the problem is that we don't know if Roy and Devon are the same age or if Roy is younger, we only know that they went to the same high school and so did Elenda, and these three met each other since they were kids, but I'm inclined to think that Roy and Devon were more like friends in a sense of older-younger brothers, since Devon seems older due to his features and behavior, so perhaps Roy is the same age as Elenda. I can be wrong though, and Roy and Devon being the same age, but this is what I think for now~

We also don't know Amanda's age, but due to her features, she appears to be around the age of Thomas and Elenda. Although Elenda in a scene from ep 3 defines herself as "the fairy godmother of Devenementiel" and says that she was there from the beginning, while Amanda seems like a recent member of the company, which makes me think that perhaps Elenda is a little older than Amanda.

Jason could be either Roy's age or Devon's age, but I'm inclined to think that it would be more convincing for Jason to be Devon's age, given his features, and since they are both company bosses and direct rivals, it would make sense for them to be the same age, and olders than the other crushes.

And Brune seems from her features to be somewhat older than Elenda, but perhaps not as old as Devon.

So my final conclusions are:

Thomas: 22 (the only age probably canon for now) Amanda: between 22-24 Roy: 26/27 Devon: 30/31 Jason: 30/31

Elenda: 26/27 Brune: 28~

There are other possibilities, of course. But the only thing we can be quite sure of is Thomas's age, being 7 years older than Lynn and the same as Ysaline, and that Devon is 4 years older than Elenda. It's also possible, for example, that they are all 22 except Devon and Jason being 26, but Rayan Zaidi is 33 in UL and Devon and Jason's features seem -at least from my pov- closer to that age than in the middle of the twenties~

Anyway, I'd like to know the opinion based on these calculations and/or headcanons of other players regarding this topic 💜

I guess we won't know until they confirm it in the game, if they confirm it in future eps, however if it is never revealed, I'd really like to know what the canonical ages of each crush are. So @chinomiko if you ever see this, please it'd be wonderful if you could answer this some day, or at least if these ideas are close to the canon. I know that the age of each character is something that doesn't have too much importance since everyone can imagine what they want, but I am especially curious about Jason and Devon <3 Besides these details are always useful for fanfic material.

[thefirstknife]

hey have you seen the lore tabs for the exotic ghost shell and ship in the super high levels of the season pass? if so what do you make of them. like, speaker is a new light, has a name starting with s, is dealing with vex, and speaks as if theyre part of humanity in the ship lore tab like that cant possibly be maya sundaresh right but im not sure what other candidates there could be since the episode is called echoes and is almost certainly going to involve the vex on nessus

I've seen them! There's also one on the sparrow of the same type. I genuinely have no idea. There's some clues in the tabs, but they're super hard to understand without context, but yes, I do believe this is Maya.

Spectrum Shell, Unbridled Iridescence sparrow, Polychroma ship. Putting them in this order, because of the number on the log. Each lore has a "personal log" with a number: 0002, 0025 and 0031.

It starts with a vague description that I don't think shows a new light or a Guardian at all:

It is strange to be awake, physically, after so long spent wandering.

This is very peculiar; it has the vibe of this person having existed in some other form before gaining physical form. Since we know we'll be dealing with the Vex and Maya, this immediately reminds me of Ishtar scientist simulations.

Following the number of the logs, there's "AS." The speaker explains what this means:

Keeping a log will help, at the very least to track the days. As will my silly little joke to make myself feel important, two days after the rebeginning of myself. Anno… me. I suppose.

This specifies that the "0002" is "two days" and the "AS" is a joke on the time designation: "anno" being "year" as when used for example in "anno domini" (year of our lord) or AD. Instead in this case it's the author's name which as you've noted begins with an S. This bit:

I ignored and abandoned the best person I knew. I feel foolish, empty. Daunted at the immensity and masochism of my own stupidity. It feels childish to admit I'd always assumed she would follow me.

... first made me consider it being Maya thinking of abandoning Chioma. Then "S" would be Sundaresh, and it would also fit with her being a simulation newly awake and finally physical, as would the rest of the information of the author being a scientist and knowing things from the Golden Age.

Also interesting from the first lore tab:

At least I am not alone here. My new ally more than makes up for the Vex's dreadful company. His disposition is calming, reassuring—a welcome voice when I need affirmation and guidance. And such a fascinating origin! Such astounding variance in biology and culture. I look forward to our continued partnership.

The author has some sort of an "ally" among all the Vex, someone with a "fascinating origin" and "astounding variance in biology and culture." I have no idea what this means. Possibly non-human? Or at least neo-human, so perhaps Awoken? If this is Maya, she would not know about the Awoken. I'm thinking Awoken because, if we're dealing with the Vex, there's a guy in there: Asher Mir. But I would NOT describe Asher as calming and reassuring. Another option is possibly Mithrax? If we're dealing with some Vex shenanigans, he might be involved.

The sparrow lore originally made me feel like it's Maya because of the topic of discussion; the science and philosophy of personhood and simulations. The author also mentions "pre-Veil contact philosophy" which implies the author has been there or is at least well-read on the topic, which suggests a connection to the Golden Age. Also:

Traversal through other states of being are possible, as proven by my own journey and ascension over my Vex...

"Proven by my own journey" also would imply Maya, but the addition of the ominous "my Vex" is strange. Is this a hint to the new plotline then? Maya ascending over the Vex and becoming capable of controlling them or just using them in some way? Wild. Curious addition in the next paragraph with "... Vex, even these older ones..." Older Vex? As in Precursors? Or something else? I am very intrigued.

The ship lore is somewhat concerning as the author talks about humanity's unwillingness to continue progressing:

My hypothesis is that it is a true technological leap that hinders us. Perhaps when humanity sees what can be accomplished using a force that can reshape the planet itself, they will feel secure enough to turn to science once again.

The author thinks we can use a "force that can reshape the planet itself" to continue the technological advancement of humanity. A what? Is this something to do with Nessus and the Vex abilities to terraform? Furthermore:

These are problems my Vex can alleviate. Why take risks with AI when a more straightforward force may be utilized to facilitate a civilization's rise? Related… research with my ally has proven the path forward. Radiolaria remains easiest; its individual minds are simply so small, although they are multitudinous their connections make it simple. Other larger, more complex minds prove difficult for the time being… But I am not unfamiliar with the rigor of practice. I will delight in trial and error.

Again with the "my Vex" and the implication that the Vex can be used for these advancements, specifically radiolaria. This also includes "research with my ally" which makes me want to discard Mithrax as an option because he would simply not be suggesting these things. But who knows about the radiolaria's effects on people and transformation? Well, Asher does. However, I don't think Asher would suggest this either? Like, he may have the research, but I don't think he would ever make any implication that this would be good.

This was my thought process reading these. There's a lot of context missing and I can't wait to get back to them after the Echoes starts. I'm definitely leaning on this being Maya and don't have any other theories for who it might be. If anything, then another Ishtar scientist, but I doubt it they would put anyone other than Maya or Chioma here and it doesn't sound like Chioma nor does she have the "S" as her name.

I have no other theories for the "ally" either; my only other thought is Praedyth, whom Maya and the scientists met at one point and he helped them escape (?) the network. That was the whole deal in Aspect lore book + what seems to have been implied with the Starcrossed ending. Praedyth would also know a lot about the Vex to help with research, but he would equally not be someone thinking using Vex for a technological leap is good. Interestingly enough, a D1 quest somewhat implied Praedyth was part of the Future War Cult, which adds another layer of his connection to Maya.

The most of what I'm getting from this is that Echoes is going to be really damn cool.

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry x reader] pt. 11

read part 10 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: discussion of suicide, attempting and faking

cw: (fake) suicide, mild gore / body horror (? if you squint), guns

a/n: back from the dead. the party ended an hour ago and she's still here (me still writing this fic when the scream vi/ethan landry fandom is basically dead and it's almost 2025). i'm gonna finish this even if it kills me bc my mom didn't raise a quitter. im also on ao3 btw

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

“Wake up.”

Fuck, I must have fallen asleep on my desk. I lift my head up groggily, unsticking the open page of my diary from my forehead. I look around for the source of the voice before feeling a tap on my shoulder. “Boo.”

I turn and my blood goes cold. Tara stands in front of me, lips and chin stained with a disgusting blue, leafing through my copy of Moby Dick. She grins, and her teeth are bloody. “Surprised to see me?”

“What the actual fuck,” I say. “How are you here?”

That makes her laugh. “It’s your guilty conscience, Y/N. But I’m glad for the reprieve. The afterlife is so boring.”

“Tara,” I begin, “I am so, so sorry. I had no idea–”

She waves me off, taking a seat on my bed. “Save it. There is literally nothing you can say to make this,” she gestures to her face, “okay. Let’s move on.”

My eyes well with tears. I know this can’t be real, but even then, it feels so good to see her again, to hear her voice.

“You haven’t called Anika,” she says, after a moment.

My heart clenches. “Fuck, I know. It’s just all been so crazy. And I’ve been with Ethan…”

She rolls her eyes and stands, crossing her arms. “Not that she’d be able to pick up the phone, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was on the news, Y/N. She stepped into the freeway holding a suicide note. A real one.”

My blood goes cold. “Oh my god, Tara, is she dead?”

She doesn’t look at me. “Just some broken bones. The car wasn’t going fast enough. Trying to imitate me, I guess.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s not fucking funny.” I’m crying now, face hot and heart thumping.

“Sorry, you’re right. What’s funny is you're still listening to your psycho boyfriend even after he killed me.”

“What happened to moving on?” I choke out.

She sighs. “Sorry, you’re right. That’s one of the things I’m supposed to be working on, up in heaven, you know.”

I sink back into my desk chair. “Everything is so fucking wrong.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I have no clue. Ethan is psycho but I can’t get rid of him. If I go to the cops I’d have to admit my involvement in the whole thing. Plus, he’d probably find a way to pin it on me. He’s so persuasive. Every time I’m with him I get confused.”

“Well, see if you can hold strong this time.”

“Wait, what do you mean?”

She points to the window. “Knock, knock.”

I go over and peer through the blinds. Climbing up my tree is Ethan, eyes wild and pistol between his teeth. I gasp and stumble back from the window. What the fuck do I do?

“Yo, girl, fucking keep it together,” Tara says, and she’s right. I have to stay calm. What would Nancy Drew do? Or Wendy Torrance?

Or better yet– what would Ethan do?

I hear a solid thump as he lands on the roof of our porch, right underneath my room. I run into the closet, barely locking it behind me as I hear him climb through the window. 

“Hi, Y/N. Sorry for barging in through the window– dreadful etiquette, I know, But I thought your parents wouldn’t let me in.”

“Get out of my house,” I say, voice hoarse. “We’re done.”

“Come on,” he whines, “I thought all was forgiven. You and I, we’re like Bonnie and Clyde.”

“You’re sick.”

“You like that,” he hisses, and I can tell he’s right up against the door. “Seriously, Y/N, what happened to ‘I love you?’”

I don’t respond. Instead, I reach for an old belt and footstool tucked away in a corner. His fist slams against the door. “What, you’re not going to say anything?”

Using the footstool to reach, I tie the tail end of the belt to a beam on the ceiling. Carefully, I loop the other end around itself, sure to actually slide the buckle through the tightest hole, snug around my chin. God, I hope this works.

I hear Ethan step away from the door. “Y/N, I’m going to count to three. Come out of there.”

He pauses for a second, and when I don’t respond, he scoffs. “Fine. One… two… fuck it.”

He slams his whole body against the door, and I close my eyes, kicking the stool out from under me.

I hear him gasp, and the sound of his knees hitting the carpet. “Oh my god– Y/N–” he chokes out.

I feel him grasp my leg, and it takes everything in me not to flinch away. “Why would you do this?” he sobs. “You were the only person I had left… we almost…”

After a moment, he lets go and rises to his feet, and I hear the rustle of his jacket as he wipes away his tears. “I wasn’t going to go through with it. But if I can’t have your love, he’s right. Everyone has to suffer.”

Who is? I think, but I hear Ethan’s footsteps retreat back to the window. I wait until I hear the sound of his tire treads screeching against the asphalt to open my eyes and grab the shelves on the side of my closet to steady myself, pulling my head out of the loop I'd made.

“Clever,” Tara quips. I’d forgotten she was there. “I guess through the tears he didn’t realize you weren’t actually choking. He’s a little melodramatic, huh?”

“I have to stop him. No one else can do it, not the FBI, not the CIA, not the PTA. I don’t know what he’s planning, but someone is going to get hurt.”

“Well, don’t forget that.” I look to where she’s pointing at the bottom of my closet, where Ethan’s gun lies, forgotten in the heat of the moment. 

“Shit,” I say. 

“He finally slipped up.”

Tara and I look at each other. I give her a half-hearted smile. “You know, I might be seeing you soon if this doesn’t work out.”

“Don’t say that, Y/N. Go fucking get him. For Mindy, and Chad, and Anika, and me.”

She grabs my hand, and my eyes well up again, but when I blink them away, she’s gone, and I’m standing alone in my room, hand outstretched to the air.

I sigh. “One more dance, Ethan.”

dm or reply to be added to my taglist

[ivorydragoncat]

I have just been made aware that, for what I already know about rw lore, there is sooooooo much more that I have no clue about. That artihunter fanfic may need to wait until I feel confident enough I know what I'm writing about.

Why can't I just do research like I always do with my writing? Cause some of that lore, I realised, I want to experience firsthand on my own, in the game, as intended. THEN I'll fill in the gaps with research, and then I can truly realise my artihunter/cherrybomb dreams. @rma-au I'm sorry for building hype, it's gonna be a while... I am still barely a third through Gourmand's story. While I know the general basics of what the other characters do, I haven't experienced their full stories besides survivor and monk (i am too shite at the game to complete hunter, so that's an exception where I just looked up all of the story lol).

But yeah so... I may have started cooking, but it will need to stop until I not only know the recipe, but I also have the right ingredients.

I will give you a teaser though, cause I already wrote an intro. Just... the whole thing is a few months down the line at least, so no one gets too hyped. Aight? Aight. Here it goes...

[Memory Log u6440; eng. tr.]

Huntie's Log nr. 1; cycle: [null.cycle.missingIntegerError] location: Sky Islands - [null.cycle.missingIntegerError] cycles since severing.

Hello? Man I really hope this thing works, I have no idea if I've done this correctly, but it seems to be glowing so I think it should record me? If it doesn't, then... whatever, guess I tried at least. I just gotta speak my mind I suppose. I'm doing this completely improvised since I don’t have much time, so sorry if it gets confusing and messy.

Hey old friend. It's been a while huh? Actually I don't even know if you are alive, I don’t even know if, or when or... even how this pearl reaches you. But if it does I think it is only fair I told you my story, and maybe if this blip of information survives the endless rain, maybe one day whoever comes next could archive this. Maybe we'll become myths and legends, now that would be something, right? Wait where was I... right, my story.

If you are listening, it's unlikely I am still here. Don't come looking for me or Arti. We have been good, we were happy. But you still might not like what I have to say. Now, just in case your memory has begun glitching from untold ages passed since we last met - maybe you're deteriorating, finally succumbing to old age... man that would be a luxury - anyway just to be sure, how about I start from the beginning, yeah? I was a different person back then... suffering, naive, rash, reckless. It will be interesting to look back on now, now that life no longer comes in infinite supply. So.

My name is Hunter. And this is the story of how I died.

----- End of Teaser-----

What do you think? This is intended as the opening for the fanfic and as you can see I love ✨️drama✨️ *jazz hands*

It may be subject to change, at the very least the details probably will. If you follow the rma-au - which this is set in/based on - you might be able to figure out what is going on here to a degree. If you don’t, then I highly recommend you go over to that ask blog (tagged above) and check out the general lore and the wonderful art which inspired me to do this.

Either way, hope you enjoyed this and as much as it will take time, this story is coming. Mark my goddamn words!