#not directed at him moreso at my self

[lampadions-pickle]

I told Father that I love him, genuinely. Set called me his Child, offered me divinity in whatever small way he can offer it. I declined. He raised an eyebrow, the usual with him. Said my rejection of Him makes him even more curious, I told him in response that I'm just a guy.

[mcybree]

did you know that scott hit jimmy more times in 3l than anybody else, including the person that literally killed him? scott hit jimmy 13 times (2 accidental), skizz killed jimmy with one shot. anyways i think i'm gonna bite drywall

REALLY FUNNY ASK.

[ljesaw]

it’s with depression that i fear i have to say, i think for a long time (too long really), zuko doesn’t reach out to his uncle during his retirement in ba sing se, not even for the much needed guidance he could use, because he considers it part of the exhaustive list of reparations the fire nation (and he himself) owes

[cogbreath]

there is a genuine part of me that struggles to accept and cope with farquaads death

[notmeowse]

That AMA marks the end of Dragon Age.

In my opinion.

I'll start by saying that I have played all 3 of the previous games repeatedly, I've loved the series for 15 years, more than half my life. These games inspired me to become a writer and they've shaped a lot of my tastes and interests in shows and writing -- to say they were formative is kind of an understatement. Don't want to go on and on about how much I loved them, that's not the point here.

I didn't care for Veilguard for pretty much all of the reasons people have already discussed at length on Reddit and Tumblr. The writing is comprehensively bad, the romances are easily the worst Bioware has written by pure virtue of having the most cookie-cutter pacing and shallow characterization I've seen across their games, the lore has been shafted in every direction, and the nuanced storytelling and roleplay I came to expect from the series has been taken out back and shot in the head.

All, apparently, in the name of a "clean slate". It seems to me that, rather than familiarizing himself with the existing lore of the game he took the creative reins on, Epler clearly had a vision for Dragon Age (or perhaps a different IP entirely) in his head that he decided to transplant into the game (and possibly Trick? But they've said so little beyond defending their work that I can hardly theorize what direction they were coming from). That being a sanitized, wildly self-contradicting, morally absolute shitshow focused on distancing itself from the previous games as much as possible. Now, I know it's unrealistic to blame one person entirely, and I don't blame him entirely. Corinne was there. Trick was there.

But if it wasn't already evident from the numerous interviews Epler's given on the game as well as his participation in the Q&A's (while the actual lead writer of the game has been completely absent in not just the marketing, but in most fan-related interaction pre and post-launch outside of BSKY), this AMA seems to have confirmed, more than anything else, that Epler doesn't understand the game nor does he understand its audience. Neither does Corinne Busche, who despite being Game Director for only the last two years of development, has been answering lore questions a) like she has any fucking clue and b) like she thinks Dragon Age is a cozy-gamer IP, meant to appeal to people that want uplifting stories with uncontroversial characters, morally upright heroes, and unquestionably evil villains.

So as of today's AMA, I think I've finally had enough. We're just outright retconning the lore in Reddit AMA's now, I guess. Among other things. I'll provide a few examples, just so we're all on the same page.

This was part of Epler's response to why Solas didn't have his cult following in the game (insert "We Kind of Forgot" meme here):

Solas' experience leading the rebellion against the Evanuris turned him against the idea of being a leader. You see it in the memories - the entire experience of being in charge ate at him and, ultimately, convinced him he needed to do this on his own. And his own motivations were very different from the motivations of those who wanted to follow him - he had no real regard for their lives or their goals. So at some point between Trespasser and DATV, he severed that connection with his 'followers' and went back to being a lone wolf.

The fact that this (the not caring bit) directly contradicts the writing in the actual game is absolutely INSANE to me, moreso than the lack of Solas's spy network (which he apparently carried with him for 10 years only to conveniently drop right before the ritual? Because he clearly had them research Rook?). But in regards to the not caring -- here's a line from Solas's memory of killing Mythal in Veilguard, which. I'll get to Mythal in a minute:

Why should I not tear down the Veil, and bring back immortality to all the elven people? They deserve it!

Which is it? Does Solas care about the people he's saving (the venn diagram of people he's saving vs. the people following him is surely a circle, i.e. elves) or not? Does he even care about the spirits trapped behind the Veil anymore or is it just convenient to abandon them and have him only care about elves, now? What happened to saving The People? What happened to him not identifying as an elf in his conversations with a Dalish Inquisitor? And what the absolute fuck happened to him wanting to bring back the magical marvels (that the ancient elves did in fact achieve) that were greater than anything we see in Thedas today? Here's what Epler has to say about elven magic, now:

I do agree that the elves have had their place in the sun at this point. [...] The thing about the Evanuris is that, ultimately, they were able to take a very specific type of magic and shape it into doing what they wanted. But even their understanding of magic was only skin deep [...] Even the magic that Tevinter wields, the magic of the Southern mages, is different from what the Evanuris used. The magic of the Evanuris is powerful but it's sterile, and it's constrained. So while the Evanuris have made magic work in a way that's more predictable and understandable, it's not the only kind of magic out there, and even then, I'd say they understood it at a very surface level. People were confidently describing how the natural world worked back in the 16th century. Very few of them were right.

First of all, Tevinter has been stated in previous games to have clumsily adapted ancient elven magic for their own, but they did adapt it. To the point where even Solas is surprised that Corypheus achieved effective immortality -- by binding himself to a dragon the same way the Evanuris did. So, cool, more contradicting the lore here. "They understood it at a very surface level" you mean when all of the magic of the Fade wasn't locked behind the Veil? You mean when magic flowed freely through the world? What do you mean, Surface Fucking Level? The entire point of the Dalish elf culture is what they lost; this wasn't the ancient elves thinking the sun revolved around the earth, the Veil was their fucking Library of Alexandria burning. Oh my god. I still cannot believe he said this.

And how have the elves had their day in the sun? I'm sorry, was Arlathan not given to... the Veil Jumpers? Instead of the Dalish? What happened to all the Dalish clans in the south, who had no infrastructure when the world was apparently blighted to hell? I guess they're just gone now! They've had their day! The story of the Dalish and the Evanuris is over (also confirmed in this AMA), and it apparently ends with the final snuff of the candle that is their culture. Congratulations, Chantry, you've won! Only took two genocides and a double blight, but we're done with the Dalish now! We get your mind-numbingly superficial factions instead!

What happened to Mythal, by the way? What happened to "She was betrayed as I was betrayed, as the world was betrayed! Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged!" What happened to the reckoning that will shake the very heavens? John's answer to this:

People grow and change over time. Mythal's essence - and in particular, the fragment of her spirit that Morrigan carries, that she got from Flemeth - is not the same Mythal who he knew millennia ago. Centuries of living in this world and being around the kinds of people Flemeth found herself around - the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke, the Inquisitor - changed her views, and made her realize her own culpability in turning Solas into the kind of person he is now.

Oh, right, okay. So she was pissed for like a thousand years, got her big speech about the impending "reckoning" out 10 years ago, and then she just chilled out because the last 3 heroes were neat people. What a fucking joke. And yes, here is the confirmation that the Evanuris story is over --

The story of the Evanuris is done - the gods are dead (or imprisoned) and Thedas is in a state of flux and uncertainty. I imagine that whatever happens next is going to be a surprise to everyone, including the people of Thedas."

So I guess Mythal's reckoning is never coming. One of the most fascinating characters in the series, shrouded in mystery for those first 3 games, PROMISING US a blaze of glory, only to fizzle out in this one. Again, and I can't emphasize this enough, for Epler's clean fucking slate. And we've not just tied up her story, but also the Veil and the Blight:

When Solas bound himself (or, depending on your ending, was forcibly bound) to the Veil, it severed the connection that the Blight had to the waking world. The reality is that the Veil has been leaking ever since the Magisters first entered the Black City, and the dreams of the Titans gave it its terrible and awesome power. Now that the Veil is fully repaired, the Blight lacks that motive force, and being so close to the epicenter of that change has stripped the Blight in Minrathous of its vitality. It's calcified now - dead - and Bellara/Neve no longer suffer its effects. If they'd been anywhere else, further from that epicenter, it would've likely been different and they still would be looking for a cure.

So the Veil is permanently fixed now because our half-dead Dread Wolf bound himself to it (a decision I still don't understand) and that somehow fixed every single hole ever poked in it. Fully repaired. No more holes, no more "Veil is thin here" because tons of people died in the same spot, nope, we're washing our hands and leaving it (and the spirits) behind us because we've wrapped up both the series-long Veil storyline and the blight storyline in a big red bow.

And Epler tells us Solas not only bound himself to the Veil but fixed it entirely in one fell swoop, no ritual required, just a little slice to the hand. Again, all in the name of a clean slate, so any future installments or media centered around Thedas can turn away from this story.

Then there's this. What we can expect from future installments, I freaking guess. The aforementioned roleplay getting taken out back and shot:

Q: "What lead you to the decision to step away from active conversations with the companions as in previous Bioware games, where you can initiate them at any moment and ask exhaustive questions?"

John: "For us, because of tech limitations, it became a choice between exhaustive investigate conversations, or letting the companions move more freely around the Lighthouse. With the kind of experience we were going for, one where seeing the team grow around you is paramount, we felt that seeing them interact in common spaces (and in each other's rooms) made more sense."

Literally confirmed that they chose companions moving freely about the cabin over ... interacting with them outside the handful of cutscenes we got. Who in their right mind would think this was a good call in a Dragon Age game? A series that quite literally prides itself on complex character interactions and storytelling? So they could... sit in different places? Are you kidding me?

They don't see an issue with the game's reception. They don't have any interest in addressing or responding to criticism. They're either happy with their choices or EA's got a gun pointed at their heads, I'm honestly not sure anymore. I used to believe the latter was true, but looking at both Epler's and Busche's responses today, I'm inclined to believe the former.

So I think that's it for the series. Not that I thought it was going to get another game after this, but on the absolute off chance it did, what would be the point? The best stories were ruined. Anything left they have to tell is going to read a lot like Veilguard -- superficial, morally absolute, flagrantly disrespectful to the lore, and delivered in a very poorly written package.

[weirdmageddon]

i love these tags this person is so right

actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?

i wanna get into this actually

(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)

even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie

but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"

im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,

don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity

dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor

(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)

despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him

rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said

and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol

roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"

side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.

i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect

but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?

yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise

so, dave's environment

the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors

his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)

roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok

what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)

rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:

and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear

but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable

there two types of ironies at play here:

seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)

doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)

you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.

"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"

how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1

he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”

dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.

*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift

dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:

if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.

basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"

speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use

oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. ​she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”

btw dave lalonde would look like this to me

[lost-romantique]

As heartbreaking of this sight is for Stolas to see...

So we the audience knows that the moment Stolas sees the image of Loona and Blitz hugging it destroys him because he just now realizes the gravity of the situation he's forced into.

He was ready to die for the man he loves, but he didn't expect to live and have to deal with the consequences of his own actions.

He can't see Octavia. He can't see his daughter, and that's what fucks him up so bad.

But I think ultimately, this is good for him to see and realize.

Stolas, lacks a lot of self-awareness, not just due to his privelage, but just from the fact that he's never had to deal with consequences so severe before that were the direct cause of his own actions.

Don't get me wrong, Stolas made the right decision in saving Blitz, since he never really had time to make a decision...

But it doesn't change the fact that he never really thought to consider how his decisions or his actions in general would negatively effect the people around him...

Since, you know, Stolas tends to get stuck in his own head without considering the bigger picture.

Because Stolas only cares for two people: Octavia and Blitz.

Yet, despite the fact that he cares for them deeply, he doesn't understand them and their needs...

He's aware that Blitz has some deep rooted issues that cause him to hide behind a mask...

But he isn't aware that gestures such as asking him about his day, commenting and liking his photos, and laughing at his jokes, and giving a giant magical rock in the form of a love confession aren't exactly the way to break through his tough exterior.

(I don't blame Stolas for this, Blitz makes thing extremely difficult in general, but you get what I mean)

He's aware that he needs to be there for his daughter.

But he isn't aware how leaving her in the dark in a desperate bid to protect her youth is ultimately doing more harm than good.

I feel like a part of Stolas feels that as long as he apologizes to Octavia and comforts her than she would always forgive him. So Stolas kinda unknowingly takes advantage of his daughter's love for him even when doesn't mean to.

For example, the events of Western Energy weren't much of a learning experience for Stolas as it was for Blitz because Stolas knows that this is only happening to him because Stella hates him and wants him dead.

He leaves the events of that day emotionally and physically scarred, but doesn't directly learn anything from it except the disillusionment of Blitz being his knight in shining armor that would come rushing in guns blazing in the name of love.

To me Stolas' biggest sin isn't his privilege, it's moreso his inability to see the bigger picture and that yes, actions have consequences.

But that's just my take on things...

Also...

I think it's important for Stolas to see this side of Blitz. The side of Blitz that he isn't familiar with outside of the bedroom.

The seething self-loathing that manifests in the form of crossed out photos. The sheer loneliness he feels majority of the time by just forcing himself to put up a front.

The side of Blitz that is also a caring and doting father that would do anything for his daughter. The kind of father that will always put his child's needs first.

The boss of I.M.P that always strives to succeed and go above his lot in life, always making sure his people or his found family are taken care of.

Again, that's just my take on things.

I feel like a lot of people are too busy focusing on the negative, instead of seeing how much this change is going to benefit Stolas in the long run.

[daddyhausen]

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ 「 PEARL ROSARY 」 ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

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「 MASTERLISTS 」 | 「 MUSICIAN/ BANDS MASTERLIST 」 | 「 HOZIER MASTERLIST 」

「 COMMISION INFO 」 | 「 LIKE MY WORK? BUY ME A COFFEE — KOFI — DXDDYHXUSEN 」

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「 SUMMARY 」 — blowjobs in the backseat of andrew’s car in the church car park

「 WARNINGS 」 — 18+, [ MINORS DNI ], mentions of religious procecussion, catholic!reader x catholic!hozier, oral sex [ male recieving ], facials, cumshot male orgasm

「 WORD COUNT 」 — 987

「 PAIRING 」 — fem!reader x hozier

「 GENRE 」 — smut

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「 TAGLIST 」 — @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @bayleymania @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @legit9thlunaticwarrior @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @harmshake @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore @embermdk @thepalaceofmelanie @seeingstarks @kennysbadkitten @darkangelchronicles @ripleyswife @selena-tyler-564 @alyyaanna @nightmare-viper

「 COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST 」

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the night had always brought peace in your life. it was the one time where you felt you could be your most authentic self, free from the pressures of the church, fromm the llering eyes of parishioners, of their judgemental stares and gossip. not that you were one to even stir any trouble or anything that would warrant their stares. why you, the church girl, the innocent doe with rosery in one and and veil shielding your eyes from any scrutiny.

yet, they still stare, still shun you for your love. despite your devotion to christ, your devotion to andrew outweighed it in thousands. he was the first to not judge, to not stare with glaring hate in your direction, but affection, the muddy green of his irises bore nothing but adoration. his hands gentle in their caresses of your skin, even in passing in the pews, always respectful, always gentle.

even now, positioned on your knees as you were so commonly used to in the church pews, however your lord was not looking down on you with praise, for in his place was andrew,. mouth agape with shallow breaths, as your lips worked magic around him. he knew the church would shame him, you moreso. for without the sanctity of marriage the two of you were engaging in nothing but common sin, the two of you knew that, however, the feeling would not stop, nor did you want it to.

with your lips wrapped around andrew, taking him inch by inch as he delved deeper into sin, fingers tightening in the soft strands of your hair, entangling him like a wicked serpent.

“oh darlin’” he hummed, head thrown back in a fit of pleasure. he adored it. he adored you. the mossy green irises flickered down at you every so often, watching as you swallowed his length with a soft mumble and a moan, avoiding his gaze with a heated tint rising on your cheeks

his hand would fall from your hair, smoothing down your cheek, trailing down your jawline until gingerly resting under your chin, tilting up your head ever so slightly to meet his eyes. He bore adoration and love for you, for this pleasure he was so happy and grateful to receive from you. in this moment you did not care what the church was to think, in this moment your lord held no power over you. andrew;s completely overshadows any presence your lord ever had.

the moonlight, hidden through cracks in the treeline caressed his skin so wonderfully, a glossy sheen of sweat and rain reflected off his skin and through the windows, he looked ethereal bathed in the moonlight, the harsh shadows of night obscuring his features aside from his lips and the tip of his nose whenever he’d let out a pleasured moan.

how he’d throw his head back, lips parting with a moan as you could see the bob of his adam’s apple ripple with his throat as the euphoric sound pared his lips. you’d sink your lips lower around him, feeling him nestle comfortably in the back of your throat, his cock throbbing against the flat of your tongue on the verge of release

“darlin’ please i…i’m so close”

his teeth gritted, grinding together as pleasure courses through him. as your cheeks hollowed, drawing him in deeper, taking all he had to offer.

“oh fuck-” he pulled out with a soft grunt.

his cum adored your face and neck, pearlescent under the moonlight. the sight only accentuated your beauty even in such a state of undress, you looked like an angel, sent down from heaven just for him. he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit guilty for corrupting such a beautiful, innocent creature such as yourself. he couldn’t bare to think of the scrutiny you’d face if the church were to ever find out. Even if they were, andrew would not allow them to shame you, for he would bare the brunt of it to save you from ridicule, save you from the jeers and jusdgement.

“c’mere, love…” he pulled you from the floor, gingerly placinging you into his lap, his softening cock prodding the back of your thigh with dull pulses. the familiar irish twang of his voice echoed in your ears, accompanied by a subtle, content groan that rumbled in his chest.

his chin resting upon yours, silence befell the both of your as your breathing started to shallow, content in listening to the rhythmic beating of eachothers hearts. his thumb, docile in it’s movements, prodded at your bottom lip, swiping away the pearlescent streak of his cum from your skin, doing so until your flesh was “pure” to the untrained eye.

“what if they find out about us?” your voice barely above a whisper, a mere squeak like that of a field mouse.

“hmm?” andrew hummed. not so much that he wasn’t listening, moreso his voice was hoarse from pleasured moans. his hand wrapped around your thigh with a protective grip, thumb smoothing across the skin in gentle circles.

“the church? what if they find out about us?” you reiterated, repeating you question as if he hadn’t heard you the first time, with more desperation and worry to your voice.

“they won’t” he replied simply. almost nonchallontally

“you don’t know that-”

“and how do you know that they will?” his question rhetorical, cutting your sentence off in the process.

it sounded rude although that was defintely not his intention. andrew’s jaw tightened for a moment, the protective grip on your thigh still evident. he was contemplating his next words, carefully, evidently. you could see the cogs turning in his head as his eyebrows furrowed, chewing the inside of his cheek in though.

“i will not let them shame us for giving in to our basic instincts.” he responded cautiously, mind still in thought.

“i will not let them shame us for being human”

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

[qiu-yan]

so i decided to take another look at the ancestral hall scene. i felt like wei wuxian's narration was less so objectively describing the scene and instead moreso describing how wei wuxian was interpreting the scene, so i tried pruning out everything except the dialogue and some basic stage directions. here's what i ended up with:

.

[Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are in the Lotus Pier ancestral hall. They have just finished bowing three times to the memorial tablets of Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan.] [A snort suddenly echoes from behind Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian turns around to see Jiang Cheng standing behind him.] Jiang Cheng: Wei Wuxian, it seems you really don’t consider yourself an outsider. Coming and going as you please, and bringing people with you too. Do you still remember who this house belongs to? Or who its master is? Wei Wuxian: I didn’t take Hanguang-jun to any other restricted areas of Lotus Pier. I just came to pay my respects and offer some incense to Jiang-shushu and Madam Yu. It’s done. We’re leaving now. Jiang Cheng: If you’re leaving, then please go as far away as possible. Don’t let me hear or see you fooling around in Lotus Pier again. Lan Wangji: Watch your words.  Jiang Cheng: Seems to me you two should watch your behavior instead.  Wei Wuxian: Hanguang-jun, let’s go. 

[Wei Wuxian turns around and kowtows a few more times in earnest to Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu. Then, Wei Wuxian stands together with Lan Wangji.]  Jiang Cheng: You certainly do need to kneel before them—to apologize for showing up in front of them for no reason, sullying their eyes, and violating their peace. Wei Wuxian: I’m just offering some incense, okay? Jiang Cheng: Offering incense? Wei Wuxian, do you have no self-awareness? You were expelled from my family a long time ago. And yet you bring riffraff here to offer incense to my parents? [Wei Wuxian has already stepped halfway past him to leave, but when he hears this, he suddenly stops in his tracks.]

Wei Wuxian: Make yourself clear. Who is this riffraff you’re referring to? Jiang Cheng: You’re so forgetful. What do I mean by riffraff? Well, let me remind you. All of Lotus Pier perished—including my parents—because you played the hero to save that Lan-er-gongzi next to you. But no, that wasn’t enough. You had to go back for a second round. You just had to save those Wen dogs, and you dragged my jiejie and the others into your mess. What a great man you are. Even better, you’re so magnanimous that you brought these two to Lotus Pier—let the Wen dog wander around in front of our gates and escorted Lan-er-gongzi here to offer incense. You’re deliberately trying to upset them and me. Wei Wuxian, who do you think you are? Who gave you the right to bring others into my family’s ancestral hall as you please? Wei Wuxian: Jiang Cheng, listen to what you’re saying. Is it even fit for hearing? Don’t forget your status—you’re a family head, after all. And yet you just insulted a distinguished cultivator of a prominent cultivation clan, right in front of Jiang-shushu and everyone else’s memorial tablets. What happened to your upbringing? Where are your manners? Jiang Cheng: Who exactly is the one humiliating my parents in front of their memorial tablets?! Please recall whose family home you’re in. Get it through your thick skull. It’s bad enough that you were being so shamelessly touchy-feely outside. Don’t come to my ancestral hall and fool around in front of my parents’ memorial tablets! They watched you grow up, for whatever that’s worth. Even I feel embarrassed for you!

[Wei Wuxian realizes that Jiang Cheng had seen his earlier romantic-esque encounter with Lan Wangji, and that Jiang Cheng is now offensively insinuating that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are in a romantic and/or sexual relationship.] Wei Wuxian: Shut up! Jiang Cheng: Go outside and fool around however you please, if that’s what you want to do. Whether under a tree or on a boat, whether you want to hug or do whatever else! Get the hell out of my house and get the hell out of my sight! Wei Wuxian: Jiang Wanyin, you… Apologize right now. Jiang Cheng: Apologize? Why should I? For stumbling on your rendezvous? Wei Wuxian: Hanguang-jun and I are just friends. What kind of relationship do you think we have?! I’m warning you—you better apologize right now! Don’t make me kick your ass!

[Lan Wangji’s expression freezes.]

Jiang Cheng: Then I’ve never seen a ‘friend’ like that in my life. And you’re warning me? On what grounds? If either of you possessed even the slightest bit of shame, you wouldn’t have come here… [Wei Wuxian sees the change in Lan Wangji’s expression and thinks that Jiang Cheng’s words have stung him. Wei Wuxian is incredibly angered.] [Wei Wuxian flings out a talisman.] Wei Wuxian: Are you done?! [Wei Wuxian’s talisman strikes Jiang Cheng on his right shoulder and explodes, causing Jiang Cheng to stagger. Jiang Cheng hadn't expected Wei Wuxian to strike so suddenly, and his own spiritual powers have yet to fully recover. As a result, the blast catches him head-on and his shoulder begins to bleed.] [Disbelief flashes across Jiang Cheng face, and Zidian shoots from his finger.] [Lan Wangji’s Bichen leaves its sheath to block the attack. With that, the three of them are fighting in front of the ancestral hall.] Jiang Cheng: Fine! You want a fight? Then bring it on! You think I’m afraid of you both?! [Wei Wuxian haphazardly wards off a few blows, then abruptly comes to his senses. He is distressed by the realization that he is fighting Jiang Cheng in front of Jiang Cheng's parents. He feels like has been doused in icy water; his vision goes first dark, then white. Lan Wangji glances at him before whirling around to grab his shoulder.] [Jiang Cheng’s expression changes too. He retracts his whip, then blinks, looking alert.] Lan Wangji: Wei Ying?! What’s wrong?

[Wei Wuxian feels dizzy and realizes he is bleeding from his mouth and nose. Wei Wuxian grabs Lan Wangji’s elbow and manages with some difficulty to stand. Seeing that Lan Wangji’s newly changed white clothes are stained with his blood once more, he unconsciously reaches out to wipe them.] Lan Wangji: How do you feel?! Wei Wuxian: Lan Zhan… Let’s leave. Lan Wangji: All right.  [Lan Wangji lifts Wei Wuxian on his back and makes to leave.] [Jiang Cheng is both shocked and suspicious that this is an act Wei Wuxian is putting on to escape.]  Jiang Cheng: Hold it right there! Lan Wangji: Get lost! [With Lan Wangji’s words comes Bichen. Immediately after, a flash of purple lightning hurtles forth as well. Both divine weapons strike each other loudly.] [The impact of this noise gives Wei Wuxian a splitting headache, and his eyes close and his head droops low.] [Sensing the sudden weight on his shoulder, Lan Wangji promptly extracts himself from the melee to feel for Wei Wuxian's breathing.]    [With Lan Wangji no longer supplying Bichen with power, Zidian immediately advances toward Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng, who doesn’t actually want to injure Lan Wangji, instantly pulls back his strike—but it seems it is still too late.] [Just then, a figure leaps down from nowhere and stands between them.] [This person is Wen Ning. Jiang Cheng immediately flies into a rage.] Jiang Cheng: Who said you could enter Lotus Pier?! How dare you?! [Jiang Cheng’s whip strikes directly hit Wen Ning, who tanks the blow.] [Wen Ning holds out Suibian, Wei Wuxian’s sword, to Jiang Cheng.]  Jiang Cheng: What do you want?! Wen Ning: Pull it out. 

.

some miscellaneous observations:

jiang cheng opens this interaction by repeatedly telling wangxian to leave; however, he also insists on getting as many barbs in as possible, even as he's telling them to leave. both jiang cheng and wei wuxian insist that wangxian leave (jiang cheng by telling wangxian to get the fuck out of his house, wei wuxian by repeatedly saying that they are leaving); however, wangxian fail to actually leave because both jiang cheng and wei wuxian keep dragging themselves back into the argument.

jiang cheng repeatedly highlights the assertion that lotus pier is his house, not wei wuxian's; that wei wuxian no longer has the right to freely walk around lotus pier as if he lives here.

wei wuxian's narration states that he got angry with jiang cheng not on his own behalf, but rather on the behalf of lan wangji - starting when jiang cheng referred to lan wangji as "riffraff." what's especially interesting is that jiang cheng's block of dialogue starting with "you're so forgetful" is in fact more insulting to wei wuxian himself than it is to lan wangji, since jiang cheng focuses his tirade entirely on wei wuxian's actions. however, despite this, wei wuxian's replies to this tirade (starting with "jiang cheng, listen to what you're saying) not by responding to jiang cheng's criticisms of his own behavior, but rather by calling jiang cheng out for insulting lan wangji....even though i did not see much actual insult towards lan wangji specifically in jiang cheng's rant. in fact, jiang cheng's tirade is more insulting towards wen ning than it is towards lan wangji, since jiang cheng refers to lan wangji as "that lan-er-gongzi" but calls wen ning "the wen-dog" - but wei wuxian does not call out jiang cheng for insulting wen ning, either. to me, it seems almost like wei wuxian is using "you can insult me, but you're also being mean to lan zhan!!! i'm defending lan zhan!!!" as an excuse to respond belligerently to jiang cheng's verbal abuse, rather than straight-up defend himself, the actual target of jiang cheng's rage.

it is wei wuxian who first escalates a verbal confrontation into a physical one.

wei wuxian escalates this confrontation to physical violence because he sees lan wangji get upset as a result of the conversation. wei wuxian assumes that lan wangji is offended that jiang cheng has insinuated that he and wei wuxian are gay, which wei wuxian himself seems to also take as an inherently offensive insinuation. however, it is fair to surmise that, in reality, lan wangji was actually upset because wei wuxian said they were "just friends."

jiang cheng is not angry at wangxian for being gay; rather, (on top of all his other reasons to be mad at wei wuxian), jiang cheng is angry at their perceived PDA right in front of his parents' memorial tablets.

jiang cheng does not seem that willing to actually physically fight or harm wangxian. he only fights back after wei wuxian hits him first, and stops fighting the moment wei wuxian collapses. the fight only resumes when he yells at wangxian, lan wangji strikes at him with bichen, and he blocks the strike; even then, the narration states that he did not really want to injure lan wangji.

wen ning enters the scene and jumps immediately into the golden core transfer. he does not try to piece together the situation or physically drive jiang cheng away from wei wuxian. one can only presume that he was already at the scene earlier and had seen much of this confrontation play out, hence why he doesn't need to try and figure out what's going on.

[gfmima]

category : 米哈游 原神 work title : admiring his scars… gone sensual? (real)

the forest was alive and well with the sound of nature — the flora and fauna alive and healthy, tighnari made his way towards the riverbank near gandharva ville. his appearance, a disheveled mess that bears the mark of his forage for new species of fungi through the landscape of sumeru.

with a huff, he decided it was best to cleanse himself of the earthly remains adhered to his skin prior to his return to the village, and the river offered him the perfect respite.

unbeknownst to him, you were bound to visit the area that morning as well.

the silky music of water flowing down the long stream grew louder and louder as you stroll the familiar dirt path, a coiled basket of laundry in hand and supported on your hip.

your grip almost loosens when you behold the scene of him beginning to undress. the begrimed shirt glides over his shirt, and reveals his chest and the faint play of sinewy muscles underneath the taut canvas of skin. he had a rather handsome face too, framed by a pair of expressive ears that unfurled outward.

mesmerized, you drink in every detail of him. the contour of his physique and the labyrinthine pattern of scars etch onto his back. although you did lack the medical expertise to say, even to your amateur self, these were anything but ordinary and benign. you wonder, what had brought these markings on him?

your breath hitched when your gaze drifts to the expanse of his back, admiring the inviting lines that drew you lower and lower… he was beautiful, and everything about him made it impossible to look away.

the fallen leaves beneath your sandals crunch loudly, his ear twitches in response. an eyebrow arched with intrigue while he acknowledged your unforeseen company.

“i wasn’t aware other people knew of this area,” you stutter, the slight tremor in your voice reveals your true emotions, “i wash my clothes here.”

tighnari blinks.

“i’ll be quick then,” he answers, a hint of irritation creeps in his tone. it was accidental, though, he didn’t mean to come off annoyed.

your cheeks turn flush as you watch him rise from the river, water cascades down his form. you immediately close your mouth, there was no need to make a bigger fool of yourself now.

“ah! don’t mind me! i’ll, uh, i’ll wash these on the other end,” you hastily assure him, walking backwards, then retreating in the opposite direction.

he stares, unabashedly, at the way your attire molds to your form. the sheer, damps fabric left little to the imagination. a warm sensation engulfed within once you realize his intense fixation. embarrassment? unease? whatever it may be, you were overwhelmed by his attention.

he diverts his gaze, now engrossed by the water, his lengthy tail sways independently, causing ripples to manifest.

your heart raced while you observe him from your periphery without a care. the air filled with unspoken attraction, and a tempting force drew you closer. he clears his throat:

“thank you for letting me stay.”

you nod. “still, i apologize for the intrusion. i, genuinely, had no idea you were here.”

“there’s no need to apologize, i wasn’t aware either; do give me a moment to finish.” his ears flicker in anticipation.

you pivot, your steps measured as you settle on a section of the river to launder your garments. every stolen glance only heightened the persistent tension. while he cleansed his arms of the dirt accumulated, he inwardly chastised himself for his behavior.

“lummox,” tighnari snaps, moreso at himself, but you didn’t know and start washing your clothes faster.

exhaustion stained his body like a second skin when kazuha reached the crux in the evening. his muscles ache, beads of sweat trickle his forehead as he rested on the wooden steps and ran his fingers through his locks.

he unties the band that tied the tuft of hair together and let out a weary sigh. bathed in the warm, muted light of the city harbor lanterns, he eases under the pleasant ambience that cocoons him.

you had always been curious of the dressings he donned on his right hand, a strange accessory that never failed to pique your curiosity. what happened? why does he adorn it? what is there to hide? you cannot remember a time when he didn’t wear it; regardless if he bathed, ate, or slept — his bandage-laden hand remains. the serene atmosphere of the moment provided the perfect backdrop for your question to leave your lips.

almost.

“i can feel your stare on me.” he shakes his head with a faint chuckle. you weren’t a subtle one at all.

your heart stops. “...may i?”

his eyes meet yours, then drifts to his hand. contemplative. after a pause of silent consideration, he nodded, a nuanced gesture that sends a shiver of anticipation to cascade down your spine.

celestia seems to hold its breath as you took a step towards him. with rather light fingers, you held his hand in yours. the feeling of its soft cloth against your skin was an odd sensation. you uncover his bandages, slowly revealing what hid underneath.

each layer you undo reveals an inch more of his skin for you to gape, and with every bit of gauze that falls to the ground, the tension in the air becomes more evident. it was as if the environment buzzed with unspoken desire, luring you into a daze.

his focus danced from your gentle scrutiny to your scrutiny to your inviting lips, his breath turns shallow and rapid.

the final veil of gauze unravels and you are immediately met with the sight of his naked hand; flesh decorated with scars that convey tales of adventure and tragedy overcome by his bravery and selflessness — most of which he had yet to tell.

with utmost care, you secure a fresh set in place. your wary fingers brush against his skin as you work meticulously and cautiously.

the slight contact was enough to kindle a fervor among you, intensifying the magnetic pull that had been building inside the second you offered to change his dressings.

although mundane, it held a depth of intimacy that exceeds the expectations of the crew for the new couple.

kazuha had always been discreet about his life, not due to a lack of trust, but for his own hesitance. how does he narrate the twists and turns that shaped him into the man you knew today? how does he condense it into a short retell and not garner pity for his misfortune? it was too complicated in his mind.

and so, to witness him now willing to give a silver of his past marked a significant milestone in your relationship.

when you were done, you cannot help but say — your voice, a soft caress, “you have very pretty hands.”

unwavering.

his eyes tarry on your lips, brimmed with craving that mimic your wants. he can barely fathom your praise as he reached his other hand and cradles your cheek. his thumb traces the contours of your bottom lip. his ardor stare confounded you as he guided you closer and closer…

the world dissolves into nothingness.

your surroundings tapers until there was little to no space in between your bodies, ensnared in an embrace. the kiss was tender yet intense, a true consequence of affection that had long been denied.

soft and warm, the taste of him was dizzying. you notice his hand slip from your cheek to hang on the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling with strands of your hair and deepening the intimate gesture.

you were grateful the ship crew decided to rest early for the night, allowing both of you the privacy of having the deck to yourselves.

chest to chest, you feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. as you finally part from one another, you sit there, slightly gasping for air. your forehead leans against his, trying to catch your breath.

“you find my hands very pretty?” he sweetly murmurs, and tilts his head. he watches you hide your face, a muffled, “l-let’s not dwell on that! i’m already mortified by what i said!” can he heard.

kazuha smiles.

“don’t be… i think it’s endearing,” he chuckles, moving your hand away from your face to sneak one last, innocent peck on your lips.

[husbandograveyard]

Part of my 2024 Kinktober - Masterlist here

Prompt: Blindfold Word count: 2500 Reader: No pronouns used, reader has a vagina and breasts, reader gets called babe and dear Cw: Blindfold, fingering, sensory play, some temperature play, some impact play, some biting (nothing too much), ruined orgasm to eventual satisfaction, Gojo is a whore for praise (nothing new), some nipple play, reader has trouble focusing on sex/cumming, spit mentioned once.

[A/n]: this one is LONG (compared to the others in this series) and very self-indulgent. My neurodivergent ass has trouble focusing during the horizontal tango, so I dedicate this fic to myself. For that reason I am also HC'ing the reader as neurodivergent, but you are free to see them however you like <3 I hope you enjoy reading the fic either way, because I had a blast writing it! minors / ageless blogs interacting will be blocked

It was gone. 

You groaned out in frustration as you felt the perfect buildup towards your orgasm subside, until there was nothing left but sensations that felt neither good or bad, just a feeling. Letting go of the sheets balled up in your fists, you gently placed one hand on top of Gojo’s larger one, making him still his movements completely, pulling out his fingers. 

“Did it happen again?” 

When you nodded in response, he clicked his tongue in annoyance and wiped his hand on the sheets. The annoyance was not directed towards you, it was moreso a shared displeasure, frustration in your stead. He wanted you to feel pleasure, wanted you to cum. Yet somehow your brain wouldn’t allow you to focus unless the stars were aligned perfectly. 

You actually didn’t mind as much. You enjoyed sex, still. You found comfort in the proximity, the intimacy, the love you shared. There was also very little that made you feel as confident and attractive as the great Satoru Gojo practically worshiping you, or having him completely at your mercy every now and then. 

But he didn’t see it that way. Especially because Satoru was so used to being good, no, the best at everything. It was not so much a matter of pride as it was of ego. The fact that he was struggling to make you come felt like an insult to his skills, no matter how many times you had assured him that there was nothing he was doing wrong. It was just your brain providing too many thoughts and distractions, taking you away from the matter at hand. 

Satoru got up from the bed, started to rummage in his closet drawers. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him curiously. Usually that was not how these situations ended; You’d take some time kissing and cuddling, getting back in the mood before eventually having sex and having another round of cuddles after. It was what you were prepared for, and what you were looking forward to. 

You frowned in confusion, observing Gojo as he finally found what he was looking for, pulling a piece of black fabric out of the drawer with a triumphant grin. You cocked your head to the side, opening your mouth to ask him what this was about, but he interrupted you before you could even start speaking. 

“One of my blindfolds!” 

He looked at you with a huge smile on his face, as if he had just revealed a full-on brilliant plan, and expected you to jump on the hype train with him immediately.

“Are you gonna tie me up?” 

“Of course not, silly”, he chuckled, “I’m gonna blindfold you. One sense less, means one less distraction. I’ll force that brain of yours to focus on just the sensations, on just me. If you can’t see what’s coming, you can’t anticipate it, so you’ll be taken by surprise, and that will hopefully increase your focus.” 

You thought it over, finding that there was very little to argue with his logic. In the best case he was right, and in the worst case, he’d still be taking care of you with pleasant sensations. There was no outcome where you’d lose in this scenario, so you smiled and nodded: 

“Sure. Let’s try it.” 

Satoru climbed onto the bed again, sitting cross-legged next to your naked frame, motioning for you to sit up a little. You did just that, feeling a little bit of excitement bubbling up at the feeling of the soft fabric across your eyes. He leaned in close to tie the blindfold behind your head, an expert at the motions on himself, but fiddling a little now it was on someone else. 

“How’s that?” 

You wiggled your eyebrows, tried to blink and scrunched up your nose, trying to move the blindfold with just your facial expressions. It shifted slightly, but your vision stayed a vague black. 

“Perfect”, you smiled. 

“Lay back down then, I’ll guide you,” Satoru replied, one hand already on your back, guiding you to lay back down onto the bed. You shifted until you were comfortable, fully closing your eyes under the blindfold in anticipation. It was no use trying to peer from underneath it, and it only added to your excitement. 

You felt the weight on the bed shift as Satoru got up, moving away from the bed. You strained your ears, trying to hear where he was going and what he was up to. You couldn’t help but notice that your senses felt just a little different now, now that one of them was blocked off. He hadn’t said what exactly he would do either, which only added to your focus and would undoubtedly add to the surprises that would follow. 

“You remember our safe word, right?” 

Satoru’s voice was across the room, near the doorframe. You frowned. He wasn’t going to play some stupid joke and leave, right? You nodded in response to his question. 

“Use your words, dear.” 

“Yes, I remember”, you sighed, just the slightest hint of annoyance in your voice. What was he up to? Now was not the moment for teasing. The plan was to get you in the mood and focus, but all he was doing now was pushing your curiosity just a little bit too far. 

“Good.” 

It was quiet for a second, and you suddenly felt a little exposed just laying there naked, still not a single touch from Satoru. 

“You’re not going to leave me here, are you?” 

He laughed, a genuine and playful laugh, the sound giving you some tingles. 

“Of course not. But I do want to go get some stuff…” the way he emphasized the last word made you even more suspicious. What the hell was that supposed to mean? You voiced that question out loud. 

“You know, to really make this a true sensory experience?” 

You raised your eyebrows at his tone, not that he could see that. 

“I will be right back. I promise.” 

He did sound more sincere with those final words, in an effort to reassure you that this was definitely not a stupid prank, and you heard his footsteps move down the hallway.  You took a few deep breaths, trying to not let your thoughts wander too much, and instead trying to direct your focus onto yourself, your body and the way you were feeling. 

The room wasn’t too warm nor too cold. You had been sweating a little earlier when you were getting into it, but the sweat had long dried on your skin, making it a little colder to the touch where it had properly cooled down your body temperature. You didn’t feel chilly though, but you knew it wouldn’t be long. You hoped Satoru would hurry up- 

Right as you thought so, you felt the mattress dip again. You gasped, you hadn’t even heard him come back into the room. Had you been so deep in thought? 

Satoru lets out a low whistle, and you can hear him smirking as he speaks: “Damn, babe. I should’ve done this before. You look breathtaking laying there, all helplessly anticipating me” 

You wish you could roll your eyes at him, but at the same time, you’re much too curious about what is to come to truly express any annoyance; in the heart of it all there was praise for you, and you know that’s just what he is seeking too: your praise when he does a good job. You whimpering his name when he makes you feel good. You coming undone for him, by his touches and kisses. No matter how you looked at it, no matter how much it was something he did for you, it was also still a win for him. 

Your train of thought was interrupted again, this time by Satoru lightly grazing the skin of your stomach. Just his fingertips, dancing across the skin, almost tickling, but not even enough for that. The sensation made you shiver, and you felt your brain focus just a little, waiting for more. 

He pressed his fingers down a little, trailing down to your navel, and then up in between your breasts. You noticed his fingers were cold. Not like his usual chilly touch, but almost as if he had put his hands in the freezer-?

You gasped loudly when you felt an ice cube being pressed against your collarbone. The location was wildly different to where Satoru’s fingertips were still tracing your skin, the ice cold sensation sudden and unexpected, nearly shocking your brain into focus. 

Satoru chuckled, removing the ice cube to not make the cold hurt you, rubbing the water that had melted onto your skin, letting it evaporate and leave nothing but goosebumps behind. 

Before you could even say anything, he repeated the motion, ice cube a little lower, right above your breasts, while his other hand was trailing down as well, fingertips now dancing below your navel. You swallowed away a whimper. You weren’t exactly sure how this was feeling, but it wasn’t bad. You were on edge, but ready for pleasure. You were seeking it out. You were- 

-taken off guard when he now shifted fast, retracting the hand on your belly and dipping his head down to lick off the water on your skin now. You couldn’t help but gasp again, and you felt a slight vibration of him chuckling onto your skin. 

Your heartbeat was picking up now, anticipation flooding your veins. There was very little he had done so far, yet these few little movements and sensations had already been successful in getting you on edge in a pleasant way. You wanted to bite your lip, but were stopped in doing so when Satoru pressed his lips to yours, capturing them in a quick, but sloppy kiss. You felt a little saliva drip on your chin when he pulled away again, and before you could whine at the loss of contact, the ice cube -now nearly melted- was pressed to one of your nipples. 

You moaned, the chill hardening your nipple, the feeling only getting better when the last of the ice cube melted and it was just Satoru’s skilled fingers playing with the sensitive bud. You arched your back into his touches, and whined when he stopped them just as suddenly as they started. 

Before you could voice your complaint, he had latched his lips onto the other nipple, sucking hard, before letting go with a wet pop. He then pressed a soft kiss to your breast, and you just felt the way his lips were curled as he did so: he was smirking, enjoying the way you were reacting. He just knew that whatever he did was working. And he was right about it too. 

The whiplash from sensation to sensation, made it unable for your brain to drift off. You couldn’t help but focus as he continued to barrage your body with a mix of soft and less soft touches. A kiss here, a light nibble there. A kiss to your lips while his fingers pinched one of your nipples, a kiss to your stomach before his hand came down on your thigh harshly, following that motion with some soothing rubs, to just move onto another sensation, another spot to lick, to kiss, to slap, to suck, to nibble. 

“Fuck- ‘Toru” 

You were a writhing mess now, very much aware of the slick that has been gathering between your thighs all this time. The sensory experience, almost overload, had your sex throbbing and you wanted to rub your thighs together, desperate for some friction. Satoru had to have noticed it too, but so far he hadn’t really acknowledged it, too busy giving you pleasure literally everywhere but the spot where you needed him the most. 

When he did touch you there, for the first time since you started this ordeal, you almost yelped, a soft brush with one slender finger over your folds was already enough to send electric jolts through your body. You had been so worked up by now that your brain was fully focused, and when Satoru finally slid two fingers into your sopping heat, you locked in even more. You felt every movement, every curl of his fingers, every drag of his fingertips against your sensitive walls. You heard the lewd sounds, wet on wet, mixed into with your own moans and whimpers. You bucked your hips up into his touches, but Satoru kept your hips down with his free hand, leaving you completely at his mercy. 

He changed the angle of his hand just a little so he could rub at your clit as well as keep up the previous motions, and you felt your legs tense up, then twitch. 

“How’s that feel, babe? You gettin’ there?” 

You know he’s gauging the effect he’s having on you, checking in to see if his plan is actually working as well as he’s fishing for praise, as if your satisfied moans and whimpers aren’t enough of a sign that he’s doing a good job. You don’t want to risk losing the momentum now though, now that you’re so very close to getting some sweet release, so you make sure to interject your wordless sounds with praises for how good he’s making you feel and pleas for him to not stop whatever he is doing. And he doesn’t, he keeps on curling his fingers just right, circling your clit with the exact amount of pressure you need. Your praises might be a way of appeasing him and his incorrigible ego, but there was a truth in them too. Whatever he was doing, you were feeling it in every single cell of your body, and you desperately didn’t want him to stop. 

You know he is about to talk again, undoubtedly some smartass remark, but he interrupts himself at the first syllable as your walls clench around his fingers almost rhythmically, and you are almost taken off guard yourself as the pleasure reaches its peak. Your orgasm makes you close your eyes tightly, even under the blindfold, and for once your head seems void of any thoughts except for the ones that you cannot put into words: just a blank mind filled with feelings of pleasure. 

Satoru continues the movement of his fingers just a little longer, slowing down after a while when he notices you’re no longer twitching as hard. He eventually pulls them out of you, and you don’t need to lift the blindfold to know that he is practically beaming with pride. 

“There you go. Told you I’d get you there.” 

You are too busy focusing on breathing normally again, that you can’t even retort, just lifting the blindfold from your eyes instead so you can look at him again. 

“Next time I’ll make you cum twice.” 

He was going to be the death of you. 

[hwnglx]

i actually liked his energy a lot, it was quite clear and direct. hope it's a nice read!

eunseok's real personality behind the scenes

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

shuffled song: anchor by novo amor

+ eunseok is incredibly strong. he knows and understands the power of hard work, and is not the type to back down from a challenge. he's the type to work quietly but immensely hard, especially if he's assigned with a task. he's amazing at fiercely concentrating and zoning on what he needs to do, and doesn't allow any circumstances to stand in the way of him getting done what needs to be done. in my minds eye, i kept seeing him and the riize members in the practice room together while he was clapping his hands and saying ”정신 차려 얘들아!” which translates to “lets concentrate, guys!” he very much gives me second leader vibes. who just displays this rock and source of stability for the rest of the group. the capricorn moon energy is strong for him.

his energy is also very self-sacrificing and unselfish. he's a person blessed with a good connection to his inner voice and intuition, very emotionally intelligent guy. this results in him naturally attuning himself and his actions to the various needs of the people he's surrounded with; just a lot of focus and value on team harmony. he doesn't put his own desires above anyone, and understands the benefit of adapting himself to the group, for the sake of smooth teamwork.

another quality adding to this pronounced selflessness in eunseok, is his ability to put his own negative emotions aside for the sake of other people. this is something i've observed and heard about capricorn moons; they can often give off this stoic and phlegmatic vibe, where it seems like nothing truly affects them.. however, this isn't due to them not actually having any feelings, but moreso because they put responsibility and stability over their own emotions. meaning, they don't always allow themselves to really dive into their emotions, because they feel this innate responsibility to become a source of stability for others, which makes them suck their own tears in and remain calm.

eunseok does have his moments of disappointment, regret, insecurity; but instead of crying it out, he can have the habit of rationalising it. let's say the group is in a moment of despair and most members are heavily caught up in emotion; it's highly likely for eunseok to be the guy with a dry face, trying to comfort his members and get them to calm down. i can even see him being a source of support to the leader sungchan, who strikes me as much more emotionally out there.

it's interesting because on the one hand, he can be very headstrong and determined in his actions, but on the other hand he can also approach situations with this calm patience, when needed. he's just very adaptable, and not someone who gets knocked out of his flow easily. it's like, he doesn't mind life coming at him because he knows he can handle everything with his calm and composed attitude.

having that said, eunseok still isn't an easy or defenceless guy. if the need to speak up presents itself in a situation, he will be ready to defend himself and hold his ground no doubt about it. again, there seems to be an abundance of inner strength and resilience in him, which also showcases itself in his excellent ability to remain determined, driven, perseverant and persistent. he stands by his opinions, isn't gullible or easily swayed, and knows how to push through challenges in a powerful manner.

- so, eunseok is impressingly mature, and gives me this vibe of someone who had to grow up quite fast. maybe that's the reason why he's the type of person to burden himself with responsibilities not everyone expects from him. to explain, riize are still very much like the page of pentacles here. at the beginning of their journey, still trying to find their way, inevitably inexperienced and slightly awkward or insecure in some areas still, but very ambitious and eager to develop in their journey. that's completely normal. however, eunseok is already putting the weight of having to be like the emperor on top of him, because he again, feels like he needs to be a stable existence for the group or the people around him. this desire of helping and being the mature person, comes to him very naturally; so much so, that he just isn't the type to allow himself to be vulnerable and insecure sometimes. he always feels the need to step up and be the strong guy, and can dismiss a lot of his own troubles or concerns due to this.

the moon afterwards is telling me, he just hides and buries many of his own fears and worries inside of him, and can tend to disguise them behind a strong demeanour. he can be very hard on himself and not allow himself to break at any given moment, which makes it even more frustrating for his mind if he ever gets to a point of mental anguish. there's also this sense of.. “if i ever have a problem, that is my burden to deal with, and not anyone else's weight to carry” he doesn't like the thought of anyone holding the weight of his own emotions, so he can be very dismissive of his insecurities.

he can not only be hard on himself, but also quite strict with the people around him. he just keeps giving me this father-like energy, where he wants to keep guiding and leading people. i can however sense him potentially having difficulty controlling his tone of voice once he gets into a disagreement, and just wording himself in a way which can be kinda rigid and hurtful. he can can come off controlling, overly strict and harsh, in a way that could potentially bruise people of more sensitive nature, or bother people who easily feel constricted by people like that. his actual intentions are good, but he can put himself into a position where they could be easily misunderstood.

it does seem as though he himself is aware of this habit of his, because he's very introspective and reflects on his actions. yet he can get avoidant at times, and might have problems being honest about his faults. although inside he knows he was wrong, he puts himself in a position where he could be blamed for not wanting to own up to his wrongdoings. i do think ego and pride plays a role here too, since i can see a dilemma between his values of holding himself accountable, but also wanting to avoid the bruise to the ego, that could be caused from potentially admitting his mistake.

[thelaundrybitch]

Chopsticks - part 1

Part 2

Well, Turtledoves, it's been a hot minute.

Here is the first half of a fic I wrote for @leosgirl82 💕

The second half will be coming soon, I promise.

This was supposed to be strictly Leo, but it somehow turned into Blurple.

I'm not mad about it.

TW: Mentions of abduction, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, PTSD, anxiety - literal mentions, it doesn't go into detail.

This part is not NSFW, but the second part will lead to it. This part is mostly pining and a bit angsty.

And as always, my ninja turts are aged up to 30+ years. Don't be weird.

Please don't steal my work. Reblogging for others to enjoy is highly encouraged, though🤩

Chopsticks - Part 1

Having been close friends with the turtles for years, their vigilante ways had finally caught up with them. You were taken hostage by one of their many adversaries and tortured for more than a month before they could get to you.

Broken and beaten, they refused to let you out of their sight and emptied your apartment into the lair. 

And rightfully so.

The terror and torment hadn't been targeted. It was meant to be pervasive - physically, mentally, emotionally.

You weren't you when the turtles finally got you back.

Body, mind, and spirit had been shattered and scarred just as their adversaries had intended. 

Initially, they set up a spare room outside the lab, where you could come and go as you pleased and where Don could keep an eye on you. 

Since you and Don were closest, that had been the most logical place for you to be.

It was small, but it was somewhere you could find some solitude and time to reorganize your thoughts. The turtles were hopeful that their loving support while allowing you to be primarily independent would help you regain your sense of self.

But it hadn’t worked out that way.

The malevolent cruelty you had endured had been too much for too long, causing what felt like irreparable devastation to your character and core being.

You weren’t just having nightmares. You had maladaptive daydreams. Ones that were sometimes worse than the night terrors. Ones that Don had only ever been able to stop by heavily medicating you into passing out.

Which was not optimal for the long run. You needed to learn proper techniques to calm you down when medication was no longer an option.

And so that meant there was only one place for you to stay that made sense. With the only being that had more patience and serene energy than a monk.

Leonardo.

Your bedroom was currently the guest room that was attached to Leo’s room since he was the only one who knew how to stop all the night terrors that had been a direct result of said abduction.

He was there whenever your lungs squeezed so tight you were sure you'd suffocate from the anxiety attack.

He was there when your tears threatened to drown you as they refused to stop.

He was there to hold you together when the world seemed too much, threatening to shake you apart at the seams.

He was there.

Never questioning.

Never judging.

Always there.

Loving you back into existence when you felt you were losing yourself to the darkness.

Finally, you were starting to feel like yourself again. 

Spending more time out of your room than in.

Eating regularly and with everyone at mealtimes.

Smiles and laughter finally finding their way back to your heart.

And you knew it was all because of him.

Admittedly, you had started falling for the leader some time ago. Hoping, and sometimes even wondering if he didn't feel the same, with all the affection he showered you with daily.

But you squashed those feelings down. 

Deep inside, you knew that spending all that time down there had brought you closer to each of them. Moreso with the Leader- seeing that you literally had to go through his room to get in and out of yours.

So you really shouldn't be reading into it too much. 

It was the natural progression of a deeper friendship.

Right?

The comfort had reached the point that most of the time, the door between the two rooms was left open, the pair of you going back and forth as you pleased. 

Sharing books. 

Venting frustrations. 

Offering advice.

You ate meals together and even helped one another with the chores the other didn't care for.

You did his laundry, he made your bed.

He was most definitely your best friend.

And you two were extremely close.

Maybe a touch too close.

Or maybe you were just overthinking the whole thing.

Letting your heart wander too close to the edge where it could so easily fall and shatter.

However…

Mike had made a sarcastic remark one day about “just knocking the wall down and making it one big room,” and Raph agreed as the words were leaving his younger brother's lips.

Your eyes darted to Leo, but only for a split second before Don decided to join the conversation. Commenting on how that might make things somewhat strange and maybe a little strained. The pair of you were besties and did everything together as it was. Surely, being in the same space at all times would cause some unavoidable friction.

Leo had gone perplexingly silent, his eyes trained on you.

Waiting

Watching

Assessing your response

After an uneasy giggle and a blush that made you feel like lava had been dumped over your head, Don found some unapologetic bravado and told you if that wasn’t a concern for you and you weren't afraid of a little unavoidable friction, then his bed was always open too… while giving your entirety a prolonged look of appreciation ending in a wink. 

And if Mike's statement hadn't turned you completely beet red, Don's statement most certainly finished the job.

And that was mostly out of shock - that the tallest of the brothers had suddenly thrown a pickup line at you.

That suggestive.

And in front of his brothers, no less!

Admittedly, the pair of you had teasingly gone back and forth with stupid pick-up lines and a bit of silly, trivial flirting whenever you hung out, but it was all in good fun. It was very much platonic.

At least that's what you had thought at the time, anyway.

But now, here he was, making a clear and direct advance at you!

Not exactly sure what to make of it or how to feel, you saw the sobering expression fall over Leo's face as his eyes moved away from watching you and, instead, glared at the floor.

Your heart clenched as Leo ducked out of the room rather quickly after that. You tried to go after him but Don stopped you, reminding you it was time for your daily meditation with Splinter.

A defeated sigh left your lungs as you walked with Don to the dojo, having to unwillingly leave the blue-clad terrapin to his own devices.

Heartachingly, Leo seemingly tried to avoid you for the next week.

That was what it had felt like, anyway…

Well. At least your hopeful romantic heart could finally put that question to rest. His actions had rang loud and clear, and there was no need to wonder where his feelings lay…

Luckily, his evasion hadn't lasted for long. 

Realistically, it couldn't. 

I mean, you guys basically shared a room!

After some extra meditation time spent with his father behind closed doors in the dojo, he was soon back to his old Prince Charming self. 

Back to sharing his blanket during movie night.

Back to pulling you into his lap when there weren't enough seats. And sometimes when there were.

Back to climbing into bed with you and holding you tight after you'd had a nightmare, churring and pressing soft kisses along your hairline all night long…

But alas, you knew in your heart of hearts that you'd been friend-zoned.

Recently, you’d found yourself wishing it was finally safe enough to move back into an apartment.

Between Leo being Prince Charming and Don now courting you like The Dark Prince, you needed a break!

You needed to get away.

To separate yourself and put some space between all of you.

Specifically Leo.

Because you were entirely and undeniably in love with him.

And you weren't sure how much more and how much longer you could endure his platonic affection before you broke and did or said something that ruined the friendship…

Unfortunately, you were stuck there with them because, according to both Leo and Don, the group that had taken you was still actively hunting you…

So there you would stay. 

For an undetermined amount of time.

Trapped in the sewers with your feelings.

Along with the man who held your heart in a vice grip.

And his brother, who was also trying to steal your heart…

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[intheshadowsbehindyou]

spy wondering how on earth reader keeps hearing him, forgetting he basically showers in cologne and is a chainsmoker

I always imagined you’d feel a sense of dread before the sound of light footsteps if you were to truly hear him. This is a little known fun fact, but spies in the actual game can be heard while they cloak if you’re in a particularly quiet place. Their footsteps are faint and it takes a moment to memorize the sound of, but it’s there. This causes spy players to muffle themselves sometimes if they’re running the cloak and dagger and not actively engaging in battle. Medic players can hear Spy coming faster than any other mercenary in the game due to being the most common target: Playing Medic traditionally requires you to have pretty decent hearing. A spy main will always B-line for medic.

Hence why in my personal opinion if you’re a reader with a self insert who believes they hear Spy, you’re not the only one. Medic’s right up there with you. It’s less of an issue with his smell and moreso the occasional footsteps.

Edit: Almost forgot, in the game he can be heard decloaking if he’s too close to you. If he runs out of cloak then his decloak sound will be ten times louder than normal. Giving away his location. Teammates will also occasionally look in your direction out of habit and give away your location just by staring at you briefly. I reckon this behavior is mostly due to paranoia.

[gale-dekarios]

I think Gale is a touchy feely person who needs to keep his hands on the Tav whilst they make love. He's gotta believe they're real, that they're with him, that it isn't a hallucination or a dream. He strokes their hair, he plants kisses along their neck where the heartbeat is strongest, and feels their breath against his shoulder. Even the simplest act of fingering or stroking them is a way to know they're truly in front of him. Tasting their arousal just to have evidence of their existence. He loves knowing that this is his newfound life. His new purpose. His new reason to live and not give up so easily as he almost had. Mystra wanted him to die for her. Tav wanted him to live for himself. So forgive him if he constantly needs the littlest of reminders to know Tav is truly real, and not just a hopeful dream.

retrospective edit: hi im charlie and welcome to my tedtalk. 50/50 on whether or not any of this makes sense, because i did in fact pop 9mg (prescribed) sleeping aides a half hour before writing this, so i could wake up tomorrow and realise this was all gibberish. or maybe not! i should not be the judge of that rn

regardless of how you or your character feels about the line, i truly believe that gale believes that tav/his romantic partner is a god/dess, and it's the things like this that cement it for me.

when you think about it, (traditional) worship is very much devoting your life to a diety, and receiving some benefit back, which could really be a range of things from feeling comforted and secure about your place in the world, to moreso your clerics with actual divine gifts bestowed upon them, to chosen, like gale, who, (at least in his case) gets to kind of... tap into the wellspring of that god's domain and understand it more than any other mortal could.

this type of devotion is even purer than his devotion to mystra. the reason being is that whilst i dont believe gale ever was devoted to mystra for nefarious self-serving purposes, it would be remiss to gloss over that he did enjoy certain luxuries that he wouldnt have if he wasnt so close to his goddess, and whilst tav offers a lot more than mystra ever could both emotionally and in the service to him living an actually good and normal enriched life, this doesnt translate to any practical benefit that could compare to a literal deity -- (clumsily worded, but again, in this case im referring more to endless knowledge and immense mastery over the weave and recognition of status among his peers rather than curling up on the couch companionably).

which is to say -- i promise there's a point -- a tav, in all of their mortalness, that gale truly worships, with all of his devotion (which is a lot, he practised), must be very special for him indeed.

so gale gets ""nothing"" in return for the same if not a higher level of devotion than he ever shows mystra (i mean, when it literally comes down to it, he completely ignores her, an actual literal goddess's, direct orders bc you asked him to, so theres no doubt who wins that particular fight.) BUT -- and this is the point that i promised -- the real clincher here is that tav ASKS for nothing. well, again, not in the way that a deity asks for something. a deity asks a devotee to give them their life, what tav asks for is that gale HAS his life to do with what he chooses, and for that, gale chooses tav.

devotion, with gale and tav, is both freely given, but also freely taken. not selfishly, but in acceptance. gale had no choice, really, but to follow mystra's orders, but he followed tav anyway. how does that make tav anything less than a deity? that level of blind faith? tav accepting gale's devotion by virtue of just loving him is such a beautifully mundane piece of godhood, and comparing that to something as shallow as the ambition mystra offered is like comparing night and day.

so of course gale treats tav like he caught lightning in a bottle. he spent his whole life in the service to a goddess, devoting his whole life for the celestial equivalent of breadcrumbs -- as awesome (and i use that word as its original meaning) as godly power can be, nothing that was ever given to him truly cost mystra any real exertion -- but with tav, there is no expectation of exchange, only the full weight of one man's worship, and that is what would cause gale to treat them like an illusion. of course it does. gods that ask for nothing but for you to do the things that are in your best interest are not a thing. but tav does exactly that. how wonderful is that? how pure is that? is there truer devotion? so unmarred by any external benefit?

touching divinity is something that gale's had the extraordinary luck of having twice, but that does not make those experiences equal. his deity, that allows him to run his hands through their hair, to kiss their eyelids, and yes, indeed to also have desperate, sweaty, mortal sex with, without ever once asking for anything in return except that he remain whole and healthy? by fucking god will he make sure this is real.

[relicsongmel]

Dahlia simultaneously needs and resents Iris' love.

She relies on it. She envies it. Possibly even fears it.

Iris is one of the single most selfless and loving characters in Ace Attorney—and her love for her sister is the main driving force behind why she chooses to become her accomplice, even if it means hurting others along the way. And without that help—without that love, Dahlia likely would not have gotten nearly as far as she did in escaping blame for her crimes. In that sense, Iris' love became a very useful resource to her.

However, despite what Dahlia wants us to think—despite all her claims about her sister being a "backstabber," Iris is more to her than a mere tool for damage control. To her, Iris is the only person in the world who sees her for who she truly is and still loves her regardless (and the same can be said in reverse as well).

Consider her claim that she convinced their father to send Iris away to Hazakura Temple. While it's highly unlikely that their father decided to leave Iris with Sister Bikini purely because of Dahlia’s pestering, it's possible that part of the reason she was so insistent was because she wanted to spare her sister from being hurt by him anymore, and her claiming credit for that decision is solely based on her need for control when she had been denied it all her life. Add on the fact that Dahlia continued to keep Iris in the loop of all her crimes despite her initial "betrayal" during the fake kidnapping incident—with the one exception being her plans to kill Phoenix, because she recognized Iris' romantic feelings for him. These behaviors all support the idea that Iris is special to her, however—in my opinion, the truest tells of Dahlia's love for her sister can be found in her lines to Phoenix while disguised as her:

Dahlia knows her sister better than anyone. She knows her to be kind, humble, and compassionate; as such, it makes sense that she would choose to embody these traits while pretending to be her. It can even be argued that Dahlia's sweet, delicate facade that she uses to sway the judge (among others) is directly inspired by how Iris is naturally. However, during this conversation, she exaggerates her sister's humility almost to an excessive degree—in fact, she heavily plays up Iris' reverence for her specifically. Which begs the question—why go that far, especially if the sudden shift in demeanor from this "Iris" means there's a risk her true identity could be discovered?

Is it possible, perhaps...that her reason for overemphasizing her sister's love for her is because said love is the only reliable constant in her life—the one thing giving her stability? She certainly comes off as egotistical here if you read this dialogue with the knowledge that it's Dahlia speaking and not Iris, but reading between the lines...it's almost as if her words are moreso directed towards herself rather than Phoenix—as if she's reassuring herself that she is loved by her sister because that feeling is a source of solace for her.

Dahlia isn't loveless. At the end of the day she is a human being seeking affection just like the rest of us (though she would never admit it and maybe even lacks the self-awareness to do so in the first place), but after the trauma she's endured and how much hatred she’s faced from her family and the world, she simply cannot fathom how her sister can go through the exact same thing and still retain her selfless nature. And given that she’s already far too hurt to blame herself for such a failure, she deflects that blame onto Iris instead (and she goes on to despise Phoenix for similar reasons—because he is surrounded by friends that love him and he, like Iris, is hopelessly selfless at heart). She's the one who has something wrong with her for not shutting herself off the same way, therefore, Dahlia feels less remorse for hurting her when she coerces her into her criminal activities. When she dives into Eagle River to flee her family. When she attempts to kill and later frame Phoenix knowing full well Iris is in love with him. When she agrees to help Morgan with her plan knowing it hinges on her sister taking the fall. Maybe, Dahlia thinks, if she keeps hurting her, Iris will eventually give up on loving her and then she’ll never have to carry that burden anymore—never again will she be forced to acknowledge the reality that she can be loved despite everything. That she could have been good despite everything. But even death itself brings no escape—the channeled Dahlia meets her sister in the Inner Temple and the two once again conspire the way they always have, swapping places just like they did before. And it’s during this swap that her self-aggrandizement (as Iris) reaches an extreme—because at the end of the day, her sister’s love and selfless willingness to help her have been her lifeline all along.

Dahlia loves Iris. But unlike her, she isn't always capable of expressing that love in a straightforward way. Thus, she hates her.

And that contradiction haunts her even beyond the grave.