#not directed towards anyone specially. just in general

[cervinae-canine]

i hate it when im mutuals with a mutual that is also mutuals with someone i blocked because i still see the blocked person' posts. like mf, i blocked them for a reason. why am i still seeing their shit?? i really wish tumblr changed that.

[divinegrey]

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘄𝗮𝗿 / 𝗮𝗺𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

took a slight left on the prompt i was given, but it just felt more fitting given what i know of ambessa. hope you enjoy!

prompt: Hi! How about an Ambessa x Reader where the reader is her only weakness besides her family? And, maybe, reader gets hurt in the last battle and Ambessa realizes that sometimes, winning a war is not worth all the losses it causes along the way.

words: 1337

warnings: canon typical violence

“Every war comes with a price to pay.” 

The words echo in your head as you swing your glaive in a wide arc, slicing through the bodies of the blue-suited Enforcers trying to bull-rush you onto the ground. It comes naturally you, the motion and flow of handling your polearm; six feet of handle and two feet of blade, creating a damning vortex of death around you as you cut through the defenses set up by Piltover. The stench of blood lays thick in your nostrils, metallic and complimentary to the lingering scent of magic littering across the stone battlefield. Behind you, more reinforcements rush into the gray, drawing attention off of you.

You glance up in time to notice the Hextech cannon aimed in your direction; there’s little time to think before you dive to the side, curling yourself behind a fallen stone statue as the payload strikes the spot where you once stood, arcane blue scattering out in an explosion that wipes out half of the infantry under your command. 

Despite the ache in your bones and the several gashes bleeding through your armor, you haul yourself over the statue, sprinting across the battlefield. 

Ambessa’s plan is sound— they always are, such is the nature of the Warlord. The death of Rictus, her second-in-command, sent echoes through the ranks. Through you, especially. He, more than anyone, was your brother in arms, a man you could trust to guard your back as much as you guarded his. But even with his esteemed spot by her side, he was never a recipient of special treatment. He never received Ambessa’s love and adoration like you did. 

You slide across the stone, your heel making contact with the shin of an Enforcer. The snap of bone is felt ricocheting through your boot as you come up onto your feet, driving your steel through their chest. Blood spills onto the ground and you exhale, turning face to your General. 

“Thirty percent of my men are dead. The Hextech cannon is proving to be a nuisance,” you remark, a gesture toward the sky where the cannon unloads another shot toward the infantry, bodies going flying. You hardly flinch, more of a grimace passing your face. 

“The cost we pay. Ignore the cannon, press the advantage,” Ambessa instructs. Her eyes flicker past your shoulder, visible beneath the golden mask, and you follow her wordless command, shifting your body to the side the same moment she steps forward, arm raised and magic flaring from the runes wrapped tight. A bullet bounces off the momentary shield. You spin on your heel, hurling your glaive at the would-be killer. 

They fall to the ground, red soaking blue. 

Ambessa kicks up a glaive from the ground, borrowed from another Noxian soldier fallen, and presses it into your hand. “We shall win the day. You most of all. Leave the infantry to deal with the Enforcers. You, with me. We must break through to the door!” 

“Yes, General!” You step into pace with her, charging through the fray at her side. She defends your left, you defend her right. Hours upon hours spent training against her as lent a strength fighting with her, knowing intimately how she moves just as well as she knows how you move. There’s a tenacity, an unbreakable wall forged in the bond between the two of you. 

But every wall will suffer a siege. Every wall will suffer a break. 

You see it before she does. You move before her, your hand finding purchase in her armor and swapping places. The shout that rips through your throat is not one of victory, of force or strength, but of pain, a payload from the Hextech cannon slamming into your back. Your position and the refractions of her runes protect Ambessa; the same cannot be said for you. 

You find yourself hurtling through the air, landing against the stone, metal screeching as you slide to a stop, blood smeared in your vision. You can hardly get a lungful of air down without sputtering out due to the searing agony working up your spine from the impact. The feeling in your legs is fuzzy, barely there, and you struggle to push yourself up. 

Ambessa arrives, the golden halo of Runeterra’s sun behind her head. 

“You fool, why did you—” 

“Can’t ignore the cannon, General,” you hiss out, laying your hand on her arm. Red spreads on her skin, melting into the fabric. “Not when it puts you in danger.” 

She reaches to your face, her palm gripped on your helmet and pulling it off. It’s thrown aside, her own mask removed too— for the first time in what feels like a long, long time, you see it in her eyes. Fear. 

As quick as it came, it’s gone. Ambessa stands, sliding her arms under yours to drag you behind a barricade of Noxian soldiers, shields pressing tight to protect her. 

“That is not the order I gave you,” Ambessa grits out. Her head snaps up, the urgency in her voice enough to instill the smallest worry in you. “Medic, now!” 

“I will be fine, you need to keep fighting, General, please, victory hasn’t been secured—” 

“Victory means nothing if you are not there to see it with me,” says Ambessa, a whispered tone to protect her the vulnerability in her words reserved only for you. 

You’ve known the truth for a long while— there is one weakness you bear, and that is the soft spot in your heart that cradles Ambessa Medarda with all the love you have. The same can be said for her, a tightness in her expression as a medic drops to their knees beside you, pulling the straps of your armor in order to properly assess the damage. You raise your good arm to hold her face, wiping away the tears that could very well easily pass for sweat instead. The very motion seems to stoke an anger in her, not to you, but to those who did this to you. 

“My lion,” you whisper, a forced smile on your face. “I will not fall. And neither will you. Win. For Noxus. For us.” 

Like tempered steel quenched in oil, Ambessa’s face hardens. She leans down, pressing her forehead to yours, breathing in your air as easily as you breath in hers. Never before has she so willingly displayed this much affection with you in front of her soldiers, but if any of them have anything to say about it, they’re wise enough to keep their mouths shut. You and Ambessa apart are terrifying forces of power, but together, you’re nigh unconquerable. 

“Steel your heart, my shield,” Ambessa murmurs, and you nod the slightest amount, enough for her to know you heard her. “We will see Noxus anew.” 

It’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to an I love you. 

Ambessa kisses you, her hand cradled on the back of your head. The din of war seems to cease around you, your senses and what left you have of your fading consciousness focused on Ambessa Medarda, of the woman you swore your life, your fealty, your love to. When she pulls away, you see the struggle in her eyes, her desire to ensure your safety conflicting with the pressing need to ensure victory. 

You make the choice for her, her mask in your hand outstretched to her. 

“The price we pay,” you say, watching as she takes it, a barely there moment of hesitation before she puts it back on her face. She takes her sword in hand and rises, her shadow casting over you. 

“If they do not survive,” Ambessa speaks to the medic, who pauses to listen to her orders. “You will not even get a grave.”

The medic does not deign to respond with words, rather a nod and a renewed urgency. Ambessa looks at you once more; you thump your fist weakly on your chest. 

She runs headlong back into battle, shouting a war cry for the ages. 

~~~~~ A/N: ambessa.... mommy... WHO SAID THAT

[alisonsfics]

too good to me

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

summary: after weeks of stress and being on edge, carmy blows up and yells at marcus, but carmy holds such a special place in your heart that you go to his apartment afterward to see how he’s doing

word count: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, arguing, general angst and then fluff

You all knew that something had been on Carmy’s mind. The past few weeks, he’d been more than just anxious. He was really putting his perfectionist tendencies to the extreme. It had been three weeks since officially opening The Bear.

Carmy knew that the first few weeks were crucial to a new business, especially one as volatile as a new-age restaurant. He’d been stressed, which was nothing new for him. But, it was more extreme. He had gotten into an hour-long screaming match with Richie about what specific angle the hostess stand should be pointed.

Everyone was trying to keep Carmy calm, but it had to be done carefully. If he picked up on a tone that was too sympathetic, he’d yell “I’m fine,” and storm off.

With everyone walking on eggshells around him, the tickets for the orders got a little jumbled and in a backwards order.

“Somebody better fucking fix this.” Carmy said, running his hand through his hair. You’d seen him do that move a hundred times, and it usually meant that everything was getting overwhelming. “It’s alright, Carmy. I can handle this. Just go take a quick break outside for me, please?” You asked him.

You were Carmy’s weak spot.

He’d always had a special place in his heart for you. He was wrapped around your finger. If anyone else had told him to take a break, he would have told them to fuck off.

Carmy walked around the corner, where Marcus walked up to him with a new pastry in hand. “Hey, chef. I was thinking we could add a new pastry to the menu for that special event next week?” Marcus asked. It was a perfectly innocent question, especially since Marcus didn’t have any urgent work to be done. In that moment, Marcus was just lacking in reading the room.

“Tonight’s service is a disaster, and you’re wasting your fucking time doing this?” Carmy yelled, smacking the dish out of Marcus’ hand.

That was too far. Farther than Carmy had ever pushed it.

You inserted yourself between the two men. “Marcus, you okay?” You asked him. He nodded his head, but looked down at a small cut on the back of his hand. You placed your hand on his forearm. “Go get that cut washed, and then help Sydney sort out those tickets please.” You said, remaining calm.

“Yes, chef,” Marcus said, walking towards the sink.

Carmy was frozen in place, like even he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. “You,” you started to say, turning around to face Carmy.

“I know,” he said, softly.

“Go home, Berzatto. You need to cool off.” You said, trying to be firm but also gentle. Carmy huffed and ran his hand through his hair again. “But I just…one more—” he started to say.

“Home, Carmen.” You repeated, firmer this time. You called him many things: Carmy, Carm, Bear, and the occasional pet name, but never Carmen.

He walked away, but you heard him slam his hand against the wall as he left.

Still rattled from the whole encounter, you tried to get back on your game. “Syd, you’ve got this,” you encouraged your friend, as she directed the kitchen. The rest of the service was a little bumpy as all of you were still a little distracted.

At the end of the service, you were all silently cleaning up your stations. Normally at this point in the night, you were all catching up and joking around with each other. But instead, you all were recalling the night’s events in your heads.

You lightly knocked on the door of the office, where Sugar was sitting and looking through some forms. “Hey, Nat. You mind if I head out a little early? Richie said he’d clean up my station. I was gonna go check on Carmy and see if he’s alright. I’ve been really worried about him.” You told her.

“Yeah yeah, go for it. I think he’ll want to see you. And it’ll be good for him to talk to someone, and you’re the only one he really talks to.” Sugar told you, pulling you in for a quick hug before you left. She hesitated. “Let me know how he is…I’m worried about him,” she told you, softly.

“I will, I promise.” You said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. You turned to leave the office. “Carm’s lucky to have you,” she told you as you walked away. You turned backwards as you kept walking. “The feelings mutual,” you added.

You walked up to Carmy’s apartment and knocked on the door. “Carmy, it’s me, please let me in,” you said.

You heard silence on the other side of the door. You fished your spare key out of your pocket and slid it into the lock. You turned the key slowly and let yourself into his apartment.

You walked into his dark apartment. You saw Carmy’s silhouette as he sat on the couch, staring out the window.

“I gave you that key for emergencies.” He said, coldly. You flipped on the light switch, bringing some light into the dark apartment. “I think what I saw earlier calls for a little intervention, don’t you?” You asked. Carmy sat in silence, continuing to stare out the window. You walked around to the front of the couch so you could face him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He said, still refusing to look at you. Carmy felt guilty about what he’d done. He’d never yelled at you before, and he was ashamed that you had to see him scream like that. Carmy cared more about your opinion than he did about anyone else’s.

You walked towards Carmy, only stopping inches in front of him. “When was the last time you ate?” You asked, blatantly. He leaned back against the couch, trying to add some more distance between you both. He shrugged, genuinely not knowing the answer to your question.

You dug into your work bag and pulled out a takeout box. You stopped by Carmy’s favorite burger restaurant in Chicago to grab him some food. You knew Carmy would sometimes forget to eat when he was feeling anxious. “Eat it,” you told him, handing the box over to him.

He reluctantly opened the box and started eating. You set your work bag on the ground and sat down on the chair that faced the couch.

Carmy shifted nervously in his seat as your gaze was set on him. He was unnerved that you weren’t talking about what happened at the restaurant.

Carmy could normally read you like the back of his hand, but something about your current expression was throwing him off. He couldn’t tell if you were going to scream at him or not.

“Are you here to yell at me like everybody else? I already know I screwed up. I shouldn’t have yelled at Marcus, and I shouldn’t have argued when you told me to leave.” He told you, hoping he could apologize and avoid you yelling at him.

“You know that I’m not here to yell at you. You really fucked up, but Marcus knows that you were just stressed. I’m here to make sure you’re doing okay because I’ve never seen you blow up like that” You said, finally showing your cards. Carmy frowned, looking guilty.

“God, you’re too good to me. I acted like a piece of shit today, and you’re still trying to make sure I’m okay.” He said, still amazed by the love you had for him. He was looking at you like you were his whole world.

He set down the takeout box and used his hand to call you over to him. You stood up and walked towards him, and he patted the seat next to him.

You joined him on the couch. You both were sitting so close together that you were practically in his lap. He turned his body so he could face you.

He let his hand rest on your thigh, feeling more grateful for you than he ever had. You let your fingers caress his bicep, “you deserve to be okay. I want you to be okay,” you said, softly.

You studied his face. You noticed the small bags that had formed under his eyes. You wondered when the last time he’d actually gotten a good night’s sleep was.

You softly brushed his hair out of his face. When he was stressed, Carmy liked to pull on a certain strand of hair right in the front. You knew him like the back of your hand. You noticed all of his quirks; quirks that most people never picked up on.

Carmy watched as you gently tried to soothe him. He was sure you could see the adoration in his eyes.

“I hope you know how perfect you are. You always know exactly what to say.” He said, smiling at you. He pulled your hand away from his hair and interlaced your fingers. He’d wanted to kiss the back of your hand, but couldn’t push himself to do it.

“Do you wanna talk about why you’ve been so stressed recently?” You asked. You were treading lightly, but you wanted to understand what was making him so anxious. You hated seeing him push everyone away, and you wanted to help in any way you could.

He shrugged. “It’s just the restaurant,” he said, not knowing how else to explain it.

“The restaurant is doing amazing though, Carmy. You have no need to stress about that. You’ve been doing such a great job.” You told him, sincerely.

You watched him get a little more nervous. He was looking down at his lap, avoiding meeting your gaze. You ran your thumb over the back of his hand, trying to silently reassure him.

“You can tell me anything, Carm,” you said, softly.

“You just mean so much to me,” he started to explain. You were a little confused as to where he was going with this conversation. The room was silent as Carmy gathered his thoughts.

“Everything at the restaurant has been going so well. Every time my life has ever gone well, something terrible has happened next. I feel like I’m just waiting for everything to…I don’t know, crumble? Losing the restaurant would be terrible, but losing you and the rest of the team would be devastating. You guys are my family.” He told you, his voice cracking with emotion.

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes. You quickly pulled him into you arms, giving him the tightest hug you could. He clutched onto you like he was scared you’d disappear if he let you go.

“You aren’t going to lose anybody,” you said, holding back tears just from watching how emotional Carmy was.

The soft leather scent of Carmy’s cologne occupied your thoughts as you held him close. You both stayed attached like that for a few minutes. The room was silent, but a comfortable silent.

When you both finally pulled apart, Carmy dried the tears off his cheeks. “Nothing bad is going to happen with the restaurant. We’re all family, and that doesn’t go away based on what happens with the restaurant. You will never lose me, or any of us.” You promised him.

You earned a small chuckle from Carmy when you held your pinky up to him. “You won’t lose me either,” he said, dutifully going through with your pinky promise.

You both stared into each other’s eyes, unsure what to say next. The tension in the air nearly made it hard to breathe.

“I should probably get going and let you have the rest of your evening. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said, standing up from the couch.

You had never felt so awkward around Carmy. Just the task of walking to the front door felt like a giant opportunity to embarrass yourself. Carmy also quickly jumped up from the couch, feeling equally self-conscious.

His hand lightly grazed your back as he led you back to the front door. “Thank you for coming over and talking to me. You really helped calm me down.” He said, sincerely. You smiled and nodded your head at him.

“Make sure to call me if you ever need to talk about anything. I promise that I’ll always be here to listen,” you assured him.

The tension returned.

You both chose to avoid it.

“Well, goodnight,” you both quickly said, at the same time. You rushed out the door, and Carmy closed it behind you.

The door clicked into place and seemingly broke you both out of your trance.

You both realized you had missed the perfect opportunity. The perfect opportunity to finally confess those feelings that had been weighing you down.

You lowered your head, almost shamefully, and started walking down the hallway.

Carmy leaned his head against the closed door, wondering how he could have missed it. The girl of his dreams was walking down the hallway away from his apartment, away from him.

He started to walk towards his bedroom when he suddenly thought “fuck it,” and turned around.

At the same time in the hallway, you had the same thought.

Your heart beating in your ears, you turned on your heel and headed back towards Carmy’s apartment.

Carmy started walking back towards the front door. Before he could reach the door, he watched the knob spin and the door fling open.

You were back and standing in front of him.

Realizing you both had the same idea, Carmy quickly closed the gap between the two of you. His strong tattooed hands cupped your cheeks as he finally kissed you. You kissed him back immediately, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

He moved one of his hands away from you, but just a second, so he could quickly close the front door behind you.

He pushed you against the back of the door. The back of your head bumped against the door causing you to grin against the kiss. “Oh, shit, sorry. You okay?” he asked, cupping the back of your head. You quickly nodded your head. “I’m fine, I promise.” You said, grabbing his collar and pulling him back to kiss you.

He smirked against your lips at your eagerness to not break the kiss for even a second. He held onto your waist and pinned you against the door, while you wrapped your arms around his neck and toyed with his hair.

His lips felt perfect against yours. The kiss was somehow everything you’d dreamed of but completely unexpected.

You shifted your weight against him, gently nudging him away from the door. Carmy picked up on what you were doing. You noticed his signature smirk as he guided you towards the couch.

You fell back onto the couch, pulling Carmy down on top of you. All his weight landed on you, causing you to wince. “Sorry, that more violent than it was supposed to be.” He said, sheepishly. He quickly shifted his weight, so he was holding himself above you.

You both were giggly as these little mishaps continued to happen. It suited your relationship. You both had always been able to joke with each other, especially because of your matching sense of humor. It made sense that when you both finally got together that Carmy would accidentally bump your head against the door. But it didn’t make things awkward. You both were so comfortable just giggling with each other.

“Get back here, Berzatto,” you said, connecting your lips again. He quickly obliged. While Carmy loved laughing with you, he had been waiting years to kiss you and wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbled as he kissed you. You quickly slipped his tshirt over his head and tossed it to the side.

Then, you both heard a strange muffled sound. You pulled out of the kiss and gave Carmy a concerned look. It sounded like someone was in the apartment.

Your face completely changed when you realized what it was. “Carmy, that’s your phone. You butt dialed someone,” you whispered. His eyes also grew wide. He quickly grabbed his phone out of his pocket, hoping he could hang up and not say anything.

Once his phone was in his hand, he realized it was a FaceTime call and he was now face-to-face with his sister.

“Oh, shit. Sugar?” He said, the shock clear on his face. You immediately held your hand over your mouth, trying to remain completely silent.

“Hey, uh yeah. You called me? Are you okay?” She asked, confused by the whole situation.

“Oh, I must’ve done it on accident, sorry. Listen, I’m really sorry about yelling tonight. I’m gonna come in tomorrow and apologize to everyone though.” He said, sincerely. You were finding it so hard to not giggle. He was on the phone with Sugar while lying directly on top of you, and you just had to stay silent.

“It’s okay, Carm. Everyone knows you’ve been going through a lot. Y/N was going to head over to your apartment. Did you talk to her?” Natalie asked, genuinely invested.

Carmy quickly nodded his head. “Yeah, she came by earlier and we talked. I’m doing a lot better. Yeah, she’s umm—” Carmy stalled as he tried to come up with a lie.

Natalie picked up on his hesitation immediately. “Oh shit. Is she— are you two— wait is she there now?” She asked, putting it all together. You froze, trying to anticipate Carmy’s next move.

He quickly sat up on the couch before pulling you into his lap. “Hi, Nat,” you said, smiling at the camera and bracing for her reaction. You both watched her jaw drop.

“Did my two favorite people finally confess their love for each other? Oh, you guys,” she awed, being able to read you both just from the way you both were blushing.

Carmy buried his face in your neck. He knew how long Natalie had been rooting for this to happen, and he was having a hard time controlling how red his face was.

“You’re good for him. I’m really happy for you guys,” she said to you. You smiled in return and thanked her.

“Well, I’ll let you both get back to it.” She said, winking at you both and ending the call.

“So, how long before everybody knows?” He asked you. You just laughed in response, knowing it wouldn’t be long.

“I think she’s already sent an all-caps text to Sydney and Richie, and the rest of them will know before we go into work tomorrow.” You told him, honestly.

“We could just stay here tomorrow. We don’t really need to go in, right?” He said, pressing kisses to your cheek.

“Would that be the responsible thing to do?” You teased him. He chuckled and pecked your lips. “You know I would spend every second with you, whether it was responsible or not.” He told you.

You giggled, stopping him from kissing you. “Awww we’re only fifteen minutes in and I’m already your biggest weakness? You big softie,” You continued to joke around with him.

“You’ve always been my weakness, sweetheart,” he said, quickly picking up and carrying you to his bedroom.

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[sixosix]

can i go where you go? | kaedehara kazuha

warnings 2.2k words, lots of kissing… like srsly, pure fluff, kazuha is a cutie, not a slick cutie though, friends to lovers!!

or, three times Kazuha keeps kissing you on ‘accident’.

The first time Kazuha kissed you, it was on Beidou’s ship.

You're only partially awake, your eyelids heavy, and you move with a slow, languid pace as Kazuha escorts you towards The Alcor. The wind hums as it caresses the sails, accompanied by the lively shouts and cheers of the crew on board.

“So early,” you mutter, sighing. “Too early. Sun isn’t even out yet.”

“It will be, soon,” Kazuha says, smiling at you in the same way that he always does. Tender, as comforting as the ocean pooling on your feet as you walk by the shore. “You mentioned you wanted to meet the Captain, didn’t you? Tilt your head a little.” Although he says it, his finger comes to your chin and gently directs your gaze himself.

He’s gesturing to the woman standing at the quarterdeck, her hands resting on her hips and her shoulders remarkably broad. She turns as if hearing Kazuha’s soft voice amidst the boisterous chatter. Your jaw goes slack in awe, excitement washing away the last traces of fatigue tugging your bones as everything you’ve heard about Captain Beidou from Kazuha comes rushing back.

Kazuha steadies you with a hand on the small of your back as your knees falter when climbing the ship.

“Captain Beidou!” You bow deeply, lowering your head to your waist, arms outstretched to offer her the sake and the sakura mochi you made the night before—which cost you sleep, but it is worth more than anything when you get to gift the woman who took care of your best friend when you couldn’t. “Thank you so much for letting me tag along. Please take this.”

Kazuha and Beidou glance at each other in surprise.

Kazuha starts, “You didn’t have—”

“No,” you say, firm. “This is the least I can do. Don’t try, Kazuha.”

Kazuha’s expression eases to a smile. “Alright.”

“I like this one, Kazuha,” Beidou says, ruffling your hair, and leaving stray strands on your head. She grins at you, all wide and wild. “Where’s he been hiding ya, huh, kid?”

“Somewhere in Inazuma.”

She laughs; it sounds like the roaring waves of the ocean. “Thank you. I’ll share it with my crew.” She turns, looking at you over her shoulder. You feel the hair on your arms rise to attention. “Let me know if you need anything, but Kazuha probably will see to it faster than any of us could.”

You’re not exactly sure what she means, though you can pick up on the knowing smirk she throws at your best friend.

“Men, to your posts!” she orders. Kazuha takes it as a cue to take your hand and lead you somewhere far more secluded.

No one’s watching; at least, not to your knowledge. The crew knows well enough they have their own business to attend to, and that no one should be interrupting Kaedehara Kazuha when catching up with his best friend since childhood, you.

Kazuha is a wanderer first and foremost. He does not like to be tied down to one place—he’d itch and wander off if you try to keep him at bay. However, there is one exception; one that has him visiting his homeland whenever he can, even when he is dangerously most sought after. When the wind subsides to a gentle whisper in his ears, the waves are gentle when splashing against the ship, and the crew is fast asleep, Kazuha finds himself stealing glances in the general direction of Inazuma. He knows you’re likely sleeping soundly there, expecting him.

This is what gets him to bring home whatever he may find along the way just to give them to you. If anyone asks, Kazuha would reply with a vague: “For someone special to me, in my land of birth.” Anyone would have guessed that, though, given the assortment of flowers Kazuha never fails to bring home.

You find yourself swaying back and forth along with the ship, your mouth running miles per minute as you talk to him on and on about how you’ve never been to Liyue before and your hands are shaking from excitement—or perhaps nerves, and how is Kazuha looking so calm and why is he smiling at you weirdly?

Kazuha has that fond look in the crinkle of his eyes. “Are you certain you’re not feeling sick? Lightheaded?”

Although the heavy rocking of the ship is unlike anything you’ve experienced before, you only feel the anticipation. Thrill. You’ve seen glimpses of Liyue from the letters Kazuha sends; you’re positive nothing can compare to the real deal, and that is what has you giddy, kicking your legs against the wood.

The early morning air crept beneath your clothes and left a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You shudder; Kazuha leans against you, the warmth of his body relaxing you immediately.

The world falls completely silent as you gaze at him.

“Kazuha,” you breathe out, eyes round with wonder, “thank you for taking me with you.” Kazuha goes still as you brush a stray of hair away from your face a little shyly. “It probably doesn’t mean much because you’re always traveling, and it’s probably such a hassle to be my tour guide, but I’m—mmph.”

The rest of your words are swallowed by Kazuha’s lips, and you, undoubtedly silenced by the press of his soft lips against yours. You have your eyes wide open, frozen as you watch the sunrise from the horizon over Kazuha’s shoulder, casting him an unreal golden glow.

Kazuha quickly pulls back and looks as startled as you feel. The kiss was about half a second, and it took nearly a minute for the both of you to process what had just happened.

He frowns, though it doesn’t feel directed at you. “Sorry,” he says slowly, as though he’s just been brought back up from underwater. “That was—”

“It’s fine,” you blurt, hoping the sunrise would disguise your stunned expression. “The ship—uh, it’s swaying pretty hard. You probably lost balance or something.” However, speaking it aloud sounds wrong. Kazuha just doesn’t lose balance: he’s the most seasoned samurai you’ve met in your life.

Then again, that would leave an empty room of explanation, one of which you’d rather not set foot in.

“Yes.” The sunrise has Kazuha looking a little pink. Or should it be orange? “Allow me to fetch us a bottle of water. You might get seasick.”

“Sure,” you murmur, though it’s lost to the howl of the wind as Kazuha swiftly jumps down, his Vision glowing on his back. The sensation in your stomach doesn’t seem like seasickness.

He doesn’t talk about it, so you don’t bring it up.

The second time happens in public.

The moment you set foot in Liyue Harbor, Kazuha realizes he must reach for your wrist to prevent you from straying and getting lost. You dart from one corner to the next, exploring every stall, even stray dogs and running children.

“Liyue feels so…warm.”

It could be the orange glow of their lights, painting over the region with an unbeatable shade and atmosphere, perfectly replicating what it would be like sitting across a fireplace. Or it could be Kazuha’s hand intertwined with yours.

“Hearing that relieves me,” Kazuha admits, pulling you to the side as two men pushing crates on wheels rush past. “You are often unpredictable in what you like and dislike.”

You laugh, “Were you worried that you overhyped it? You tend to be descriptive with what you write back to me—what was it? The flavorful aroma coming from street vendors, the squeals of youth whistling past, the seagulls, and the waves of the ocean audible even amidst the bustling crowds… I can see it.”

“You remember all of that?” Kazuha looks adorable when bashful.

The sun is already at its highest peak. Sweat has started to form around your hairline; Kazuha had to buy you popsicles, which you got from the Wanmin Restaurant. The popsicle is entirely blue, nearly translucent, and tastes like eating just ice, but it effectively cools you down. Kazuha doesn’t appear bothered by the heat in the slightest, going as far as to insist on carrying all the souvenirs you’ve been purchasing.

He has only one arm full, though. The other is free and linked with yours.

“You didn’t tell me one important thing, though,” you say.

Kazuha blinks once, then furrows his brows. “What is it?” He looks sincerely worried.

“You didn’t tell me you’re famous,” you tease, nudging a red-faced Kazuha with your elbow. “Oh, it’s Kaedehara, you’re back! And here I thought you were like a celebrity in Inazuma. You might just be well-loved everywhere.” Well, who could blame them? You’re no better than the people of Teyvat.

He shakes his head. “Far from it,” he insists, ever the modest guy. “I just happen to be caught up with The Crux.”

“Those ladies seem to disagree. They were trying to impress you, you know.”

Kazuha shifts uncomfortably, his face a funny shade of pink. “I did not pay close enough attention. I apologize.”

A laugh escapes you, in disbelief. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

“I did not realize you were the jealous type.”

You gawk at his words, spinning around to see that a hint of something smug playing on his lips. “That’s not—You… shut up. I’m not.”

Kazuha opens his mouth to say something stupid to fluster you probably, but you’re quicker. You retrieve a container wrapped in plastic, its surface moist from the steam within. Kazuha falls silent, his watchful gaze fixed on you as you unwrap it, his nose undoubtedly detecting a familiar and enticing aroma.

“This is…” Kazuha picks one stick up and observes it. “Mondstadt Grilled Fish.”

“Yes,” you say, grinning proudly. “One of your favorites. You sent me the recipe last year, remember? Kept practicing it for this moment.”

But Kazuha’s heavy gaze is not on the food, but on you, an unreadable emotion clouding his eyes. The tension disappears when he smiles and takes a bite. You watch him enjoy his food in peace, belatedly deciding to do the same. You know you did good but Kazuha didn’t have to look like he’s in bliss, eyes closed and everything.

“Thank you,” he says. “You keep surprising me. This was meant to be a day for you.”

“You here with me is enough to make all my days,” you say, mouth full of fish grilled to perfection. Embarrassingly enough, there are crumbs that spew out. You take another big bite, crumbs of it sticking to the sides of your mouth.

You must look a little stupid, tucked in some corner of Liyue, standing next to Kazuha and eating grilled fish silently.

Your field of vision is abruptly engulfed by Kazuha's face. You have barely time to react, your body falling still as your attention is swallowed by the red of his eyes, which are focused on your mouth. You feel warmth press against the side of your mouth, your heart leaping to your throat at the sensation.

“Sorry,” he says, not looking at all sorry. “You had crumbs on your face.” Which does not explain why he has to kiss it off, but it was at this moment that you understand. Kazuha doesn’t lose balance and doesn’t do anything by mistake.

The dam crumbles.

The third happens when the night is creeping in on your first day, in some inn you didn’t bother looking at, too caught up in the way Kazuha is grinning at you in his own Kazuha-way: all soft and sweet.

“I can’t… believe—how long?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” he murmurs, closing the door behind you. “It wasn’t a grand revelation that happened one night. It just felt as if it was the only explanation.” His eyes flicker to you, keeping your faces close enough to where your noses are touching. He’s waiting for an answer.

“I had a crush on you the moment we met,” you confess, face hot. “And then it never went away, even when you had to leave. Distance makes the heart grow fonder or whatever.”

Kazuha’s smile tips on something a little more sly. “I apologize for keeping you waiting, then.”

Years and years of longing for Kazuha, rereading each and every one of his letters, and cherishing every second of when he comes to visit—all of it’s more than worth it if it led you here, in a secluded room, sharing hushed whispers with the boy you’ve wanted all your life.

“So… what are we—”

You’re rudely interrupted by Kazuha pecking your lips.

You frown. “Hey, wait, I’m—mmph—trying to—Kazuha!”

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he tugs you to his chest as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Sorry,” he murmurs again, but he’s leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw, smiling against your skin as you shiver.

“It’s okay,” you whisper in the quiet of the night, in the steady silence occasionally broken by the beating of your hearts. “It was an accident.”

“Mm,” he hums, nodding. “An accident.”

You stare at each other for a pregnant pause.

“This one isn’t, though,” Kazuha says and dives in for a kiss that leaves you breathless, years and years of buried feelings pouring over.

this was supposed to be for kazuha’s bday but i couldn't finish it in time :(!!! belated happy birthday to the greenest flag ever <3

[kteezy997]

can i request timmy and reader being costars and they have to film a bit of a spicy scene where they’re supposed to make out and basically dry hump each other. he ends up accidentally making her cum in her flimsy panties under the skirt she‘s supposed to be wearing. he doesn’t notice at first but then he sees the signs, the way she tenses up, how her hips stutter, the more authentic moans than the ones before, the look in her eyes as he kisses along her neck like scripted and one tiny, barely audible whimper of his name. his real name. not his characters name. which surprises him but turns him on like crazy. he ends up getting hard and reader notices after she‘s down from her high. then after the scene they’re really awkward towards each other at first but they end up fucking

Perversion//t.c.

Warnings: smut obvi, degradation, little bit of praise, cursing, light spanking, smoking

There were worse things in life than having to do a sex scene with one of Hollywood’s most promising actors. Timothée Chalamet was often referred to as his generation’s Leonardo DiCaprio. But you had gotten to know him as just Timmy.

You had big crush on him, as did a lot of people that worked with him, probably. He had this way about him that made you feel seen and special. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t excited about your intimate scene with him today. It may be the only time you’d ever be so close to him. You had to remind yourself that it wasn’t real, though, and that there were cameras and crew members all around.

The director instructed you to get on the bed, lying on your back. Timmy stood nearby, shirtless with a pair of jeans on as he chatted with a producer about the scene. It was dark outside, and the night was dreamy.

The director called action and Timmy climbed on top of you, kissing you upon contact. The directions were to make out and touch each other all over, with some dry humping on his part.

It felt so good being under the weight of him. His lips were soft and gentle, but he devoured you like he was starving. Timmy nestled between your legs. The only barrier keeping him from you was your thin panties you had on underneath your skirt.

His crotch grazed against you over and over as the scene progressed. He moaned, but it was just acting. He grabbed your ass, and groped your boobs.

Your body tensed up. His actions and his sounds were consuming you. You were soaking your panties.

Timmy’s soft hair brushed your cheek as he kissed and nipped at your neck. You felt the wetness of his mouth, his warm breath, and his teeth ever so gently on your throat. He squeezed your thigh, and that was it.

Your hips stirred and you moaned, but it was real. “Oh, Timmy.” you whimpered softly, only for him to hear.

It was then that he looked at you, breaking character himself, and he realized what happened. It was real for you. He made you come without evening knowing. You moaned his name, not the name of the character he was playing.

“Cut!” called the director, “That was great guys. Let’s move on.”

You rested against the throw pillow under your head, and you steadied your breathing.

Timmy stayed still for a second, his hands rested on your hips.

You looked down and saw that he had a hard-on under his jeans.

Without saying a word, he got up and walked directly off the set.

………

Later, there was a dinner for the cast and crew. You and Timmy sat together as usual, as you had become friends since working on the movie together. But it was awkward between you now. You didn’t know what to say to him. You didn’t want to make it any weirder than it already was.

He was very quiet, and fidgety, nothing like himself. He didn’t talk to hardly anyone. Especially you. You were so disappointed, so scared that you ruined everything. Fucking hormones. Fucking feelings.

You decided to try to give him a compliment, to break the ice. “You were great today, by the way. You always do an amazing job, Timmy.”

“Oh, I can kiss? Thanks.” Timmy snarled in sarcasm. He finished eating and off he went again.

His remark left you feeling even more uncomfortable than before, and you really wanted to make things right. You took it upon yourself to go find him in his dressing room and talk this out.

You knocked on his door, “Timmy? I’m sorry about earlier, okay? Let’s talk.” you begged.

You stood there a moment and just as you were convinced that he wasn’t going to answer, the door opened.

“Hey.” you said, “Can we just pretend that what happened earlier didn’t happen?”

He shook his head, “No, y/n, we can’t.” he answered sharply.

“Fuck,” you sighed, “I’m sorry. I should have controlled myself. But I thought we were friends. I was hoping we could look passed this."

“Well, it’s hard to be friends with someone after they give you a boner, and then all you can think about is fucking their brains out.” his eyes flicked up at you.

Your eyes widened, “What?”

Suddenly, he grabbed you by the back of your neck, forcing you into the room. His mouth was on yours before he slammed the door shut. It was a strange contrast to how he was in the scene. His lips were acting fast and harsh, "Take off your clothes." he ordered, his low voice hardly resembled his natural tone.

Fuck, you wanted this. You wanted him. You'd do anything he said. He let you go so he could lock the door and you began to undress like he told you to.

Once you were down to your bra and panties, he shoved you against a table, "You're still wearing the underwear you came inside of earlier?" In one movement, he unclasped your bra and pulled it off of you.

You let out a huff as he shoved you face down on the table. You whimpered as you felt the coldness of it on your nipples. You placed your hands on the tabletop, and your cheek rested on it.

"Little slut wants to be fucked by me so bad." he grumbled, yanking your panties down.

The air was cold on your soaked pussy. You shuddered at the sensation.

"Holy shit." Timmy said under his breath, he touched your clit, letting his fingers run along your labia.

You gasped as he entered a finger into your sensitive hole, "Fuck." you muttered. You shifted on your feet, feeling so needy, and so dirty.

"You're so desperate. So pathetic." he spat. He shoved in a second finger, pumping them in and out of you. A light smacking sound hit the air between you and him. He rubbed your clit softly, achingly slowly. He did it to tease you, to edge you, you knew it.

You'd take his insults, or whatever abuse he wanted to heed against you. You wanted him so badly. You could feel his clothed boner rubbing against your ass. His fingers were removed from you, and without warning, the palm of his hand came down fiercely on your ass cheek, leaving a stinging pain on your skin.

As you cried in ecstasy, you heard his zipper come undone, and he shoved his cock into you in a matter of seconds.

"I'll fuck you like the needy little whore you are." he growled, pumping his hips into you, his waist slapping your ass loudly.

You moaned and muttered small cries of pleasure. Once his fingers met your clit, as his cock rammed you, it was just a minute before you came. Your legs grew weak, but he held you up. You had no choice but to keep yourself on your feet.

Timmy grabbed a handful of your hair, he didn't pull, but he got you to raise up some. You looked ahead of you, seeing a mirror. Oh god, you could watch him fuck you!

You saw your own reflection as well, your hair was madly disheveled, your skin flushed with color, as well as the skin of your lover. Timmy let out an exhale, and you noticed some sweat on his neck. He didn't look into the mirror; his eyes were fixed on you. He'd alternate between fucking you roughly, and then giving you shallow pumps of his cock. He gave little tugs on your hair, but not enough to really hurt. He was being playful.

He smacked your ass again. The muscles in his torso flexing and bulging as he rocked into you. You felt like you were watching porn, but it was you that he was fucking, so you felt all the effects. It was incredible.

He pulled you closer, your back against his chest now. He let go of your hair and placed his hand on your throat. He pulled you into a kiss. Soft pumps into you now, but he was hitting you deep.

"mmm." you moaned into his mouth.

Timmy slipped his tongue in, letting it roll with yours in a heated French kiss. He palmed each of your tits roughly and nibbled on your bottom lip.

He pulled away from you after a moment, his hands left you, but his cock remained in your pussy. He tapped your hips lightly with his fingers, saying, "Fuck me, y/n."

You then used the little amount of strength you had left to throw your ass back against him. You whimpered loudly as his cock railed your insides. Your butt cheeks slapped his waistline, and you heard him chuckle lowly in satisfaction. He held your hips and started to pull you to him with each of your thrusts.

"Ah fuck, so good." he praised.

You weren't sure what turned you on more: his insults or encouragement.

His fingers met your lips, and you opened them. He wet his fingertips with your spit, then slid his fingers down the front of your body to find your clit again. You couldn't keep moving, so he took over for you, ramming his cock into you as he rubbed your clit. Your body shook with overstimulation, and you came again.

Timmy pulled his cock out of you, and turned you around, and put you on the table. He jerked his cock for a few seconds before his cum busted out in several ropes.

You gasped as his creamy seed collected into tiny puddles on your abdomen. You relaxed against the flatness of the table, trying to catch your breath, coming down from your high.

Timmy muttered some curse words under his breath before leaning over you, his hand planted right next to your head. He smirked and kissed you, moaning onto your lips.

He then walked over and picked up a t-shirt from somewhere in the room and tossed it on you.

You used the shirt to clean up his mess, and you heard the flick of a lighter. You looked over to him and watched as he lit a cigarette.

He closed his eyes, leaned his head back as he inhaled. He blew out the smoke and opened his eyes, catching your gaze.

"Those are bad for you, ya know." you said as you sat up on the table. You couldn't help but smirk at him as you thought about what had just occurred in the dressing room.

"I think you're worse for me." he joked, grinning as he took another drag.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar

[gureumz]

grateful sinners

rating: explicit

member: jake

premise: growing up in a religious community (a cult?), you and your friend jake stumble upon "forbidden" media one day. of course, you know about sex but what the elders taught you was never this dirty. overcome with curiosity, you promise each other to never speak of what you're about to do to anyone.

notes: religious themes, implied cult behavior, slight (?) blasphemy, virgin!jake x virgin!reader, fem!reader, friends to lovers (?), first time, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, desperate touch-starved, jesus loving virgins tryna fuck

a/n: third of my 1k follower special! can you tell i have deep religious trauma? lmaoooo but this was rlly fun to write, if not a little tedious but i enjoyed it nonetheless! hope you do, too &lt;3

the day was as beautiful as any other.

the early morning sun peeking behind the nearby hill, the smell of wet grass, the gentle breeze blowing through your hair.

you breathe in more of the valley air, letting your eyes close for a moment. everything is so still, hours and hours before the first worship of the day when the whole commune will surely come fully alive. at this moment, you're sure you're closer to God than ever.

a whispered prayer breaks the silence.

"i do not deserve such beauty before me, God," you mumble, eyes still closed. "but you are most merciful and i, a grateful sinner."

a silence, still. nothing or no one responds to your profession of gratitude, but that is to be expected. God works silently, as the elders say.

"i'm deciding if the beauty is on the horizon in front of us or in your face, ________," a voice breaks through, shattering the tranquil veil that envelops you.

you turn and you can't help the jolt in your chest. you grin widely and jake smiles back, hands in his pockets and his pants already soaked with morning dew from the grass.

"don't say that," you warn. "my mom might hear."

jake makes a show of looking around, gazing past you at the squat houses sitting peacefully without movement.

"i don't see her," jake says with a shrug. you laugh.

"you know how she hates it when people make light of God's word. your jokes are definitely her least favorite," you remind him, stepping closer.

jake eyes you. being noticeably taller and broader, it gives him the perfect view of your face as the dawn sun hits your delicate features.

his hair is messy, partly sticking to his forehead with the other half of his raven locks hanging over his eyes. you know his father would berate him for that. children of the pastor are expected to appear presentable in front of the whole commune as a way to honor God and his divine image.

but the commune is nowhere to be seen. it's just you looking.

and jake is used to you looking.

growing up together, with his mom and yours being close friends, your mother's unwavering devotion to the commune, and her undying support to jake's father's cause as pastor, it's no surprise that the two of you have been inseparable.

despite the clear division between the men and women of the commune, you and jake always found your way to each other. sneaking in glances, waving from afar before you start mass, and even despite your own mother's prudish ways, you know she felt at ease when jake was around you.

nothing has been said, but you're sure that when both of you reach the age of matrimony, you'd be wed to each other. you have to be.

"what are you doing out here so early?" you continue with a question, resisting the urge to toy with the wisps of hair on jake's temples.

you're forbidden to touch or be touched by any man that isn't your family. the only exception to this is his father, the pastor, free to lay his healing hands upon anyone he deems in need of it.

jake parts his lips to answer but pauses, as if choosing the appropriate thing to say.

"some of my friends and i wanted to hang out by the river," jake supplies, gesturing toward the general direction of the river just beyond the hill.

"doing what?" you ask. the men are usually tasked with heavy farm work in the morning. in your mind, a leisurely stroll by the river before all that labor seemed hardly reasonable.

jake hesitates again, now toying with his bottom lip, the plump, rosy skin growing even redder with every pinch jake delivers to it.

"you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," you say, flashing jake a reassuring smile.

"i'm not lying," jake replies almost instantly, a nervous spark in his eyes. "we really were by the river. we were...looking at something."

you cock your head to the side. jake comes even closer and the hairs on your arm stand on end, the faint scent of jake's sweat and soap reaching your nose. if you reach out now, you could easily wrap both arms around him, pull him close, and never let go.

"jay's dad brings our harvest to the nearby city market, right? well, jay went with him yesterday and he nicked this...book or something from the gas station," jake rambles, fidgeting with his fingers.

your eyes widen.

"it was glossy and the pages smelled nice. we don't have those kinds of books here, don't we?" jake continues, but your ears have started ringing in alarm.

"jay stole? jake, you know he needs to confess and repent," you whisper, taken aback.

jake gives you a look and you nearly tremble at the intensity in his irises. without warning, jake lets his fingertips graze your arm, instantly pulling away right after. you flinch, cradling your arm against your chest as if you've been burned.

"it's wrong, i know, but...haven't you thought of breaking the rules, even once? some of the people here talk about all the exciting things they've seen or done before, all because they broke one small rule. do you ever stop to think that it could be...fun?" jake questions, voice low. his eyes are wide and shaking, darting to and fro as if committing your whole face to memory.

"i—," you begin, unsure of what to say. you have thought of asking, even begging your mom to let you out into the city for one day. to see all the outsiders and their strange clothes and loud music.

but you could never go through with it. your mom would tell the pastor of your sinful curiosity the minute the words would leave your mouth.

"stealing is not breaking one small rule," you protest.

jake huffs out a breath. "aren't you tired of all of this? all of this forbidden stuff?"

you shake your head, trying to wrap your head around the words coming out of jake's mouth.

"your father's the pastor, jake," you say, voice trembling. "how could you..."

"the book had these pictures," jake cuts in, voice picking up as if it excited him to recount what he saw.

"the women in the book...they were naked."

you take a step back, clamping a hand down on your mouth.

"jake, what's gotten into you?" you question, heart beating wildly.

"i just want to know about the outside world, ________," jake reasons, running a hand through his hair.

"it's not as bad as the elders make it out to be," jake continues. "i haven't burst into flames, have i?"

you merely stare, uneasy at how blatant jake is about his sinful acts.

"do you want to see? i could borrow it from jay," jake offers, voice dropping to an even quieter whisper.

you stand there, a million different thoughts running through you. in all honesty, you wanted to take a look, never having seen any naked body other than your own. but even now, knowing that she was nowhere near, you could feel your mother's burning gaze on you. disappointed, intimidating, warning you to be a good child of God or face the wrath of hell.

you know this is wrong, or so you've been told. jake is treading a dangerous path and he seems adamant on roping you along. and yet...

"yes," you answer before you could stop yourself.

"b-but wait! how are you going to show me? we have to be careful," you hurriedly add, glancing around in case anyone was near enough to hear the atrocities you and jake are talking about.

"there's a secret back room in one of the barns. i go there to rest during breaks or after work and no one else ever goes there," jake hurriedly says, crowding back into your personal space. you notice the slight shake in his hands and the way his ears redden.

"o-okay," you say with a nod. "when?"

"later tonight," jake offers.

"during supper, we can sneak out while everyone else eats," jake continues. you feel his fingers on your arm again and this time, jake lets his whole hand flatten against the sleeve of your dress, his warmth seeping down to your skin.

you gasp, but stay frozen. jake's other hand lays on your waist and you shake uncontrollably, both terrified and excited at the prospect of jake touching you.

jake pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours. he's breathing just as hard as you.

"you know, i thought about...if you would look the same as the women in the book," jake murmurs, eyes closed.

you shiver. you should be appalled, disgusted by how jake is acting now, but all you feel is a warm, bubbling feeling in your abdomen and an insatiable itch to clutch at jake's clothes.

"jake, we can't—," you begin, but the deep toll of the church bell interrupts you, signaling the start of the day.

you and jake spring apart, knowing that the whole commune would be outside in a matter of minutes, heading off to their designated duties for the day.

before you could get another word in, jake rushes forward, kissing you. you gasp, but as if on instinct, your hands grasp at his face. a second later, you thread your fingers through his hair, the strands offering little resistance as you gently tug, just as you've always dreamed of doing. but as quickly as it started, jake pulls away, pushing you back at the same time.

"tonight," jake breathes out, walking backward. "at dinner. the last barn to the left."

you nod once, pausing for a moment as you watch jake tread further away from you. you wave before sprinting toward your house.

your mother would be in the kitchen. you would be assigned with peeling the oranges. or cooking the eggs. or buttering the toast.

to you, at this moment, it didn't really matter.

all your eyes could see, all your heart could feel is jake.

---

dinner was a tense affair.

your mom questioned your uncharacteristic early start this morning, and all you could do was supply a pathetic lie about wanting to see the rose garden started by some of the older women in the commune.

she made a point to warn you to be on time for dinner. you felt an uneasiness settle in your stomach at this, thinking of all the ways your and jake's plan could go wrong.

but rushing out of the mess hall now, legs pumping as you dash through the field toward the barns, all of your worries melt away.

you remember the kiss, jake's fingers digging into your side, his smooth hair in between your fingers.

having separate dining halls for the men and women, you weren't sure when jake would be there, but you decided you had to leave as soon as you can. you feigned a stomachache to your mother, excusing yourself to the bathroom.

you knew this was yet another lame excuse, but you went the rest of the day without seeing jake. you were subjected to teach the younger ones about scripture today at the school, but all you wanted was to feel jake again. to see him. to touch him.

you slow down as you approach the barns, jogging over to the last one to the left. your breathing is heavy, beads of sweat collecting on your forehead. another shiver of excitement goes through you as you push the barn door open.

the barn is one of the unused ones, a single light turned on at the very back. you walk toward the dim bulb, the glass-encased fluorescent hanging precariously by a thin wire.

you realize quite belatedly that jake never gave any specifics on how to find the secret room. but just then, you hear a faint shuffle to your left. despite the darkness, you can make out the faint outline of a head peeking out from behind a stack of hay.

"jake," you whisper, crossing the space between you in long strides.

jake emerges from the shadows, an easy smile on his face.

"it's back here," jake ushers you behind the tower of hay, his hand easily finding yours. "hurry, before anyone sees us."

you tighten your grip on jake's hand, the same feeling of exhilaration building up within you. you watch as jake approaches the section of the wall that's hidden behind the hay, pulling open a flimsy door that's half your height, cleverly disguised as part of the wall. inside, you can barely make out the soft flickering of candlelight.

jake nudges you forward. "it's a tight squeeze but it's comfortable enough inside."

you crouch, laying your hands on the dirt floor to steady yourself. you scurry forward through the door and emerge on the other side.

the space inside the room is enough for two, tall enough for you to stand in. you straighten up, dusting yourself off. jake follows inside, shutting the door behind him.

you look around and spot a metal box in one corner next to the single candle burning. a blanket is spread out on the ground.

"here," jake says, pulling you gently towards the blanket. you sit down, perching yourself right across jake.

jake takes hold of the metal box, unlatching the lid. inside, you can see a number of trinkets and other objects.

"are those...cigarettes?" you ask in disbelief. jake chuckles, brandishing the red and white box.

"found them in dad's safe," jake replies nonchalantly. "this one, too."

jake holds up a glossy rectangle, flipping it so it faces you. you let out an audible gasp.

"a phone? but we're not allowed phones," you say, letting jake place the device on your palm.

"i know. but that's my dad's. you know how the elders are the only ones allowed phones. so, i took his." jake is grinning now, the candlelight casting sharp shadows across his handsome face.

"but, how? doesn't he notice? what's in it?" you rattle off, turning the phone over in your hands.

"i bring it back every night once i'm done exploring what's inside," jake explains. he reaches over, pressing a button on its side. a moment later, it lights up, momentarily blinding you with how close you're holding it to your face.

you stare in awe as the screen comes alive. it dims after it fully turns on, displaying in big, blocky letters the time of night.

6:51

supper would be over soon.

jake takes the phone from you, setting it down on the blanket between you two.

"we can look at that later," jake reassures. "i got the book from jay at lunch today."

you swallow as jake pulls out the book from the very bottom of the box. jake moves the candle closer and your eyes instantly go wide.

the front of the book is glossy, indeed, just like jake said it would be. but the woman pictured on it seemed too lifelike, as if she wasn't merely printed on paper. her tan skin is on full display, with nothing covering her body but a bathing suit, one you've seen outsiders wear the few times you've seen pictures of them.

the bathing suit is black, the neckline going down almost to her stomach. you see the side of her breasts peek out from the garment holding it in place, and from what you can see, her whole back seems to be bare.

your eyes drift down to her crotch, covered by a thin strip of fabric. she stands, legs apart, her hands on her waist, baring her entire naked body to the world.

the longer you stare, the hotter you feel. an ache between your legs starts to make itself known.

"there's even more inside," jake whispers, sidling up to you. he presses his shoulder against yours as he reaches over to flip the book open.

your eyes scan the text on the next page, coming across a word you don't hear or see often.

"magazine," you mumble. a memory pings in your head.

"mom told me about magazines. this is a magazine," you say in mild amazement. "she says they're full of lies and are forbidden in the commune."

"magazine," jake repeats, drawing out the word slowly. he flips through more pages, stopping at one with a woman pushing her naked chest out.

your heartbeat quickens. you trace your finger over the picture, passing over the image of her plump breast, perky with a pinkish hue around the nipple.

you recall the science classes at the school. the teacher had recited the parts of the woman's body in a flat, monotonous voice. nipple. areola. vagina. cervix. she drilled it in everyone's head that these parts are not to be said aloud outside of the classroom.

"mine doesn't look like that," you comment absentmindedly. "they're not as...round."

you look up to see jake staring intently at you. his eyes drift down to your chest and you feel a new wave of heat wash over you.

jake licks his lips as he shifts closer, and as if compelled by his own actions, you do the same, facing jake fully.

you touch the buttons on the front of your dress.

you know what you're about to say and do next is beyond sinful. but you've already crossed the line the second you laid your eyes upon the magazine. a strange desire bubbles up inside you.

"do you want to see?" you ask quietly, watching jake's expression carefully.

"can i?" jake asks back, peering into your eyes. you can smell him again, faint lavender adding to the mix of his scent. you imagine jake in the bath, naked, water and bubbles washing over his skin.

you shudder involuntarily.

"yes," you breathe out.

you start to undo your dress, hands shaking. you've never done this before. you're forbidden to. you know God watches you now with disdainful eyes, but you can hardly find it in you to care.

you undo the last button, pulling the sleeves of your dress down and off your arms. the night is chilly and you shiver as the air meets your skin.

unmarried women in the commune are advised not to wear bras as they are still considered pure and innocent and in no need of such womanly garments.

so you sit, barechested in front of jake, shaking in the cold, in anticipation, in mild fear.

jake's jaw goes slack, taking in the image in front of him. he glances back at the magazine before returning his gaze to your own breasts. you resist the urge to cross your arms.

instead, you reach over, delicate fingers wrapping around jake's wrists. you guide them up, stopping right above your waiting chest.

"here," you whisper, but your voice sounds strangely loud in the silence of the night. "touch me, jake,"

you place his hands over your mounds and you gasp at the abrupt warmth. jake chews on his lip, fingers softly kneading your skin.

"do you touch yourself like this?" jake asks, eyes still wide in amazement and curiosity. he gives a light squeeze and you whimper, covering your mouth to stop yourself from crying out.

"sometimes," you say, voice slightly muffled behind your palm. "in the bath. when no one's looking."

jake exhales, pulling his hands back momentarily. he lines his pointer finger with your nipples, flicking up experimentally. you groan, throwing your head back.

"it feels good," you breathe out. "jake, it feels good all over."

jake pinches your nipples and you yelp, falling forward against jake. he catches you, cradling you to his chest. you breathe onto his neck, a warm stickiness pooling under your skirt.

"touch me, too," jake says right in your ear. he guides your hand on his crotch and your fingers curl around something stiff.

"please," jake implores, voice high and almost whining.

you watch in fascination as jake strains against his trousers. you caress up and down, feeling him harden even more under your touch. jake squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"sit over me," jake commands, pulling you onto his lap. there's a loud roaring in your ears as something overtakes your body completely.

"keep touching me and i'll do the same," jake instructs, returning his hands to your chest. he curls his fingers into your flesh and your mouth opens in a silent scream.

you take ahold of jake through his pants, squeezing and rubbing. jake is bucking into your hand, small breaths escaping his lips.

your head is spinning, your cheeks are flushed, and a faint guilt tugs at your chest. but you've thrown all care out the window, the only thing on your mind being jake's rough fingers tugging and pinching and grabbing at your breasts.

the bubble of heat in this little room breaks when you hear the dark notes of the church bell ringing, marking the end of supper.

you gasp, pulling away from jake as he does the same. you hurriedly button up your dress, trying to calm your breathing. jake gathers the things strewn on the floor, tossing them back into his box.

you stand, smoothing down your dress and tucking your hair back behind your ear. no words are spoken as jake blows the candle out, pushing the door open to free both of you.

you scramble out of the small space, heart still pumping wildly against your chest. you feel jake's hand rest on one side of your face, urging you to look at him.

"meet me by the river early tomorrow," jake says, now holding your face with both hands.

you blink, unsure of what to say. the rush of blood is still loud in your ears and all you want is for jake to touch you again. to keep touching you.

to touch you forever.

"please," jake adds, running his thumb over your bottom lip. you quiver at the action, stilling only when you feel him press his lips against yours.

your lips part and so does his, and as if guided by something else, your tongues move into each other's mouths, licking and sucking and breathing into and from each other.

you feel dirty, sinful even. but you start to wonder why you cared so much in the first place.

"tomorrow," jake repeats, pulling away.

the bells toll even louder. you run out of the barn without a second thought, eyes dancing with excitement, lips tender, and one single button of your dress undone.

---

you toss and turn all night.

flashes of jake invade your mind, pulling you out of sleep just as you feel yourself drifting. the way he breathed against your face. the stiffness in your hand. the pleading in his voice.

you prayed, too. prayed to God for forgiveness, for mercy. but you prayed for jake, too. to feel his lips again, to have his hands on other parts of your body.

you cry, quietly and pathetically, ashamed in the face of God. ashamed because the arousal hasn't left you. it burns almost painfully and you wish and you pray and you beg for morning to come.

you glance at the clock next to your bed and see that it's half past five a.m. you ran into jake at six yesterday, so he should be at the river by now if you're to go off of that.

you quickly dress yourself, careful to keep your movements precise and quick so as to not wake anyone in your house.

you practically float down the stairs on your toes, nimbly avoiding all the loose floorboards you know would make a sound.

you steal one glance back inside your house before taking off. you walk at first, trying to calm your nerves, but you build up to a run once you pass through the fence's gate, feeling the morning air whipping at your face.

the climb up the hill, usually a strenuous effort on your end, seems like nothing on this day, your legs taking you over it in no time.

you can see the river now, and you see the faraway figure of someone hunched over, sitting on the riverbank. excitement rips through you and you're running, running faster than you've ever had.

jake hears you before he sees you, your breathing loud and labored and your boots stomping against the wet grass. he turns to see you slowing down to a jog as you approach him.

he stands, wordlessly meeting you as you sink into his arms.

you kiss and the roar of desire is back, a single flame flickering in the blue-hued, early-morning world that surrounds you.

jake pulls you towards an area behind a large tree, and you see that the same blanket from last night is laid out on the grass. without parting your lips, jake pulls you down with him on the spread-out cloth, laying you down.

"i watched things on dad's phone last night," jake admits, kissing your jaw. you squirm underneath him, his lips sending a ticklish sensation over you.

"i watched people do it," jake murmurs against your skin, lips dragging down your neck.

"i watched them make love."

you pull jake away from where he's kissing you behind your ear, a questioning look on your face.

"you can...watch people make love? on the phone?" you ask meekly, trying to understand how some people can let such a sacred act be seen by anyone other than themselves and God.

jake nods, hands smoothing up your sides. "yes. and they do it so loudly, so roughly, so vulgarly. not like how we're taught."

you stare, wide-eyed. "what?"

"they curse a lot," jake adds. "and they call on God's name so much. we're told to never do that unless in praise."

your breath hitches when you feel jake smooth his hands over your clothed chest. you feel your nipples stiffen under his touch.

"what if it felt so good to them, they needed to call on God?" you whisper. jake ponders on this for a moment, eyes scanning over your face.

"i want to feel as good as them," jake finally says. he starts to undo your dress, the same way you did last night.

"we're going to...to make love?" you ask as jake slots himself between your legs. you feel the same stiffness from last night press up against your thigh.

"please," jake responds, pulling your dress open. your nipples are taut, begging to be touched.

jake dips his head down, latching his mouth onto one of your nubs, sending your whole body spasming. you moan, a new kind of pleasure coursing through your veins. jake presses his hips onto yours, right between your legs and you nearly cry at how good the pressure feels.

you push your core against jake's own crotch, swiveling your hips around trying to find the delicious friction you felt.

"i want to, please. i want to, so bad," jake pleads against your chest.

jake bunches your skirt around your torso, exposing your lower half and the thin, white, commune-approved underwear you have.

"please," you whine, not even sure of what you're saying.

"me, too. make love to me, jake."

jake groans, sitting upright, hands already tugging at his belt. he undoes the buckle, unzipping his pants before pulling the garments down to his thighs.

you stare half in awe and half in curiosity as jake strokes himself a few times. a clear liquid spills from the tip and you feel your mouth involuntarily water.

"can i take this off?" jake asks, hooking a finger under the hem of your underwear. you nod, cringing slightly as you feel the sticky fabric pull away from your skin as jake discards of it.

"it's so wet," jake observes, reaching down to run a finger between your folds.

"ngh!" you cry out, twitching at the sudden contact. no one has ever touched you down there. you've never touched yourself down there other than to wash.

jake presses the pads of his fingers against your core, rubbing lightly. you throw your head back, thighs already shaking.

"does this feel good?" jake asks, pressing down harder. you nod again, unable to form any coherent thoughts or sentences.

"i saw that they did this," jake says before plunging a finger into your hole.

stars burst right before your eyes when you feel jake push his thick digit into you. the feeling is foreign, a weird pressure but pleasurable nonetheless.

jake pumps it in and out of you, observing your face as he does so. you open your eyes to meet his and you see jake's pupils blown wide, his whole face a light tint of pink.

"still good?" jake asks.

"yes," you gasp, your hips pushing off the ground as you try to chase more of this feeling.

"some of them...," jake begins, pausing his movements. you start to protest but your voice gets caught in your throat when you feel jake push in another finger.

"...use two."

a slight burn at the added stretch makes you wince, your hand coming down to grab jake's wrist.

"s-slowly," you supply, opening your legs wider. jake nods in understanding, moving his fingers at a gentler pace.

you mewl, feeling the drag of his knuckles against your inner walls. you're dizzy with pleasure, overwhelmed with the thought that something could feel this good.

"it keeps coming out of you," jake says in awe. "you're getting even wetter."

"it feels so good," you gasp. "jake, please."

"what should i do?" jake asks, leaning over you. you look up, jake's face right in front of yours. not knowing what else to do, you pull him down to you in a kiss.

jake moans against your lips, speeding up his movements in and out of you. you cry into the kiss, never wanting this feeling to end.

"i-i'll put it in," jake whispers into your mouth.

jake pulls his fingers out of you and you fight the instinct to whine. jake sits back on his heels, watching as you clench around nothing.

you see his gaze darken as he takes in the sight of your dripping core, his hand coming down to pump at his shaft.

"it might hurt," jake warns. "that's what they told us."

you smile weakly. "us, too."

jake grins back at you, scooting forward to line himself up with you. jake presses the tip against your hole, watching for your reaction. he slides a little more in, and you let out a squeak.

"it's much bigger than your fingers," you say, with slight panic in your voice.

"i'm here," jake says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "you'll be okay."

you feel jake push in some more and your whole body jerks in surprise. tears prickle your eyes but you focus on evening out your breathing. underneath the evident sting, a steady throb of pleasure beats down in your core.

"it feels so warm," jake gasps out. "God help me."

jake sinks all the way in, unable to contain himself, and you bite down hard on your lip, feeling jake deep in you. you're afraid to move in case it starts to hurt more.

"f-fuck," jake curses, hips pulling back before sinking all the way in again. you cover your mouth with both hands, unsure of all the feelings you're having at the moment.

"i'm sorry," jake whispers, kissing your cheek, then your nose, then both of your eyes. "i-it feels too good."

"it's okay," you reply, trying to contain the tremor in your voice. "keep going. it feels better now."

and it does. the more jake moves, the more you could relax. jake hits a spot inside you that completely overrides the nearly unbearable stretch and it takes everything in you not to double over in surprise.

"again," you say. "just like that."

jake stops for a moment before repeating the angle in which he thrusted in you.

there it is again. a jolt of electricity goes through your abdomen and you shudder in delight.

"yes!" you cry out. "m-more."

jake picks up his speed, careful to keep it the same way you like it. it's as if the gates of heaven themselves have opened, showing you a world of pleasure you've never seen or experienced before.

the stretch has dulled now, and the fullness you feel adds to the coil in your stomach, tighter and tighter with each thrust.

you wrap your legs around jake's waist, wanting him, needing him closer.

jake lays himself over you, his chest pressed to yours, his hips moving nonstop. you've started to meet his movements, chasing something you're not quite sure exactly what.

"it does feel good," you manage to say between moans. "so good."

jake pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you.

"have you ever finished before?" jake questions. your eyebrows pinch together and you shake your head. jake slows down, grinding into you shallowly.

"finished?" you repeat.

"yeah, when you pleasure yourself, you finish," jake recounts. you shake your head again.

"we're not allowed to, remember? i've never touched myself that way," you admit bashfully.

"it's okay," jake reassures, kissing you softly. "you'll feel it here."

jake lays a hand on your lower abdomen, pressing down. you inhale, fingernails digging into jake's shoulder.

"move faster," you request. "but keep pressing there."

jake looks at you in bewilderment but follows nonetheless. he picks up his pace again, still keeping his hand on your stomach. you feel a pressure build up where jake is pressing and you feel your whole body shake.

"you're getting tighter," jake says through gritted teeth, trying to maintain his movements.

"s-sorry, feels too good," you apologize.

"i think i feel it," you add. "keep going, please."

this sends jake into a frenzy, hips snapping at a speed you can't keep up with. you let out a sob as you feel your entire being ignite with every push of jake's shaft in you.

"i can feel myself," jake points out. "i can feel myself through your belly, God."

the words confuse you but you look down to see jake protruding through your lower abdomen with every thrust. the sight sends your brain into overdrive and you moan your loudest as a white-hot current rips through you.

you vaguely hear jake groan as he roughly grabs your hips, keeping you in place. he pumps in and out of you a few more times before stopping. you continue to swivel your hips, squirming at the strange sensation that's taking over your body.

eventually, you relax, feeling strangely peaceful. you feel lightheaded but in the best way, as if you're floating on clouds.

jake grunts, pulling himself out of you. the sensation makes you cringe and you feel something drip out between your legs.

"is that—is that your seed?" you ask in mild disbelief, though still too out of it to care much.

"yeah," jake says, nodding, collecting the drops of himself that spilled out before poking his finger back in you.

"jake!" you protest, still much too sesitive.

jake pulls his finger out and grins at you. he settles beside you, pulling you onto his chest.

---

the church bell tolls not long after.

the early morning sun rises above the tree line, and if you were to stand on the other side of the hill, you would have watched the orange glow with amazement and bated breath.

there's a breeze that blows through your messy hair and the smell of morning dew on the grass is mixed with jake's lavender soap.

breathing in the valley air, another prayer falls quietly from your lips.

"we do not deserve your forgiveness," you say . "but you are most merciful and we, are merely grateful sinners."

[nymphia-tarot]

Who is your future spouse?

pile 1 ----> pile 2

pile 3 ----> pile 4

hello!! this reading will be all about your fs and your future relationship. this might contain slight nsfw in some of the piles! i keep my readings completely gender-neutral! meditate on the pics and choose whichever one calls to you. if you feel drawn to more than one pile you might have messages in them for you! if you don't feel particularly drawn to anyone, this reading might not be for you perhaps. since this is a general reading, take what resonates! 🩷

🐇 ‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹ 🐇

1. Pile 1

Wow pile 1, right off the bat I'm getting that your future spouse is someone who is very abundant-- both in terms of material wealth and emotionally. They're someone who likes to give and may do a lot of charity work too. They might be used to being a provider for their family, or being like the role model. They have a lot of expectations on them and they're the kind who's used to supporting others and they're proud of it. They have a lot to give and they know it themselves. They have a very magnetic presence, very charming, and they have this ability to make people feel like they're special. They're also very passionate when it comes to you! I'm getting Leo and/or Pisces vibes. I'm also getting like, your FS is very good-looking (getting brown or darker shades of colour for hair) and they might have a lot of suitors after them or they might be really experienced when it comes to romance.

They have a lot of passionate feelings towards you 😳 I feel like they're the one who takes the lead in this relationship (mostly in the bedroom). You're like a wish-fulfillment to your FS or vice versa. I feel like you guys will meet at a time where one of you guys is going through a hard time, where it feels like there's no way out and the other is going to be a gentle guiding light. This pile also has a bit of sexual energy but that's probably because your FS is just... really full of feelings lol. Also getting they might have a slight jealous/competitive streak where they want to be the best you've ever had. Not getting anything toxic though so dw! They really love pleasing you though and their love language might be acts of service/gift giving + physical touch. They might be the one to take the initiative when it comes to wooing you and might try a lot to impress you. They like buying you nice stuff a lot and would probably spend a lot on you. I'm getting they just really like pampering people they love.

2. Pile 2

Pile 2's FS feels like someone with a lot of emotional baggage, or like their past is haunting them in a way (maybe a bad past breakup?). Still, they're someone who's more on the logical side and it feels as if they might try to rationalize their feelings a lot. They also come across as an introvert or others view them as a bit detached or loners. They might be an air sign (Aquarius or Libra?) or have air placements even if it's not their sun sign. They feel very sharp, intellectual and cuts through bullshit easily. Very to the point, direct and blunt as well. Their sharp tongue might get them in a bit of trouble in social settings. They might have a super intense-looking face/vibes or like, high cheekbones. I'm getting tall too, or even if not really tall they have "tall vibes" in the sense that they might come across as a bit intense-- just something about them feels very imposing and authoritative. I'm also getting they might be from a foreign country, different state or just a different culture from you guys. Traveling is def involved somehow.

You two might meet at the workplace or at some formal setting. I'm getting this is someone who's into more traditional conventions and relationships and they might even be super loyal and committed. I'm getting earth Venus sign. They might not be overtly romantic because they're bad at expressing themselves since they keep such a tight hold on their feelings. However, I'm getting they might be very reliable during times of need, like a strong guiding force that pushes you onto the right path. They're very mentally strong people as they might have had to deal with a lot of hardships in life. They have a lot of love for you though, and when you get into a relationship, they might want to solidify it through marriage. They're the type who believes in practicality and actions, so marriage might be a way for them to really be sure of your love. Honestly, this relationship might not be the most smooth-sailing but there will be a lot of valuable life lessons involved. I feel like you guys will come out more mature and wise from this. This def feels like a karmic/fated connection in a way.

3. Pile 3

Pile 3 your FS feels like someone who is on the more materialistic side of life. They might be a party animal and they seem super free-spirited and independent. They might have a lot of wealth but they're also kinda possessive over their belongings. They're actually quite emotional and intense too. They're very strong-willed, like hardships and what society thinks rarely phases them. Very unconventional people overall. They might be the type who doesn't like being chained by norms and expectations. I'm getting for some of you, they might be a sex worker too. And for some, they might just have a really successful business which got them a lot of wealth. They might have a tendency to overspend though so there's warnings regarding finances. Overall, they come across as a bit hedonistic and maybe even a bit immature at times.

I feel like you two really balance each other out in this relationship. You guys might even be a bit opposite of each other. For looks, they might have somewhat soft features or look really gentle and elegant. I'm getting that for some of you, your FS might've been in an abusive situation before you guys got together or they might've been the victim of some sort of exploitation. They might also have a very soothing voice. I feel like a big theme or overall lesson in this connection is regarding balance and harmony, and letting go of what doesn't serve you anymore. Your FS will go through or has gone through a major change in life which will make them grow stronger and more abundant (I'm getting cutting ties with a male authority figure?). I'm also getting that they're someone who will sacrifice a lot for the sake of you guys' relationship and they will try their hardest to protect the happiness and balance in it. It's something they really want to fight for and preserve at all costs.

4. Pile 4

Pile 4 might be dealing with a Gemini or Libra (maybe both in charts). I'm getting they might be a bit younger than you in age or even if not younger, less experienced in life. They come across as someone who's very harmonious and agreeable. Overall, they have a very flighty energy about them. They might be someone who daydreams a lot or has difficulty in keeping themselves grounded. They tend to have a lot of ideas but get bored quickly, it's like the mundane and simplicity bores them. They might not be very materialistic though and I'm getting they might find dealing with practical matters a bit difficult due to their tendency to keep their head in the clouds. They might also be a bit reckless. Also probably kinda bad with directions lol and they might get lost a lot. Kinda clumsy?

I'm getting your relationship might be a bit unconventional. Sugar daddy/mommy vibes? For a small percentage of yall at least but it's like you'll be the one who pampers them. For others, it feels like a fling or rebound initially. I'm getting you might actually be the first person they get with or they're a bit inexperienced. One of you might get a bit possessive/obsessed or too attached here (I'm mostly getting it's them). I'm also getting that at one point in this relationship, you might have to make a choice. What that choice is will be revealed to you in time. Your person might view you as someone impactful, or someone who brought a major change in their life.

[sepublic]

I remember hearing that Dana was inspired by True Crime, amongst other things and people IRL, when writing Belos. And it seems that contrary to the notoriety of True Crime fans, she actually understood the assignment.

Because she opted to demystify the serial killer as this dark, unusual psychology that operates outside of societal borders and rules, disturbed by some secret reason, and instead literally pull off the mask to reveal he’s just some white manchild who hates women and minorities to a violent degree, because he feels threatened by them and their ability to say No in his entitlement. There’s nothing special or unique about his motives.

He’s no exception to the status quo, he is it unmasked of the veneer of civility, he’s the lynch mob and the cop (all of whom inherit the violence of white supremacy and colonialism) and fittingly a lot of serial killers were clocked by women and PoC as dangerous, but cops —largely white men— dismissed their claims because look at this dude, he seems like an upstanding citizen! And that’s really how he got away.

And because his victims were people the system was less likely to believe because they both operated on the same biases, you see why a lot of cops who commit brutality are drawn to an institution where they’re given violent power over brown and/or queer communities who are labeled as ‘suspicious’, because they enjoy easy targets they know the system doesn’t care about, and are enraged by body cams and accountability.

It doesn’t matter if they’re intentionally bigoted, their support of an inherently bigoted institution makes them the same; Internalized biases and “I don’t see race” and all that. You see how Philip wanted to be a witch hunter —the prototypical cop who is not exclusively violent towards women but still has a clear slant— or colonial savior so bad, because his violence could be legitimized by the authority of the state.

He leans into it hardcore when he feels threatened by the presence of an outside girl who challenges the Christian narrative of Gravesfield, to the point of violence; It’s a position that validates killing anyone who doesn’t agree with him in general, hence Caleb and the Grimwalkers, but of course his and society’s biases slant towards women and PoC. And while it ultimately doesn’t matter whether he’s intentionally racist/misogynistic, it’s worth addressing that he very much does have the intention due to his blatant Conservative backdrop.

And seeing how charming Philip is and the portrayal of him as a little kid playing games in his youth, a perception Caleb might’ve still had which led to his death, I can see the direct line to families who find out their sons are school shooters and are in disbelief because he was such a nice kid! While ignoring the obvious Red Flags because white men are allowed to express these without being immediately scrutinized by the community, by having it brushed off. On some level cops don’t suspect him because he’s the same type of guy as them.

Part of that denial comes from the fact that he’s not an “unfeeling sociopath” who’s wired differently. Philip can feel empathy and guilt like anyone else, but he’s still a hateful prick and these aren’t mutually exclusive; Not when people can be perfectly selective about who they extend these feelings towards, or even do things in spite of these feelings, because other ones —anger and pride and hatred— exist and they choose to prioritize those. There’s an assumption that empathy and guilt inherently make you a good person, but they don’t; That ultimately comes from what you do about it, not how you feel.

You could even say Dana and the other writers wrote him too well, because true to life, we have a similar issue but on a micro-scale via the abstraction of fiction regarding a very dedicated fan base who loves to romanticize him and his actions, attributing his issues to some secret trauma in childhood, a young man failed by society! While also scrubbing him of his racism and misogyny and reliance on the status quo, to make him ‘apolitical’ and you can see the same not just with fans but also in society.

Because society doesn’t want to acknowledge serial killers as just the truth behind their white sons and the system that absolved and encourages them, because that would require them to admit their guilt in how they’re structured. Rather, they’ll say these men reflect some dark truth inherent to humanity, and don’t exist within a certain sociopolitical framework.

And so he was a ‘loner’ whose problems can be pathologized via mental illness, his trauma can be traced back to a specific incident in his youth he just couldn’t get over. So you see how school shooters are made into victims, how serial killers are also made apolitical and even alien to distance them from the status quo.

And then you can lean into how unusual they are by writing characters like Dexter or Hannibal Lecter, you can not just defend the system but feed into it via the commodification of their violence as entertainment and consumption, and thus fuel the white supremacy train by letting their violence towards women and minorities be praised as something fascinating and interesting and conveniently clean of bigotry. This is the dichotomy of the hypothetical, romanticized Fantasy Serial Killer, and the banal IRL Serial Killer.

Thus we have the same cycle of white men’s violence being praised and validated by the system, and white men feeling entitled to this fame as a delusional fantasy. Because you’ve never heard of a black serial killer; Because black people are violent, that’s just the way they are, right? But if white men are violent, this is sensationalized as somehow unusual and fascinating and worth dedicating countless books and shows and movies towards. Obviously.

And even going back to witch hunters, sometimes I wonder about the constant consideration of, What if witches did exist? What if they were evil? Things like The VVitch or The Conjuring series, which have some framing of the Salem Witch Trials’ IRL violence towards women as legitimate in another universe, because of Satanism’s genuine predatory threat towards women, and how evil women sacrifice theirs or others’ God-given gift of a child, and now threaten another white Christian family.

And again there’s the the demystifying of the real life witch hunter too when we have a historical reenactment declare verbatim that IRL witch hunters were motivated by economics and other banal factors, not by any genuine belief in the dangers of demons; And even in a setting where the demons were real, they were not the predatory threat IRL witch hunters made them out to be, and so their very real biases and ulterior motives still apply in cumulative insincerity.

Hence, the Titan correcting Luz by explaining Belos as someone who only cares about being the hero in his own delusion; The fascist wet dream of a hidden invader here to corrupt even young white men, an outside monster to vanquish and whose destruction justifies the state, when in reality the monster IS the state, and before he was even presented as a witch (much less the human truth), his system’s destruction was called for.

Ultimately, a lot of True Crime and similar narratives are criticized for focusing more on this apparently inevitable mystique behind the perpetrators, who warrant far more attention than their victims. So when the villain is an example of True Crime, it’s worth noting how the show is so much more focused on the ‘weirdoes’ he targets, on women and/or PoC. The lives of Luz Noceda and her friends, them getting along and their psychologies, are just so much more important, and it really isn’t about that guy, who is informed as much as he needs to be.

But again, the True Crime fans dilemma; People genuinely salty at the show for not focusing on their favorite serial killer and his troubled backstory, his tragic motives and Puritan repression. The framing of his murders and motives isolated through the lens of his violence on undeserving white men, and not on the out-group he is specifically targeting and has committed much more violence on, esp if you look at the narrative’s actual framing of his impact on our protagonists, but also other victims who are witches or demons, and even his own self-professed motives; Hence, ‘Fratricide Georg’ as a joke depoliticized of his colonial violence, a violence that is not just adjacent to but fulfilling racism.

Because he hallucinated only those white men out of guilt, but that’s his biased perspective and priorities; And so you see how this is contrasted with a refusal to empathize with people like the Collector or Luz, who are put into the same situations as his white male victims via shared cinematography, yet are just as rejected. Luz is only put into this situation as convenient to Belos’ narrative, the closest replacement to a white male human he can get, but again if this girl of color says No, he tries to murder her and even does.

Yet again, people take genuine, personal insult at the creator for finding Belos to be her least favorite character to write, while ignoring that she still found him necessary to the story she was trying to tell; She just found the framing and focus should’ve been shifted to his actual victims’ deep and meaningful lives, how they matter. So people hate that S3 cares more about Luz Noceda’s relationship with her parents of color, as well as her female mentor and demonic brother, or her queer relationship with her girlfriend, etc.

And even when they get a bone of white boy Hunter, it’s still not enough; Fans inevitably gather themselves into an almost frenzied state of personal victimization, rallying into harassment of PoC who criticize their portrayal and discussion around their colonial serial killer fave, organizing dedicated trends and months to giving their white men the focus they ‘deserved’, because this is just White fandom in general.

Look at the entitlement campaigns regarding Ben Solo or Billy Hargroves deserving better, these young white men violent to women and minorities. It’s just the same thing but on a micro-scale, at least filtered via fictional characters. But Jesus you see how internalized biases bleed into everything. You’ve never heard of a black serial killer and fandom doesn’t fight for characters of color.

[ravennawritesfanfiction]

Imagine Being a Loyal Patron of the Theatre des Vampires and Catching Armand's Attention

Pairing: Armand x Reader

Word Count: 1933

Summary: You visit Theatre des Vampires and you notice things are exactly what they seem. You catch Armand's attention.

For months you had watched Santiago come out on stage and tell everyone what they were about to see was real and that he loved them for it. Every night, audience after audience was splattered with red syrup. Every night ending with a murder, a couple of hundred witnesses none the wiser. Assured by the same man that had previously stated that it was real, now telling them it was fake. Patrons convinced that the victims were part of the cast. Willful denial. 

You had been one of them once. However, you quickly realized you couldn’t fake that kind of terror. The fear that was palpable in the air. The look of impending death. In the end, Santiago had them greeting death like an old friend. It was not natural and you were hooked. 

You started watching the cast more intently. Their eyes were unnatural. The way that Santiago spoke to the victims, still he wasn’t the most interesting theater cast member. Each night he would “fly” up to the catwalk, the man up there never failed to meet your gaze. At first it seemed coincidental, like he was looking in your general direction making it appear as though he was looking at you. Then it didn’t matter where in the audience you were, he found you. You stopped watching the shows. Your eyes searching him out in the darkness. His calling to you. 

You attended every performance for two years. You had learned a few members' names. You had met Sam in the ticket booth; he sold the tickets to the shows he wrote. He always had your stubs waiting for you, the spot expertly tailored to your mood of the day. Each offering a new view of the shows you had memorized. It didn’t matter where you were sitting, you were still in view of him. It was as if Sam could read your mind. 

You had met all of the cast over the years. They were all particularly nice to you. It was hard to tell if it was the frequency of your patronage or if there was something more sinister at foot. After all, you knew they were actively killing people every night. Did they know that you had figured it out? That Theatre des Vampires wasn’t just clever or avant garde? 

Tonight was different. Sam wasn’t alone in the ticket booth. He didn’t have your ticket waiting for you. And as you approached, you were met with four unnaturally alluring eyes. The man for the catwalk.

“Would you accompany me tonight?” no introduction. Just an inquiring look that felt like a challenge. “We mean you no harm.” he softened his approach, likely noting that you shifted your weight towards the door. 

“On the Catwalk?” you were confused. Perhaps there would be a terrible accident resulting in you falling to your death. The only one that could tie the theater to the string of missing persons plaguing Paris.

“Yes, on the catwalk. No, you will not fall to your demise.” He smiled both breathtakingly stunning and terrifying. They knew. You had to realize how monumentally bad this was for you. 

“You never have anyone up there with you, save Santiago occasionally. So, why me?” you weren’t digging your heels in exactly, but you weren’t entirely ready to follow a vampire into the dark without knowing so much as his name. 

“We have been doing this for a hundred years. And no one had figured it out. If they did, they never came back, let alone returning every night.” He looked at you as if you belonged under a microscope, fit for study.

“So am I more of a curiosity or a threat to you?” your posture was as far from at ease as one could get. 

“Neither, Ma Cheri. You are more special than you know,” his eyes looked earnest.”Now, will you join me tonight? Otherwise we have a regular ticket for you.” you wanted nothing more than to say yes. It was an uncontrollable impulse. 

He led you into the theater, through the crowds of patrons and vampires. Celeste eyed you suspiciously. Santiago looked like a cat that was about to eat the canary. You were both mystified and terrified. As you approached the stairs to the catwalk, the actors were now far scarier than you had ever thought them to be. 

“Enjoy the show.” Santiago purred into your ear as you passed him, the hair on the back of your neck stood on end. He who had not yet been named led you up the stairs to the area you would be spectating from.

He stood there in silent appraisal, looking out over a sea of fresh spectators. You sat there appraising him. Even in his outward youth, you could see all of his countless years. You had so many questions but made no move to voice them. He volunteered nothing. 

The show began as it always had. Santiago addressed the audience and started his monologue that wound up with him flying up to the catwalk. This time, when the spotlight shifted, you were in it as well, and you saw something that both blew your mind and completely disarmed you. Santiago was not truly harnessed in. It was clipped to a random loop that looked like it could have been a harness, but in the end you realised that Santiago really was flying about the theater. Your dawning realisation was met with a wink before dropping back down to the stage. Your head was spinning. 

The rest of the play passed in a monotonous blur. You memorized the lines, knew all the queues. The only difference was now you could watch the mystery man up close. He was unmoving. He has a script with him, though he didn’t reference it much. The director?

The night’s victim was brought out and from here you could see the glimmering fangs. The screams echoed up here. The blood that made it onto the stage was visible where you had never seen it before. The body was dropped through a trapdoor and you could see down below the stage. You felt your legs give out. The ringing in your ears overpowered Sanitago’s closing remarks. You never felt the ground. Rather, two strong arms wrapped around you breaking your descent. 

“I told you you wouldn’t fall.” he offered you a soft smile as you fought back the tears of your own panic. You wanted to pull away, You wanted to puke. Too many feelings fighting to be the first released. “I’ll let you go if you promise to stay calm.” You looked at the theater, still full of patrons, and nodded.

“I need air.” you were gasping and your vision was fading to black around the edges. Like a brain shortcircuiting. You were gasping, panicking and grasping at anything to try and stay grounded. As it happened, the only thing for you to cling to had been him. 

“Let’s get you outside.” He helped you down the stairs, all but carrying you. You passed the theater vampires who appeared amused by your reaction to tonight’s show.

“I don’t understand.” you stated once the cool air of the night pricked your skin, reviving you into the nightmare your brain attempted to escape.

“Of course not. You were just faced with the impossible. All of the things you were taught are fiction just became fact.” he shifted away to give you space and was intrigued to see you moved with him, having to be near. 

“Why show me at all?” you looked at him as though this answer would solve all of life’s greatest mysteries. 

“Because you saw and accepted what no one else would. You saw a coven of vampires , pretending to be human, pretending to be vampires and called bullshit. But you kept coming back anyway.” He was the supernatural being, but looked at you as though your existence was the impossible one. “No it’s my turn, why?”

“Ummm,” did you lie and risk him calling you on it or answer honestly?

“Honestly.” he laughed as you jumped. It wasn’t the first time he had done this, but this time it was unnerving. 

“Two reasons I guess. First, I was curious about the impossibility of it all. And then there was you.” you glanced his way to gauge his reaction, but you found none. 

“Me?” It was a mock surprise. “You risked being right and possibly dying for it because of me?” the more he pondered the admission, the more confused he became. Surely he had known what your answer would be, but knowing and understanding did not equate the same thing.

“Yes, I guess so. Though the possibility of death didn’t occur to me until tonight.” he stood there looking at you slack jawed.

“Maybe you are a bit of a curiosity.” he joked, you relaxed.

“Two impossibilities?” You looked at him and made eye contact for the first time. He was saddened that this may not have happened. If only you could have known that Santiago had been the first to realise you knew. It had taken Him and Sam both to stop Santiago from following you home that night and draining you. 

“My name is Armand.” he offered, still searching your eyes for a flicker of home. “I have a question, if you’d permit me.” he looked so young, your heart felt like goo in your chest. You nodded for him to continue. “Would you ever consider joining me?” he looked slightly to your side, breaking eye contact.

“For a show or joining you more definitely?” Big difference.

“As my companion. You’ve called to me every night just as I have called to you.” he returned to your gaze.

“What does it mean to be a vampire’s companion?” even the world felt supernatural.

“The closest thing humans have is a spouse. Though a companion is far more than that. The life of a vampire is a lonely one. A companion is a shelter from that loneliness. A comfort in the dark painful existence.” for the hundredth time tonight you asked yourself why you. You hardly felt qualified for the task, though you understood the loneliness Armand described. 

“I do not wish to rob you of your mortality. I only long for your companionship for as long as you'll grant me.” It wasn't as if you had anything to lose. You had your flat and your own suffocating loneliness. 

“I accept. I will join you as your companion along with everything that comes with it.” maybe you were signing your own death warrant, but you quickly realized that you  didn’t care. “How does this work?” Armand closed the miniscule distance between you until your noses were touching. 

“However, you are comfortable.” he smiled as he stroked your hair. “But first, there is one thing you have to see.” He stepped back from you far enough for you to see his whole face. Out of nowhere, two sharp fangs appeared. 

Your response was unexpected. You pulled him in for a kiss, fangs bared and all. And he let you. 

“I agreed to be a vampire’s companion and you thought that your fangs were going to be the deal breaker?” you giggled and he just shook his head at you. Taken by the complex little creature you were. “I do have one question.”

“Anything.” he looked at you like you were the entire galaxy.

“Your place or mine?” you found yourself in a strange apartment before the syllable died on your lips. “Yours I guess.” You answered your own question.

[buginacup]

I just played through essentially all of what was available in the playtest, and as someone who IMMEDIATELY loved Collarva (which I believe you said you worked on?) on sight in both moves and visual design (I LOVE that wiped pose out in the field of pulling down their silk hoodie, and using hunker/grit is just kind of insane tbh) I'm curious what parts exactly you worked on (I don't even know if you got to work on its not-evolutions [metamorphs?] tbh) Also, any favorite beasties of yours that were in the Playtest?

I did the whole metamorph line! There was a while in development where we could pitch beasties that matched roles we were looking to fill, rather than what we do otherwise where we turn an extant concept (created by Greg or Alexis) into a design. The ones from the pitching period often had the same artist throughout, though I'd say even with the concept beasties it often worked out that way!

(Not to mention we often gave feedback to one another in the design process! Nobody is working entirely alone.)

I pitched these all at once!

We weren't super satisfied with the face of Collarva so I did a few iterative takes on new directions we could take them. As you might tell we wound up going for something around B!

With Collarva->Plumask they were looking for an early game lepidopteran (butterfly/moth) and I'm the go-to bug girl. There are a lot of moths and butterflies in monster games (bugs are the origins of the genre nobody is surprised) and I wanted to represent a type of moth that hadn't gotten much love yet. Plume moths are dusty looking creatures that don't look like they should be able to fly at a glance, it pulled me towards making something eerie and ghostly!

Image source here.

I don't want to color anyone's read of the line too much, but my general overarching theme was about picking up various personas/behaviors/aspects like a mossy rock until you find yourself as an adult and shed what you don't need. Both Axolati and Collarva are pulling from my teenage theatre kid life, uhuhu.

You can actually see the concept art for most beasties in the Beastiepedia under Morphology->Visual Studies. It even lists concept artists and sprite artists! (Research is concept/pose work and Videography refers to their in-game sprite and animation based off those poses)

In terms of mechanics/design we often don't have too much direct say. Since the color palette is often relevant we typically know what types of moves they'll specialize in. In my experience I'll pitch a concept and then give a narrative/emotional description that they use to inform stats/moves/etc. There are maybe one or two times where I lent a hand with stats/moves but I don't have a ton of time to play the game outside of work so I was always a bit too behind on the meta to contribute much, personally.

Yueffowl and Collarva are both favorites of mine! There are three or four beasties/beastie lines that are my precious babies and they're both included. They're among the ones where I really felt the most like I was expressing myself in the design. They definitely feel like designs I'll be remembered for.

[user16121215]

Typical Trial Against the Killers

TW - Unhealthy displays of affection, Abuse (Mental and Physical), General dickishness

Herman Carter (The Doctor)

• You are the absolute last person to go.

• The good doctor won't even look in your general direction until everyone else has been taken care of.

• He's just waiting until you're on your own and he has all the time in the world to play around with you.

• Entity forbid you end up at Léry's Memorial Institute. That place was his home, he knows every little crack and corner by heart. There's no possibility of hiding, and he's faster than you are.

• If you somehow manage to escape without him getting a hold of you, be prepared for absolute hell next time you're placed against the doctor.

• He's a very prideful man and doesn't like losing in general, but when his obsession manages to slip through his fingers, there's no force on this realm, or any other, that can hold him back.

• He may even forget about everyone else and focus on you right from the start if he's angry enough.

• If this man can get you on a medical table, or anything similar, may the Entity have mercy on your soul.

• Herman likes the chase as much as any old killer but when he's had enough, it's time to claim his reward by strapping you down and inflicting his special kind of treatment he tailored just for you

Max Thompson Jr (The Hillbilly)

• Completely focused on you from the start

• As soon as he realises you're there with him, he goes mad trying to catch you.

• Most of the other survivors will escape if you're in a trial with the hillbilly because he won't leave you alone.

• This does mean that you'll probably get left behind since no one can really help you out.

• Your survival depends entirely on how fast you can run and how well you can hold your breath in a locker.

• Once he manages to catch you, he'll take his time and won't rush over to any hooks. He likes to hold you.

• He will grab you as much as he can. Instead of bashing you on the head with an oversized hammer, if he can latch onto your arm or just yank you back by your shirt he'd much rather do that.

• Your skin is so much softer than his own. So he'll delight in, not so gently, grasping any exposed flesh. Watching how it squishes between his fingers.

• This does of course lead to some rather oddly shaped bruises.

• He doesn't necessarily want to hurt you and is definitely less malicious than his colleagues. Max has never been exposed to any kind of positive relationship in his life and doesn't know how to handle these emotions he feels around you so he reacts the only way he knows.

Evan Macmillan (The Trapper)

• He'll chase you, but you won't get hooked right away.

• You'll either be left in one of his many traps or just crawling your way to help.

• Evan loves watching you limp and crawl away as he casually chases after you.

• If you're particularly annoying during a match, he might hook you just to get you out of the way, but he would much rather take his time with you and will most likely let someone unhook you just so he can chase you all over again.

• One of Evan's greatest delights is making you watch as your team dash through the exit gate without giving you a second thought.

• The look of betrayal and anguish is one he could just eat up on anyone but it has a certain extra hit when etched into your face. Especially if it was his own hands that carved it there.

• He finds it an absolute delight to watch you crawling towards the hatch, only for him to yank you back by your ankle as your fingers just brush against the metal. He gains extra satisfaction of he can yank a broken ankle, most likely given to you by own of his traps.

• He doesn't mind so much if you do escape. Obviously he doesn't like losing, but he knows you'll be back. You're his little toy after all, and he will get to play with you again.

Philip Ojomo (The Wraith)

• Mmmm did somebody say stalker?

• If you're uncomfortable with the feeling of having somebody's eyes on the back of your neck constantly, well tough luck.

• Trials with this boy are usually short and sweet.

• He's more focused on watching you and how you work than paying attention to the Entity's nagging.

• He's going to try and get as close to you as possible. Meaning that if you're not observant, he's going to be standing behind you as you're going about your business.

• He might even crouch down next to you and just stay there observing your face as you get your work done.

• Probably one of the only killers that will allow you to escape a trial. Or he'll go easy on you at the very least.

• Doesn't mean he won't ruthlessly beat the shit out of you if you get too cocky after you escape from him a few times. Mistaking his generosity for some kind of skill on your end is just not going to fly and he needs to make you painfully aware that any victory you celebrate is down to him.

• A 'Thank you Mr. Wraith.' Would be nice if you could just StOp SqUiRMING FOR TWO SECONDS.

• He just needs you to remember that although he may take certain liberties when it comes to you, he's still here to do a job and that job is to kill you.

Anna (The Huntress)

• Anna doesn't treat you much differently in a trial, even if she's fond of you.

• Not familiar with any human interaction outside of the very limited experience her mother provided have left her ignorant to anything beyond primal instinct.

• Death is just part of her understanding of affection.

• She loved her mother, her mother died.

• She loved the children, the children died.

• She may love you, and you suffer the same fate.

• Though you are different because you come back from death.

• Which only inspires her to kill you again.

• The hunt is courtship, the pain is yearning and death is love.

• And while she hunts, hurts and kills other survivors, you remain special to her and although nothing is different in the executions between you and your fellow sacrifices, to her it is night and day.

• She expects you to know that.

• She doesn't understand that you can't see the difference.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Kung Lao yandere headcanons

Warnings: Yandere (obsessive and toxic themes) just cute little mentions of gore and murder blah blah blahhhhhhh…kung Lao being a little bitch. (Kinda inserted my fiancé as Kung Lao so if the personality is off…no it isn’t they are literally the same exact person🤞)

Requests: only for Yandere Kung Lao, Shang tsung, raiden and Johnny Cage mk11/mk1/X

General Yandere Headcanons

Kung lao has been fond of you from the beginning. You were always very open and welcoming towards him. Never once did you ever make fun of his hat or ever compare himself with Liu Kang like many many others.

Whenever he messed up or didn’t quite match up with his counterpart, you would encourage him and remind him of all he has to offer and that one small fail shouldn’t break him. You were the best friend Kung Lao could ever ask for.

As much as he’d hate to admit, he was desperate for this kind of special attention. He needed to be loved and praised, he needed to be better than all the other competitors. He especially needs to be better than Liu Kang…

After seeing him train harder than ever this past year for the next tournament, you turned to him and said..

“You know what? I honestly think you’re a far better fighter than Liu Kang at this point, and I wish more people could see that. It kind of irks me how Raiden doesn’t believe in you like he does Liu.”

Anyone else would say you were being a little too generous with that statement, but you meant exactly what you said.

Little did you know that this seemingly harmless comment made something in his brain snap….

No one has ever said anything remotely close to this to him. Sure, he’s gotten good remarks on his skills before but he’s always lived in his friend’s shadow. Finally, someone sees him for just how great he truly is.

His inhibitions were now gone and in that moment he decided you were his. You say it’s kidnapping, he says it’s redirecting you in the direction of his house. potato,patato!

He feels absolutely no guilt for kidnapping you and forcing your relationship. He believes he’s in the right most times. Everything he does is justified, including this……in some very sick way.

Kung Lao is a very needy and klingy Yandere. He orders you to be around him at all times or at least updating him constantly when you can’t be. Which is very rare, usually only happens if he has to be with the shaolin or if Raiden needs to speak with him privately.

He has a huge ego that constantly needs to be inflated by you. The man can’t help it, he craves your worship.

This means when he forces you to attend his sparring matches, tournaments, and workout sessions, you need to pay extra close attention. He will ask you specifically what you enjoyed about today's session and you better be raving about it, or it’ll be a hissy fit for the rest of the day. (So sassy)

Will shower you in compliments all damn day. He thinks you're absolutely beautiful in every single way and one thing that Kung Lao hates more than anything is someone with low self esteem. Lack of confidence is annoying to him so he’ll make sure you know you’ve got it going on.

(Ironic since deep down he’s crippling from his insecurities)

Very very physically affectionate and expects you to reciprocate it. Smothers you in kisses and cuddles.You have to hold his hand in public so people know that you're his. The way his grip is on you thooo. ;-;

Will just plop on top of you like he’s not 180 pounds of pure muscle. He’s so huge omg like you get crushed any time he has one of his love attacks.

Has a very mildly short temper. Most of his anger is never really taken out on you though. He’s just kind of asshole-ish to everyone outside of you

Will 100% threaten you and let you know that he’s not to be tested tho. He loves games but not when they come to you.

He cannot bear you giving anyone other than him attention, especially other men. Why do you even need to speak to other men??? You have the great Kung Lao right next to you.

Someone hits on you, he’ll get rid of them….

He’s willing to kill anyone for you. It’s all honorable, because it’s to protect the sanctity of his precious relationship.

If you start talking to someone for a little too long, flirting or he suspects you’re interested in another, he’s going to kill them too.. slowly and brutally…all for you to watch. He’ll slice the unsuspecting fellow in half, look up at you with a big ol’ grin!

“See, this is what I have to do when you start talking to people you shouldn’t. Now my hat is all filthy because of you.”

You need to know that Kung Lao is serious about you, and there are consequences to your stupidity. This will surely keep you in line.

Will also set punishments up too. He can’t find it in his heart to ever put his hands on you, but sometimes when he’s in one of many temper tantrums, he’ll leave bruises on your arm from grabbing or pulling you too hard. Though with that said, even if you try attacking him he will just try to pin you down or restrain your hands until you finally give up.

It’s kind of cute to him when you struggle. He’s so much stronger and bigger than you but you still think you have a chance…aww that’s so adorable and kind of amusing to him.

Usually his punishments consist of him locking you up for a day or two in his room, making you clean off his bloody clothes after he’s dealt with someone because of you, or doing some kind of chores he doesn’t want to.

If you try running away he will be deeply hurt and humiliated by this. He scolds you after he catches you and immediately ties you up. He takes away any basic necessities to further punish you. You’ve embarrassed him and now he’ll have to endure the whispers about it.

Why would you run away from the only person who can keep you safe? Is he not enough for you anymore???

You think this is some sort of fun joke?

Do you think someone fights better than him?????? If so he will challenge them to kombat to show you that he’s just as great as he was before.

Once he finally calms down kung lao would be very mopey for the next couple of hours. His ego is shattered in this moment and he just wants you to love him back. He’ll cling on anything you give him, he’ll even lose the hat for you if it meant that you’d never leave him again.

This is one of the only times where he’s openly vulnerable to you, outside of this he puts on his usual persona. Always self assured and well together. If you see Lao’s weak side too often you’ll think less of him.

Once you’ve finally gave in to his painful hours of pandering and promised to never leave him again, he snaps back to his old self.

It doesn’t matter how much you only thought of him as a close friend, Kung Lao is determined to break you down and become his perfect match. You’re the only one who understands him, and sees his true worth so he’d be a fool to just let you slip away. He’ll prove to you that he truly is the greatest once becomes the next champion. You'll soon see.

[feirceangel]

Imagine | Slice of Life (Luffy)

Imagine getting into a food fight and then cleaning up :)

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, bathing, non-sexual nudity, general good vibes.

Word Count: 1,056

(Not my gif)

"What's going on?" You ask with arms crossed.

"Nuf'n," comes the mumbled reply from Luffy. His face is stuffed full of the cake you had just finished icing, frosting plastered all over his face.

"Sure," you drawl, shaking your head.

Honestly, you excepted nothing less from Luffy. You know him better than anyone else. That's why you actually made two cakes and hid the other one where he can't get his grubby hands on it.

"You weren't supposed to eat that."

"But it was right here," he whines.

"No excuse."

He slowly pushes a piece of the cake across the table towards you.

"I saved you a piece."

You can't help but smile at that display of affection. Luffy is notorious for not sharing his food, but he always shares with you.

"Thanks, Luff," you grab a fork and sit down. "I'll forgive you this time."

He laughs, "You always forgive me, Y/n!"

You flick some cake from your fork and hit him directly on the forehead, "Only cause you're a dumbass."

He laughs harder at that, sending a splat of cake onto your cheek as he does.

Your laughter joins his as you stand and smush a larger piece of the frosted goodness into his face. He sits still for a minute before bolting to his feet and smashing his lips against yours.

Taken by surprise, you are quick to return the favour. The taste of cake on your tongue coupled with Luffy's lips is a heavenly sensation.

He breaks away with a huge grin, “I’m your dumbass, dumbass.”

You wipe some of the cake from his cheek, “We should go get washed up. You’re a mess.”

“So are you, shishishi,” he giggles.

“You two are making me sick!” Nami exclaims, having been silently judging you two for having a food fight as she sat in the corner and flipped through her ledger.

You and Luffy simultaneously stick out your tongues in her direction.

She rolls her eyes and goes back to ignoring you both. You know it’s all in good fun, Nami is your best friend after all. She just likes to tease you.

The weather has been excellent today, not a cloud in the sky. But you told Sanji you’d make dessert today, so that’s why you were in the kitchen. Luffy had snuck in after you went to tell Sanji that the cakes were done.

Now, you grab Luffy’s warm hand and drag him into the bathroom, serious about getting clean.

“Y/n, I don’t wanna,” he grumbles.

“But we’re filthy,” you reason. “Besides, I thought you didn’t mind bathing with me? Do you want me to go?”

You turn to leave, embarrassed at assuming he wanted to share a bath with you. Before you can walk out the door, hands grab your shoulders and spin you around.

Luffy pouts at you, having stretched his arms to stop you.

“Don’t leave! I didn’t mean that,” he pulls you close and you let him. “I like spending alone time with you.”

“Same here, Luff.”

You smile at him and he returns the grin. Turning the tap on, you fill the tub with hot water, adding sweet smelling suds.

Meanwhile, Luffy’s taken off his hat and shirt, tossing them on the floor. You grab a soft washcloth, getting the worst of the cake off of Luffy before focusing on yourself.

Stripping down, you and Luffy quickly step into the shower to rinse off before sinking down into the soapy water of the bath.

The tub has more than enough room for you both, but Luffy wraps his arms around you and draws you close to him. You lean back against him, smiling in his embrace.

It’s the tender moments like these that bring a swell of warmth to your heart.

Sure, you always know how much love you have for each other, but there’s something special in these quiet moments.

Normally, you’re both boisterous and loud. Making jokes and going on adventures. The last battle you went through had seriously drained your energy though. Luffy seems to realize that you need this downtime.

He slowly rubs circles into your arm with the washcloth, lazily washing you.

You let him, relaxing as he gentle cleanses you.

“Luffy, thank you.”

“What for?” He genuinely sounds confused. “I didn’t do anything?”

“Just, for being here and being you.”

“I’m always here for you, silly,” he pats your head.

“I know, I just want you to know I appreciate you.”

You take the cloth from his hand as you give him a small kiss.

“My turn,” you guide him in front of you, wanting to have a turn as the big spoon.

He obliged without question, resting his head on your bosom and gazing up into your eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you kiss his forehead as you tenderly wash his chest.

Your hands cover each of his scars, replacing the traumatic memories of how he acquired them with your loving touch instead.

Water hot around you, you secure your arms around him, sighing contentedly into the crook of his neck.

He giggles and twists to kiss your lips again, “That tickles.”

“Whoops,” you chuckle back, chasing his lips when he moves away. “Get back here.”

He splashes you with water, effectively leaving you sputtering. You grin with fire in your eyes and return the onslaught of water tenfold.

The laughter must be extremely loud, cause a bang of the door interrupts your water fight.

“Don’t make a mess in there!”

You exchange a look with Luffy before guffawing loudly, “Too late, Nami!!”

She cusses you both out loudly as you laugh hysterically and continue your fight.

“We really should get out now though,” you say after it’s calmed down a bit.

He pouts and scrunches his face.

“Guess what?” You say as you start drawing the tub and grab a fluffy towel to dry off.

“What?”

You grin mischievously, “I made two cakes.”

His eyes light up brightly, “Really?!!”

By now, you’re already clothed and have your hand on the door handle.

“Yup, and it’s all mine!” You laugh as you race from the room, leaving Luffy behind as his legs get tangled in his shorts.

“Wait, Y/n-“ he yells after you.

Laughing, you race to the kitchen, Luffy close behind you.

[sen-ya]

heart eyes @ Lawlu fam au's Robin + love that Kaya joined the strawhats, i'm curious about the bond she has with the rest of the crew - especially Sanji (👀) and the non-East Blue crewmates!!! also Brook teaching anyone who shows moderate interest in music is so real i love that headcanon!!

Ahhhh I love Kaya I’m sorry if I drone on in random directions here!! Okay okay so the general vibe of how she got there is after Laugh Tale (and whatever happens there I dare not speculate I’m bad at guessing) the Straw Hats eventually make their way back to the East Blue and Usopp stays in Syrup village for a little longer than the rest of the crew and when they come back for him he’s like “uh so hi uh Kaya and I got married” and Luffy’s like “SHE WAS CREW BEFORE SHE’S CREW NOW GET ON THIS BOAT :^))” Then there’s a period of time when her and Usopp decide they want to have a kid (surprise it’s two kids) where they spend a few years in Syrup Village before they rejoin the Straw Hats which I know I mentioned okay but so w Sanji I think before the kids they’re very friendly, Sanji always knew about Kaya and Usopp would write to Kaya and talk abt all the crew but esp Sanji so there’s a bit of that “I feel like I already know you” vibe with them. She does already know the rest of the East Blue crew so she’d probably gravitate towards them at first and out of all of them besides Usopp I think she’d vibe the most with Luffy and Sanji. Her and Chopper are fast friends for obvious reasons, and they start to kind of divvy up doctor-ing duties. Kaya specialized in traumatic injury so she could help Usopp on his adventures and Chopper specializes in internal medicine so she becomes a huge help in the aftermath of battles. First round of treatment from Dr. Kaya and ongoing treatment with Dr. Chopper :^) Add Law into the mix when the Hearts are around and they have a little Doctor Club where the three of them are always exchanging knowledge and books and things they’ve found around the world that are helpful. The three of them are really comfortable friends and like to study in the same room together without talking for like hours. In a similar vein I think her and Robin get along really well and will read quietly together. The way that Robin just says creepy shit Kaya has a way of doing that too, but with such a friendly face and tone it’ll take people a long time to even begin to clock why what she said is fucked up (makes giving Bad Doctor News very easy, she’s a kind of calming that after the fact makes you go ??? How did that work). She spends a fair amount of time with Franky because she likes to hang out in the workshop while Usopp tinkers, and it turns into her learning a thing or two from Franky as well. Brook tried to teach her piano because it seemed like something she’d like but she was low key terrible at it and the lessons went on much longer than they should have because they were both too polite to suggest they stop.

After her and Usopp rejoin the Straw Hats Sanji is immediately obsessed with their kids. Sanji has such “I will parent the shit out of any child” energy okay this guy was born to dad. Ofc it makes Usopp’s heart full to see his kids with his boyf, and Usopp is a very involved dad (he would never be like his own dad), but it just situationally ends up giving Kaya & Sanji more one on one time than they’d had before (switching off parenting duties, Kaya’s not really a fighter so she tends to stay back on the ship if there’s conflict, Sanji esp at first volunteers to stay back with her and the kids to keep watch). All of that plus the fact that Sanji’s always been framed to her as this guy the person she loves loves, it’s only a hop skip and a jump away until “oops I have a crush on my husband’s boyfriend.” Esp cause I don’t think Usopp would be shy about being affectionate with either of them, so all three of them plus the two kids just end up in a pile super often.

ALSO OKAY WE WERE ROBBED OF SHORT HAIRED ROBIN ODA ALMOST GAVE HER TO US AND I WILL NEVER FORGET

[jounosparticles]

reply to the tags of your reply to my previous ask: PLEASE RANT TO ME ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP!!!! i want to hear. they rot my brain too and im glad that i found someone who's also suffering the suegiku takeover

OKAYOKAY YAY!!!!! this will be fun >:)

a huge suegiku analysis:

okay in the last ask you mentioned how tetchou stabs jouno for fun and sillies and stuff which happened to make me think a lot about how tetchou acts decently different around jouno than others.

tetchou is typically rather formal in the way he acts in a way? as in he's very straightforward, generally composed and calm in his words, and polite to anyone he's dealing with.

an example of this is when he still treated the cafe owner kindly despite him being an "accessory to terrorism" in jouno's words.

basically, in most situations, he remains very composed. even when he's up to his sillier antics (like when he was watching ants or doing pushups during a meeting). he's direct and straight-faced almost always around most people. he doesn't act that way to be seen as silly, it's just who he is (and i love it).

i would imagine he could act this way for many reasons. it is most likely him being professional, likely as a reference to the irl tetchou who had samurai lineage; making him act with the tone and professionalism of samurai.

despite his professionalism, maybe he has difficulty being expressive around most people, or maybe he doesn't want to be expressive around people by choice.

but this is where he's different around jouno.

firstly, i'll talk about the times he's stabbed jouno. this has happened twice, and both were to de-escalate jouno from his tendancy to mentally torment people.

the wording in these panels implies this is a regular occurrence. which is a little funny to me hehe.

anyway, we see by the way that he acts around others that usually he de-escalates situations by talking first instead of acting. he will turn to violence if he believes it's needed, but typically he talks first. we see this when he confronts kenji verbally before attacking.

yet with jouno he doesn't bother to tell him to stop first, instead opting to jab him. remembering that the hunting dogs have enhanced physical strength, a small stab wound probably isn't a huge deal for them.

because of this i think the stabbings are tetchou partially teasing jouno. him messing around like that isn't something he does with anybody else but he seems to enjoy pissing off his partner.

also. stabbing him directly in the ass? gay as hell. jouno following up by saying "don't poke my ass every single time" implies that his ass specially gets jabbed a lot. hmmmm

anyways

another example of this is when tetchou smirks/chuckles at jouno insisting that he's the greatest hunting dog. the small laugh was most definitely to bother jouno.

mmmm theyre both so pretty.

once again, tetchou pushes aside his composed self and being intentionally silly only really happens towards jouno.

arguably, this can be shown again in the pushups scene.

tetchou acting unbothered and then calling jouno's weight "just right" while he continues to exercise seems like a combination of him trying to (jokingly) annoy jouno as well as his tendency to not acknowledge his own actions as bothersome or odd to others.

anyway to sum up this segment: tetchou is only seen intentionally bothering and teasing jouno and nobody else. he acts much differently towards others but seems to let his professional guard down around only his partner. this shows a great layer of trust and comfort between the two!

oh. but im not done talking about this. not at all.

the other huge display of emotions for tetchou was everything that went down with kenji.

as displayed throughout most of tetchou's appearances, he's incredibly justice-orientated. he has a tendancy to put justice above everything. here's a couple panels showing this:

ooog tetchou is so pretty. i love that left panel so much

using his own logic here, he should have went after bram after having found him. tetchou even admitted that, but there was one other thing more important to him than that. jouno.

starting here, this panel takes place after bram and aya escape. at this point, tetchou had assumed the agency was using bram to control people; meaning it wasn't just kenji he technically had business with at that time.

i will also preface this by saying the book's influence likely had an impact on tetchou attacking kenji before they could finish talking.

however, the book's writing didn't stop tetchou from insisting on finding jouno before taking down the agency. his worry towards jouno's whereabouts made him change his stance on justice as well as deterred him from prioritizing taking down the agency.

now that he's talking to kenji, i'd like to start it by showing that he seemed genuinely grateful and happy when kenji initially offered to help him find jouno.

as well in the anime, his eyes soften when kenji offers to help.

after talking to kenji for a brief moment, he opts to attack instead of continuing. this seems out of character for tetchou; he even apologized to kenji before saying he needs to find jouno as quickly as possible.

the fact that he apologized, combined with how we've seen him treat people in the past shows that this isn't typically what he resorts to.

also, in the anime we can see the gloss his eyes slightly shaking as he says this line, which could display worry, sadness, or anger towards whatever could be happening to his partner.

he seems almost distraught, which is a huge contrast to his typically-composed self.

and, of course; there's the fact that mid-fight tetchou had to tell kenji that jouno is a good person despite what people think.

he looks genuinely sad here, as if he's speaking from his heart. jouno has very-clearly put up a tough exterior that he uses around everyone, but tetchou goes out of his way to defend him even when he absolutely doesn't need to.

he could have stayed silent or just said he wants his coworker back, but he insisted on stating that jouno is a good person.

it's also important to note that nobody else tends to speak kindly of jouno, which puts a lot more depth on their closeness to each other. tetchou sees through jouno's words and actions and knows that he is heavily misunderstood.

and of course, we have tetchou directly saying that he will place jouno above justice despite knowing what the right course of action should have been.

he is putting jouno above the very thing he basis his career as well as his morality on. that's how worried he is. that's how much he cares.

and in this panel, we see he's extremely angry towards kenji's lack of response.

lets compare this to the first time tetchou fought the agency.

in chapter 61, when he was fighting the agency alongside jouno; he kept a more menacing/intimidating look as he attacked. when he was not attacking, he kept calm-looking despite being pissed off. compared to when he was fighting kenji in chapter 100 and looked infuriated. even the different fonts used for the dialogue puts further emphasis on this.

now, i'm going to jump ahead to the end of tetchou and kenji's fight. tetchou recognizes his mistake and asks kenji to kill him.

it's important to note that his reasoning as to why he should have chased justice was because he doesn't think jouno would have condoned his choice.

he specified it again, even opting to call jouno his friend. also note how white his eyes are here, meaning his intent was pure and he genuinely felt awful for misjudging what jouno would have wanted. he cares so much that he was asking to be killed for misunderstanding what was the correct course of action.

and then after kenji insists on helping him find jouno instead, he smiles in relief before the two pass out.

one last small note is that we've only ever seen tetchou smile three times throughout the manga so far, and all of them were mentioned here and involved jouno.

to sum it all up: tetchou, who is typically very composed and justice-orientated, is willing to throw aside his entire stance on justice for jouno. he lets his professional guard down around his friend, allowing them to tease each other and be silly as well, which he doesn't appear to do around others often. this shows that the two have a close bond and genuinely care so much about each other.

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

as for jouno, i don't have as much to say however there definitely is a few things i'd like to touch on.

firstly, despite claiming to hate tetchou a lot, jouno still uses a respectful honourific (-san) whenever he refers to him. i'm not a japanese speaker so please feel free to correct me if i'm wrong but there's a good chance jouno would opt to not use an honorific at all if he genuinely detested tetchou as much as he claims.

and when it comes to teasing, jouno does it much more often than tetchou does (however he also messes with more people, it's just a personality difference between the two).

clearly with the way they act around each other, jouno does not actually hate tetchou. i think they like to bother each other by play-bullying.

also, noting on jouno's criminal past, he was given an easy oppurtunity to be thrown into the DoA where he could be incredibly powerful and would likely not face any consequences for his actions had he joined.

we know he declined fukuchi's offer because he found joy in saving innocent people. but i would the influence of the other hunting dogs helped set him into that place of mind. tetchou seems to be the one he works with most, so there's a good chance he takes a lot of inspiration from how tetchou handles justice.

another thing i noticed with jouno is that his displaying of emotions is almost an inverse of how tetchou acts. jouno keeps smiling a lot despite who he's speaking to. in contrast, he can keep a straight face when interacting with tetchou a lot.

of course, that could make it seem as if jouno is unhappy around tetchou, but i would argue it's the opposite.

some people will force a happy expression to appear unassuming or kind (or in a lot of jouno's cases, intimidating). so him allowing himself to maintain a straight face around tetchou could mean that he is comfortable enough around him to not feel the need to express everything. he doesn't need to keep his guard up around tetchou.

jouno almost always keeps a very happy or calm composure around enemies, likely as an intimidation factor. yet he allows himself to express frustration and annoyance around the hunting dogs in general, and most often with tetchou. i'd like to imagine this just shows his security in his partner.

jouno talking to an enemy, for reference ^ i also just really love this page hehe

the last thing i'll mention here is a lot of speculation on my behalf. however i think that jouno seems like the type to push away those close to him. i kind of perceived his supposed hatred towards tetchou to be a combination of joking around as well as possibly a defense mechanism to try and avoid keeping people close?

my main reason in stating that is that he's claimed to not like any of his coworkers yet still opts to not betray them and still works well with them. if he truly hated tetchou, he probably wouldn't allow them to work together. he likely says such things to avoid being liked too much, and these actions proved to work since tetchou acknowledged that everyone sees jouno as cold.

yet through all that tetchou still knew he was good despite the exterior, which makes them well-suited for each other.

anyways: i feel like these two really do treat each other much differently than they treat the other people around them. that puts a lot of emphasis on their bond and closeness in general. they can be silly around each other, they can get through arguments no problem, they make a great team, and clearly care about each other a ton! they mean so much to me <3

i love my sillies :)

[lefarte]

Can i ask how funger 2 or 1 characters which you can choose react to an enigmatic reader who is a yellow mage who makes very smooth moves like pure silk while also holding a very calm and nonchalant expression?

Yeas :3 I’m catching up with some of the older requests in my inbox

Abella

She’s enthralled by your mystery… it makes her think of a romance story.

She doesn’t know much of anything about yellow mages so she’d be making up fantasies in her head. And her crush on you makes her think of you as way stronger than you actually are. “Do you live in a castle?… have you ever flown through the sky?… Can you shapeshift?” “😐?”

Abella wants to try dancing with you. She’s actually pretty good, and can hold a rhythm well. Though she’s not perfect, she’s moreso happy to blow off steam. It’s been years since she last danced, and she’s never danced with anyone but her little siblings.

As the war picked up, things were so dour that she forgot what it was like to have a crush. She gets giddy easily. Like sometimes she’ll be outside pacing or lying on the bed kicking her feet because she feels like a girl again.

She likes that you’re kind of stoic. It makes her feel extra special if she can get you to talk, or especially to smile.

Abella would take some interest in learning magic, but ultimately have little talent for it, which frustrates her. But, she is okay with her fighting in the front and you staying behind doing magic. She’s a little insecure about way of fighting being less… elegant. But if it works, it works. She’d rather not fight unless she has to, anyway.

I can see her picking you up and throwing you so you can do a cool little landing and impress people. She’ll also carry you on her shoulders like a parrot. Basically I can see her just manhandling you in general, picking you up and giving you surprise hugs and kisses.

Pav

Pav doesn’t like people who don’t react to him.

He also doesn’t like magic or magic wielders in general. He used to be firmly against the idea of magic existing, though things have changed, of course. I still imagine him being cautious. You have a weapon that he doesn’t understand, and he doesn’t like that.

After a while he understands that you won’t attack unless provoked. He still can’t help but test that line though. Would you kill him if he threatened you? Mocked you? Threatened someone else? …Poked you?

After a few minutes of conversation he would get annoyed that his normal Bremen-soldier shtick isn’t working, and wander away with his tail between his legs.

Every encounter after that he tries to prod at you to get a reaction. After some point it stops being about asserting dominance over you and more out of curiosity. Trying to study you.

I think Pav has a very rigid sense of hierarchy, so he could very quickly acknowledge your skills, and if you were working together he would take orders from you. Quietly. He wouldn’t act deferentially towards you, he’s still going to try to pick at you. But he acknowledges that you are helpful. Helpful. That’s all.

Also I think that Pav is frightened of ghosts. The orphanage is his worst nightmare. He’s standing unusually close to you, who just so happens to be the only one able to kill the ghost girl. For no particular reason.

If he thinks that you’ll have a reaction he’ll do anything, so you can push him into the direction of embarassing himself if you want to be mean….

For example, if you fake going to grab a hat, like “oh that’s a cute hat” he’ll snatch it up out of your hands and put it on immediately. And then he’s stuck wearing an ugly hat. And your party will laugh at him.

Samarie

Samarie knows about yellow mages due to her studies. Though she has interest in the teachings, the philosophy isn’t for her. She quite likes the few mortal possessions she has, the small tethers to the real world rather than the magic she was born into.

Two similarly quiet people but both on the opposite ends of the spectrum. One nervous wreck Samarie who freaks out over everything and one completely chill you. She needs to hold you like a teddy bear while hyperventilating after every monster encounter.

Samarie could never do the danse macabre - or any dance for that matter. She’s too weak and gangly from malnutrition, all her movements are a little clumsy. She’s more of a Sylvian girl than a Grogoroth girl… if you want to dance with her you’ll have to put her on your back, or hold her bridal carry. (She’s tall but light, it won’t be a problem.)

Sometimes you will have entire conversations just by staring at each other like this 😐 and the other contestants will find it SO weird. Well, Samarie can read minds but that doesn’t count. She’s staring at your eyes the whole time and spacing out.

Sharing your magic studies! Trading skin bibles! She shows you little tricks she picked up from the Ninth Circle, and you show her things you learned from your travels!

Since Samarie was raised in captivity underground, she wants to hear everything about life outside. She gets such a calm and peaceful look when she sees the visions of your travels in your head. She will plead with you to hear all of your stories and see all of the memories from your eyes. Her heart starts beating so fast with excitement, feeling like she’s there with you.

Samarie will never be able to see the world outside, she is already reaching the end of her lifespan. She loves small things, like trinkets and souvenirs. She doesn’t smile a whole lot, but she gives you a nervous little grin.