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bunni-v1 · 1 day ago

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May we get some crk thoughts, my liege? I too have a hyperfixation—

Shadow Milk Cookie Headcannons (SFW & NSFW)

🍓Thank you for the excuse to write this shit, I feel less insane being asked to do it lol. I still think this might taint my public image, so lets hope none of my future employers fuck with tumblr. Anyway only smc since he's who I'm obsessing over. I was gonna add pv, but I write wayyyy too much to include both of them on one post. Maybe I'll do him if someone asks nicely. I'll have a mix of both sfw and nsfw so beware lol.

MDNI (I'll find u)

TW: Shadow Milk Cookie; Obsessive behaviors; Stalking mentioned; Nsfw under the cut; unedited

Info: Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader; Sfw & Nsfw headcannons

Credit for Beast Bite Idea: @rollingeevee (go give them love I adore this AU)

-To start I'm gonna say, he's insane, like genuinely. He leans into a lot of yandere-esque behaviors, but I firmly believe he's not a full-on yandere, just really fucked up in the head (trauma and such, poor thing, wah wah wah.)

-Pre-Corruption Shadow Milk surely had a lot of admirers, but admiration is very different from genuine love and connection. He was, in a very literal sense, on a different level than all the cookies on earthbread. He's immortal, a god meant to care for all cookies, romantic relationships with cookies (other than the other heroes) just aren't an option in his mind. (For the sake of these, none of the beasts have had any romantic interaction with him, because I don't wanna deal with that can of worms rn.)

-All that to say, it's highly unlikely he has much experience in relationships. Maybe he's had flings, and some sexual encounters, but I doubt he would commit to someone he would inevitably lose to time. And, sure, he certainly could artificially extend their lifetime... but that's unethical and unfair to his partner. The burden of immortality is not one a regular cookie is baked to bear.

-So when he is inevitably corrupted and sealed away, romance isn't really a thought on his mind. He's very fixated on escaping that stupid tree and enacting his revenge. Which he does, at least in part, and with his freedom comes half of his powers and ensuing chaos.

-There are not many ways he could meet you if I'm quite honest, so I'll leave that up to personal interpretation. However you do meet him, though, you have to be intriguing. He gets bored of people easily, so you have to stand out -- be that in your demeanor or the way you speak or how you challenge him, it just has to be interesting. Once he's interested he's hooked.

-He's rather... mmm... obsessive? He likely stalks you for a while before he makes any moves. He wants to learn your patterns, the cookies you surround yourself with, the things you like, your job, your favorite foods, what flowers you like, and how do you feel about his chaos? He'll even manipulate things around you, just to see how you might react. (Is it fucked up? Yeah, lol! But isn't it equally endearing? He seems to think so.)

-You have frequent reoccurring dreams about him in this period of time. You've only seen him from a distance at this point, but you can't quite shake him from your thoughts. What's very important here is that you realize that your thoughts are not your own. Acknowledge that he's watching, and make sure that he's aware you're aware. Be that by purposefully doing something he could recognize as acknowledgment, or outright saying that you're aware he's messing with you. He values curiosity and intelligence in a person, if you can break yourself out of his cycle he's 100% sold on you.

-It doesn't take much longer after that for him to make his first official appearance. Bowing gracefully in front of you as he materializes from thin air, smiling like a man driven mad by infatuation.

-Believe it or not, he's really not all that creepy or pushy. He's very playful and charming, and while you have the knowledge he'd been watching you for a long time at this point, it's hard not to fall for him. He flirts with an ease that no other cookie really has, and he's so very funny never failing to get a smile out of you at his jokes.

-Now, this may go against what others characterize him as a lot, but I don't believe he's the type to steal you away and lock you up. Shadow Milk is a cookie who wants to be wanted, he doesn't want his feelings to be entirely one-sided, it would really hurt him to pour himself into someone who does not want to reciprocate his passions.

-He's unbelievably patient with you. Despite what the mental manipulation from earlier implies, he allows you to set the pace and make the moves, mostly nudging you gently in the direction he wants you to go now that he has your attention. Again, he wants you to choose him. He wants you to love him, so he will happily wait as long as it takes for you to realize and accept your longing for him.

-He gives you the flowers you like, and listens to you talk about your exceedingly boring days (with rapt attention, of course, he loves listening to you talk as much as he loves talking). If you ask, he'll take you anywhere you'd like to go on earthbread with a snap of his fingers, showing you sights you'd only dreamed of seeing. (Whether or not these are illusions are still up for debate).

-It's very hard not to fall for him with all this considered, and he knows that of course. He was just waiting for you to confess, and you have to confess. He won't do it even if you make it clear you want him to. It's not something he'd ever admit to you -- or himself -- but he doesn't want to risk even the slightest bit of rejection. It would break him more than he's already been broken, so you'll have to do it for our poor little jester.

-When you do though? Oh, he's over the moon! Practically swooning as he scoops you up and spins you around in celebration. He's so overjoyed. He is wanted, there is someone in this world who loves him genuinely. There's no false platitudes or any worshipping done, just raw affection between the two of you. (Just the tiniest bit of manipulation at the start, but obviously you've dismissed and forgiven that at this point).

-Again, he doesn't immediately take you away from your life if you don't wish to be. He does heavily encourage you to come spend your days with him, though. He can take care of you, he's literally a god, you'll never ever want for anything so long as he can control it (which he can, duh).

-I feel it very important to emphasize that in a relationship with him, you are equal. Even if you literally cannot be equal in stature and power, you are equal in the relationship -- if anything you have more sway over him than he does over you. He's very, very in love with you, and he will do just about anything you ask of him so long as it doesn't interfere with obtaining his souljam.

-Having established that, let's get to the fun stuff.

-Shadow Milk Cookie is very physically and verbally affectionate. If you are around him it's likely he's touching you in some way. Whether that's him literally hanging off you like a baby monkey or just a hand on your arm, he likes to have a physical tether to you.

-Plenty of messy wet kisses all over your cute little face, he loves seeing you get all flustered and feeling your dough burn up from his barrage of affections.

-It's also very common for him to carry you around in various different styles. Over the shoulder, piggback, princess style, like a sack of potatoes... doesn't really matter. It's also a regular occurrence that you fall asleep as he floats around the spire of all knowledge. He doesn't need sleep, and he does not sleep often, but he likes holding you while you do so. It's proof of your trust in him, and he usually uses the time you are sleeping to be more genuinely affectionate. Soft words whispered in your ears bringing you sweet dreams as he runs his hands up and down your back, kissing the crown of your head with such love it would make a grown man blush.

-He calls you cute little nicknames, like shortcake or sweet thing. The most common, and his favorites, are doll/dolly and little star. (Little star is something he hums with such affection it makes you weak in the knees. You know he's feeling more adoring when he uses it.) Talks about how cute you are, how pretty you are, how desirable you are. How any cookie would be so lucky to have you -- too bad they could never compete with him!

-That being said, most of his affections are pretty surface-level stuff at the start of the relationship. At least, what you get to see. He has a hard time opening up to others, he's a very sensitive cookie deep down in his dough. It takes quite a while to get him out of his shell and start showing you who he is as himself.

-Who he is, is a very aching cookie. He lost so much, struggled with his own corruption, and still hasn't fully accepted it himself. He feels as though he has been betrayed and discarded by everything he once loved, it's no wonder he has a hard time showing you such ugly sides of himself.

-You warm him up, melt him slowly, and you get to see peaks of genuine love and adoration behind those heterochromatic eyes. He may never allow you to see all of him at once, but you do get to know him. If you continue to love him despite seeing the uglier side of things, there is a distinct shift in the way he showers you in affection.

-Initially, he's very showy with everything, his love is a spectacle for the two of you to watch. It's almost like he's put himself outside of the relationship rather than in it. After he opens up, it's quieter, more intimate. He's more involved in it, like it's less about showing you how much he loves you, and more about sharing that mutual feeling between the two of you.

-You didn't have much room to show him how much you cared for him, but now you do. He allows you to initiate physical affection and doesn't flinch away at the touch. He accepts your words of admiration for what they are, not questioning your intentions for any reason.

-Kisses are softer, more full of emotion. Less like he's drowning you and more like he's trying to swallow you up. Desperation to have you as close to him as possible can take him over quite frequently during make-out sessions, and they leave you breathless and fuzzy rather than burning and flustered.

-Now, you can't write Shadow Milk without acknowledging how fucking jealous he is all the time. Now, I believe it's less of a jealousy thing (though, that really is something that is frequent), and more of a possessive/protective thing.

-He doesn't get jealous of the average cookie, alright, not unless you show interest for whatever reason. They're not really a threat to him, and why would they be? He's secure enough to know that you wouldn't leave him for some random half-baked simpleton. HOWEVER, he DOES get jealous of the other beasts and especially Pure Vanilla Cookie.

-The other beasts aren't as powerful as him, but they're still powerful and cunning (some of them at least). Truly, on a level of divinity and ability to care for you, they are his closest competition. Even still, he only gets jealous if one of them seems to want to stake a claim on you, or you become too fascinated with one of them.

-If neither is the case, he highly encourages you to form relationships with them. They are cookies that, seemingly, he cares for. While they can be difficult to get along with, if you are someone Shadow Milk deems worth his time, you are someone they will also deem worth their time.

-Ah, I should also mention he gets... pouty about Black Sapphire and Candy Apple. He doesn't see either of them as a threat, so I couldn't say he's jealous... he just gets annoyed when you're being attentive to them when he's around. Black Sapphire is smart enough to set hard boundaries with you to start, for both of your sakes, but your relationship with him is very positive. You are Shadow Milk Cookies partner, after all, you're a very important Cookie and Black Sapphire has no reason to be unkind to you.

-Candy Apple Cookie on the other hand is the one who's jealous here. You find her positively adorable and her little crush on Shadow Milk is nothing but endearing in your eyes, but she very much is huffy about your relationship with him. Of course, she can't do anything to you, that would only turn against her in the end so she just pouts. You can win her over slowly, though, just by being sweet to her and comforting her when Shadow Milk rejects her once again.

-Your relationship with them seemingly pleases Shadow Milk, though you can't really tell if he's happy or not. Sometimes he seems pleased, other times he's pouty, so who really knows other than him.

-However, the cookie that really seriously gets under his skin the most is Pure Vanilla. He does everything in his power to keep the two of you as far away from one another as possible, but it's almost inevitable that you meet PV, especially when he becomes Truthless Recluse.

-Pure Vanilla is everything Shadow Milk is not. Kind, gentle, patient, soft-spoken, and of course truthful. He's very afraid you may meet PV and realize that you do not want to be with him anymore. You would rather have someone like Pure Vanilla Cookie to dote on you in a fashion that he cannot bring himself to do openly yet.

-Of course, you don't, but that doesn't stop the fear from seeping into his dough. The only way to ease him is by being patient and displaying your loyalty through and through. He won't really be calm until Pure Vanilla is take care of, but you can assure him that you won't be leaving him for his other half anytime soon.

-Circling back to his possessive and protective tendencies, Shadow Milk does see you as an object of his affection. He is fully aware you are your own cookie, you are not something he ever wishes to control entirely and remove autonomy from, but you are his. His to keep and love and protect.

-He's very obsessive about your well-being and happiness. If something hurts you (alive or not), it's gone, destroyed. He won't even make a show of it, it just disappears. If you are upset, he is there doing everything to make you feel better. Whatever you want, whatever you need! He's here for you, please rely on him (he needs you to rely on him).

-If you are out and about he keeps an eye on you, which you are aware of. It's rather obvious, so even if he doesn't tell you, you can feel him watching you. Ignoring it becomes easier with time, but if anything happens to you he wastes no time in popping up and taking care of whatever happens.

-This leads into my next headcanon (inspired by the ever-talented @rollingeevee go check them out!), he has a bite of sorts that he uses as a means of monitoring you. It's something he uses to pinpoint where you are at all times, even when he's not monitoring you actively. The bite acts as a connection between you and him, emotionally and physically tying the two of you together.

-You can feel what he feels through the bite, anger, sadness, joy, pretty much anything he feels you can feel. It also acts as a reminder to you that you should not stray too far from where he is, sending an uncomfortably heavy feeling through your dough. (This is a manifestation of his worry, and it only really happens when he notices you've gone somewhere a little too far from the safety of the spire).

-However, this goes both ways. He can also feel what you feel at the same intensity that you feel it. You can, likely less so, also tell where he is. There is a pull in the back of your mind from the magic telling you where to find him at all times, and it only lets go when you are in proximity of him. If you miss him, he feels the same heavy feeling in his dough reminding him that you would like him by your side.

-Now, finally, we have to address the topic of mortality. Shadow Milk is likely more aware than you ever will be of how mortal you really are. This is why he's so very protective and possessive of you, he doesn't want to lose you prematurely.

-However, if you are okay with it, he is completely fine with artificially extending your life span. In fact, he does it happily. He might even start doing it without asking if the topic hasn't been broached in a certain amount of time. He wants to spend as long as you'll allow him by your side, and if that means breaking a few rules of magic and cookie society then so be it. He's a god after all, he doesn't have to answer to anyone (other than the witches).

-Anyway, let's get to the shit you freaks are really here for. (Me, I'm freaks.)

-I don't really think sexual intimacy is something Shadow Milk desires all that much, but he more so likes it because it's... interesting? I'm sure he derives physical pleasure from sexual intercourse, but less so than the average cookie might. Most of his enjoyment comes from seeing you enjoy yourself.

-It goes without saying, but Shadow Milk Cookie is a freak. He's into pretty much anything under the sun (except maybe one thing...), and so long as you're down to try something he's happy to oblige you.

-He is a switch, but he leans dom most of the time, and you won't get him to sub early on in your relationship. That requires a bit too much trust for him, so he'll need time to be cool with giving you that kind of control over him. But he will bottom for you as your relationship progresses, and that's a whole different side to him.

-Lets start with him in a dominant role, though, since it's more common to get from him.

-Obviously, he's a tease, through and through. He loves to watch you squirm and react to the things he does. Tantalizingly light touches drawn over your dough, teeth grazing your soft body almost piercing but never quite getting deep enough, heated breath blown over your most sensitive spots but never relieving you with his mouth as you so desperately need.

-Truthfully he could spend another thousand years just tracing over you, committing each inch to memory until he's satisfied in knowing every inch of you. Unfortunately, (or fortunately), he's not nearly as patient in the bedroom as he is outside of it. Not with all of you on display for him, so trusting and open, ready for him to defile you. Oh, his sweet, sweet little dolly~

-Even with his impatience, his teasing does not stop. His hands continue to ghost over you, making sure you're still squirming even as he succumbs to his need to taste you.

-Oh, and tastes you he does. He doesn't have to subscribe to regular cookie physical limitations, so he somehow manages to swallow you whole. Jaw unhinging so he can get as much as he needs from you, tongue splitting itself to give you attention everywhere, and god is it long and dexterous. He can reach so very deep and it moves with such precision, it makes you cum embarrassingly fast.

-That is if he allows you to cum in the first place. He's a big fan of edging, which shouldn't be a surprise. He likes to get you so close, then deny you of your pleasure. Your whining and grumbling is the cutest thing on all of earthbread, don't you know? He can't help but edge you when you're so damn cute every time.

-Your pleasure is in his hands, and it requires such relinquishing of power and trust. In a weird way it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside, especially when you thank him over and over once he finally allows you to come undone after hours of teasing.

-Speaking of, he is a big fan of being praised for the work he does on you. Your moans and pleas are reward enough, but if you mumble out about how good you feel, how much you love him, how amazing he is he'll become drunk on your praise. Chasing after it with fervor, meaning he's going down on you with so much more excitement somehow.

-He's into blood (jam?) play. He likes leaving physical reminders of your relationship all over your body (yes, even ur vag/dick if you let him). With how sharp his teeth are, it's impossible for you not to bleed when he does so, and he does really like the sight of your jam. It's so pretty and so different from his own, another reminder of how different you are, and how much you trust him. (He'll lick it up and purr at the taste.)

-Bruises are also littered about your dough, his grip on you is tight, like you might slip away from him. The treatment is rough and harsh, but it feels so nice to be manhandled by him. The bruises are just nice little reminders of who you belong to. (He gets all proud when other cookies worry about them, like he's done something worthy of praise).

-He likes watching, he's very much a voyeur. Occasionally requests that you pleasure yourself for him so he can watch you struggle to get off, and he'll only help you out when you're near tears begging him.

-He prefers coming across you by himself, without having to request it. Or just feeling waves of pleasure through your bite. He'll watch you quietly fuck yourself without letting you know he's there. (Though, you most certainly can feel his eyes on you, that's what makes it so fun right?) Sometimes he'll join you after, and other and times he'll leave you be, it's 50/50 either way and regardless you still end up happy.

-If anyone else walks in on you when you're alone, he's very unpleasant. Accident or not they'll learn to be more aware of their surroundings next time.

-That doesn't mean he's against being watched though. Actually, he finds the idea of someone else seeing how well he treats you enticing (especially if it's someone like Pure Vanilla hehe). If you are together and someone walks in (or spots you in public), he won't stop. Instead, he'll lock eyes with them and smile big and wide, showing off his favorite little dolly for them.

-He's just so proud of you, and you're so very pretty beneath him, the whole world should get to see how you fall apart for him. He'll even make you look at them just to see how you fluster.

-If the offender tries to do anything other than watch, though, well... I really hope they didn't want to live for much longer. He's very much not a sharer, at all. The idea of anyone even thinking they could touch you and make you feel good both makes him laugh and want to tear them apart at once.

-He's very much into roleplaying and can get really into it. To the point, it loses the sexiness and is just the two of you playing around, which can be a bummer but is usually really fun. He likes things that lean into power dynamics but explicitly avoids god/king and worshipper/subject. A little too close to home for him, and would honestly be too boring and basic for him.

-He loves it when you dress up for him in pretty little outfits, be it lingerie or something more cutesy, he adores it regardless. Going out of your way to pretty up for him is a huge turn-on. He also loves it when you let him dress you up how he likes. Regardless of what you're wearing, it's not coming off the whole night. It will get ruined and he won't apologize for it. Besides, he can just replace it, right?

-Sex is more fun for him, but he can be intimate when he wants to be. Usually, when you're in control, he is at his most gentle. Yes, he's a brat when he bottoms and he'll fight you tooth and nail, but once you get him to submit he's the softest and sweetest you've ever seen him.

-He looks at you like you're the god, wide eyes taking in everything you do with such admiration it might make you crumble on the spot.

-He's much quieter, treating it less like a spectacle. Moans soft and squeaky, like he's not used to using his voice in such a way. He clings to you like a vice at each little movement, almost afraid you might disappear if he lets you go.

-Oh, and he praises you so much. 'So good', 'Thank you', 'You're perfect', and 'I love you' all tumble from him with such genuine gratitude.

-Being allowed to let his guard down and have you take control is cathartic for him, which is why it's so uncommon to have it happen. It's why he fights you for control so hard because this is an intimacy he isn't used to. It is hard for him to allow you to see him so weak, but you never use it against him. You're so very sweet and loving, and it makes him melt like butter in your grasp.

-If you have the bite I mentioned earlier, it only makes things so much more intense. Both of you can feel the raw emotion connecting the two of you, making the pleasure heighten further.

-In fact, when he gives you the bite it's the first time he allows you to top him. To connect you to him makes him very vulnerable, so he would naturally have to be in a vulnerable state already when he does so.

-It's unlike any of his other bites, it's far more painful when he initially bites down, but when his magic flows through it your body feels light and airy. The pleasurable feeling wrapping itself around your spine, and you feel what he's feeling. All that adoration pours into your being at once, and it's overwhelming to really feel how much he loves you.

#bunni's treats 🧁#x reader #shadow milk crk #crk #cr kingdom #cookie run kingdom #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk x reader #shadow milk cookie crk #put me down bro

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cybrasigilism · 2 days ago

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Hi, love your work! Could you write a virginity loss for the reader with thanos in the bathrooms of the games! Can y/n also be shy since it's their first time and have thanos be understanding and talk her through it +handjob ? Please and thank you!!

can’t lie i went a little insane when i saw this one 🤭🤭

Consideration (Thanos/Choi Su-bong [Player 230] X F! Reader HEADCANONS/DRABBLE)

character: thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

A/N: HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYYYY!! again with the point format, i feel much more at ease getting my ideas out this way, so please bear with me. my apologies if it’s hard to read because of this

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

➸ thanos, who couldn’t stop flirting with you throughout the games purely for the flustered reaction you gave almost on command.

➸ thanos, who upon finding out you were a virgin, found a way to get you alone in the bathrooms of the squid games, sneaking past the guards who surely didn’t care that he was in the wrong bathroom to begin with

➸ thanos, who had you pressed up against the cool, tiled wall of the bathroom stall as his lips crashed against yours. he wasted almost no time in sliding his cold hands up your shirt, sending a shockwave of goosebumps and pleasure up your skin

➸ thanos, who spent so much time kissing and sucking on your neck, you would have been shocked if you walked out of this unscathed by hickeys. each time his tongue passed over your sensitive skin, you saw stars

➸ thanos, who had you kneel between his legs as he pulled his dick out, guiding your hand in his up and down the length of it.

➸ thanos, who encouraged you through the entirety of the handjob. who told you “fuck, your hands are so soft”, “ngh, feels so good when you touch me like that baby..”, “you’re doing great, keep going just like that, yeah” between breathy moans

➸ thanos, who’s hands never ceased to roam your body when you decided to straddle him for the first time. he reassured you when the pressure of sinking down onto him became almost too much at points, wiping the tears from your face. of course, he let you sit there for as much as you needed to adjust.

“shit, y’re taking me so well, señorita.”

“hey, hey— you’re doing amazing so far, don’t cry!”

“fuck i can’t wait to make you feel good…”

➸ thanos, who eased you into the whole process of riding him. he was used to a faster paced, intense, more hot and heavy kind of session, but this time was different. he could see the anxiety in your eyes, he definitely knew how big of a deal this was for you, and he wanted to make it as special as possible— for these circumstances anyhow.

“that’s it, you’re practically a natural already. that’s my girl, fuck.”

➸ thanos, who moved your hips himself when you had gotten shy on him. you were insecure of how good of a job you were doing, but he wasn’t going to stand for that. you already know he was going to make sure you knew how good you were doing— or rather, how good you felt.

“holy hell, you’re so tight.. fuck i dunno how long i’ll last señorita”

“so good… so good and all f’ me”

“don’t s—top, god i don’t ever want you to stop”

“what’s wrong? you’re fucking me so good, keep going!”

➸ thanos, whose moans drove you wild when you eventually got the boost of confidence you needed to start riding him yourself. the sounds he was making made you tighten even more than you thought possible, which in turn made him cry out even more.

“shit, if you keep going like this ‘m gonna cum”

“fuck yes, fuck me like that.. you got it, oh god, you got it”

“need ya’ s’bad… i needed this so b—ad, fuck!”

➸ thanos, who wrapped his arms around you after you came. he pulled you into him, chests heaving in tandem as you both came down off this metaphorical high. he caressed the back of your head, the praises he sang for you continued flowing.

“that was fucking, wow. y’ did so good, señorita.”

“see? i knew you could do it, such a good girl for me.”

─────────────

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY GUYS!!

to the anon that requested this, i truly hope this is something like what you had in mind. and to everyone as a whole, i hope you enjoyed! i’ve been fighting off a mean writer’s block so i apologize if this isn’t my best work, but i’m just glad to put something out!

as usual, any advice/constructive criticism on how to improve my writing is appreciated and requested! have a fantastic day lovelies 💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @kvstjwonnie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga

#squid game 2 #squid game #fanfiction #squid game smut #squid game x reader #x reader smut #x reader fanfiction #player 230 #thanos x reader #player 230 x reader #choi su bong #thanos #imagines #headcanons

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taxi-cab-to-slowtown · 2 days ago

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I linked them into the reblog I made. But you're intentionally showing the panels that DON'T show the slit throat.

It is indeed a long slash just not all the way across it starts under his chin and moves about 3/4 across before Batman stopped him. I posted the other panels as well with references to where they happened. The slit throat definitely DID happen, the other things are mis/different interpretations of canon.

“Jason slit Tim’s throat” “Jason paralyzed Damian” “Jason left the duffel bag of heads on Bruce’s doorstep”

Jason blew up a building with a rocket launcher! Jason poisoned an entire prison population! Why do you feel the need to make up shit that he didn’t do when what he actually did is just as bonkers!

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nightscythe · 3 days ago

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light sides of the primarchs' relationships

happy valentine’s day!! this one is a bit happier than the 'dark sides' one for obvious reasons. as always just my opinion. if there is anything else you would like to see, let me know! enjoy!!

18+, it's not necessarily nsfw but suggestive themes. based on pre-heresy interpretations.

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the lion: the ultimate protector. you'd never feel unsafe in his presence. not just from legitimate threats, but.. waking up in the morning to find his arms around you, eyes watching you, lips ghosting your hair as though he would never be able to let you go. you're minding your own business reading a book or listening to others talk, and even though he's on the other side of the room he's still watching, calculating, making sure every single person near you is treating you well. if anyone did try anything? nice knowing them. you become his priority. his endless war. nothing will ever harm you again, except maybe him, on his endless war with making you feel every ounce of pleasure the universe can offer. ;)

fulgrim: is also your best friend, but not in the typical guy way. he's literally invested in every single one of your stories, he knows everyone's little secret, he comes back to you with tales he's learnt and weekly scandalous gossip. he knows everything about you. it's not even deliberate either, he's just so in sync with you that he could take a wild guess and still get it right. nights together can feature many things, all of which are thoroughly enjoyed due to his ability to perfect every single thing he does, but knowing there will never be a time you cannot talk to him about something? knowing he'd give you the best advice, more accurate responses, it's very comforting.

perty: you know everything with him is genuine. he would never lie to you, and that may be hard to swallow at first, but really? its a godsend. he'd not try to make you feel better by telling you a slight truth, he'd rather help you to move past it, work on the issue, etc. and that's why, a long way down the line when he does give you infrequent but honest words about his love for you, it means more than anything. there is not someone in the galaxy that you could trust more than this man, not with your life, your secrets, or your heart. and really, it would only ever get stronger over time.

the khan: enjoyably unpredictable. a man who values freedom always would be. he uses his instincts in everything and therefore it may not always be easy to know what he's going to do next. would encourage you to do things you may never have thought about, shows you new parts of the galaxy and introduces you to topics and concepts you knew nothing about before him. for that reason, he's an absolute storm when you are alone. completely unpredictable and completely dedicated to pleasing you. he's also just enjoyable to be around. he may be a touch arrogant and quick tempered, but he's witty, sarcastic, and excellent with his successful attempts to rile you up with teases.

leman: his love is very pure and built on a huge amount of respect. small gifts, tokens of appreciation, oh its all coming out with him. 'made me think of you' type thing and it's the most beautifully designed canvas that you know he wouldn't have just stumbled across. of course this is very different to how everyone else sees him, and no one would believe you. uses that to his advantage. loses all sense of practicality though when it comes to you and would probably show you 110% of his emotions even when he didn't intend to. his heart is in it, no half measures, you're his entire world now and as long as you will let him, he will love you for the rest of his life.

dorn: he is cold, but there is that burning fire that rages beneath. and when the cracks are fully formed? its impossible to ignore. he will not say I love you, but show you he loves you. there are never ups and downs, no maybes - its always a definite. if you need something? he gets it. you are worried about something? there is no need to worry for it any longer. he plans, he knows what to do to help you, he would never give reason to doubt that 1. he could protect you, and 2. his unwavering loyalty to you. does everything in his power to please you, particularly in the physical manner. when he's around, everything feels intense, and its oh so hard to ignore.

curze: he's trying. he is. you can see it each day. sometimes its not obvious, but he really does watch other people and try to imitate what they do to show you the love you deserve. because in his mind? you deserve it all. would he ever tell you that. no. he'd find it stupid. he'd rather keep it all to himself. but sometimes he bottles too much inside and it all comes out, all at once, every feeling he has. in that moment he just needs someone to hold him, reassure him, and be there to feel the love that follows. of course it isn't conventional, but even if he just taught you tarot, explained his twisted thoughts, tried to show you your fate - he's sharing a part of him that he'd not let another see.

sanguinius: effortlessly devoted, but not in the obsessive, overbearing way. you can see it in his eyes. he doesn't need to worship the ground you walk on or call in a choir to sing about you, you can just feel it. the small gestures. something so meaningful but so tiny that it almost snaps reality. helping you to braid your hair. trying his best to help you with something that he could have just ignored. listening to you with intent - not because he loves you so much he doesn't want to look away, but because he wants to hear you. listen to you. understand everything he can about you. it's so natural to him and warms you every time. something something doesn't care what time of the month it is either.

ferrus: always pushes you to be the best version of yourself. of course I have covered the bad side of this, but provided it's tamed, he understands there are limits, it can be rewarding. he will always reassure you that he doesn't need you to be perfect to love you, and would always encourage you to make decisions which benefited you - not anyone else. you'd also get to see his emotions, a rarity, knowing he only trusts so many to see him like that. a national accompaniment to this is that he pays a lot of attention to you. knows you extremely well. so if you ever argue, or don't talk for whatever reason.. be sure to engage the full ferrus apology - bedroom and all. crafts you really nice things too (of course)

angron: love is the only quiet he gets from pain. when you see him at ease, even for only a few moments, you can rest assured knowing that you were helping him. when he holds your hand, when he stands before you and defends you with his whole being, when he lets you fall into his arms and hesitantly wraps them around you. you know then that it's true. because he wouldn't do that for anyone else, and he couldn't physically do that if he did not have a moment of reprieve. and he knew as well that you gave him a chance, saw him for more than what everyone else did. that means more to him that anything.

rob: truly appreciates you. like, will show you, will make sure you know, will do anything in his power to make sure you're aware that the only reason he has an ounce of sanity left is because of you. you're the only person he will pause everything for, he will turn everything off to listen to you and your thoughts, he will actively seek your opinion on things he knows you would be happy to give it on, etctec. he just treats you like an equal. and considering who he is, that may be hard. but he does value you. yes he is pulled in every direction by all his duties but he knows where the limit is, and if either of you are reaching it, he will do what he can to make sure you feel happy and secure.

morty: it's those quiet moments that really stand out. when he lets his guard down for just a second, when he finally trusts you and knows that he would give his life for you until the very end. it wouldn't be easy for him to admit, and he probably never would admit it, but that one moment where he finally relaxes his shoulders and just lets you carry his burdens with him? it really does show a lot. and he would give everything for you. not even an ounce would be spared. it's easy to see it when he says it, that he loves you, even if he doesn't know the true meaning of the word. may not be conventional love, but to him, its everything.

magnus: there is not another who could love as much as he could. it's that simple. he's so utterly in love with you that he'd move heaven and earth just to see you smile. for a man with so many things going on, so many things to remember and do, he still keeps you at the very top of everything. finds little things for you that he'd think you like. recounts stories to see your smile. lays beside you and holds your hand whilst you tell him what's on your mind. it's routine for him, he does it without even thinking. nothing, and that is a hard nothing, will ever make him as happy as you do, and even when you're not around everyone hears your name, little snippets of his love for you, how much you mean to him, etc. he's so enamoured, so trusting, so in awe, that everything you do means something to him.

horus: incredibly intuitive and knows what you need before you do. has the tea and some fruit in his hands before you'd even mentioned you were thinking of having some. had someone prepare you a bath before you even said you were stressed. brought you some flowers when you were feeling down. cancels all his plans because you need someone with you. he does it to show he cares, knowing that sometimes he can be distant or busy, and it can be incredibly effective. also holds you incredibly tight. like your hand, when he embraces you, etcetc, it's like you're his security blanket in a way, which seems stupid because why does he need one, but actually he finds a lot of comfort in your presence.

lorgar: perfect if you want to be worshipped. that's how he'd treat you. and yes this has a dark side. but limited, not indulged or used for bad purposes, a good balance can be met. he's soft. his world would crumble without you. his exterior and how others view him is so different to what he's like with you that it seems wrong. but you are his everything. he would tell you it every day. he'd make sure you never forgot it. it may not be evidential to everyone, he's not proclaiming his love and devotion to anyone he sees, but to you its obvious. a silent prayer for your protection each day. for your good health. for anything he can do for you. and you'd know he'd burn worlds for you - just use that for the right purposes.

vulkan: a kind soul meant for love. he's not obsessed and devoted. he's not silent and brooding. he's what you think of when you have soulmate in mind. it seems to just come natural to him. he's your best friend, your lover, your everything - and he takes pride in that. he'd not need to burn worlds for you, he'd not watch you from the other side of the room without a world, he'd be beside you with his hand gently rested on you. it's just... normal? is that bad to say? but like the version of normal you always wanted, the normal in romance novels which warped our perceptions of relationships. you know. cute.

corax: incredibly loyal. quietly loving you from a distance until he's with you, then he's far more passionate and open. he's not one to have elaborate gestures done in your name, he probably wouldn't even do more than speak in a normal tone whenever others are around. but you know he's there. a brush of your hand with his when you look uncomfortable or worried. a glance in your direction every so often if you are separated. he'd always find his way back to you though, and you always know he's there at your side. and yes, very passionate when it's just you two, so much so you'd have first doubted it was the same person. he just saves it all for you. especially few things he's picked up along the way he thinks you may enjoy.

alpharius: you could never doubt his love. he'd never let you. it's so obvious that it's what makes telling him apart so simple. he just can't deny it when he's around you, he can't resist it at all. love is in everything he does. his touches as he walks past. his names for you. his insistence on always having you in his arms. it can be endearing. it is nice knowing that you are so loved, never a doubt in your mind that he does care. and if you do doubt him? he will change that. you won't ever doubt him again. you don't ever need to worry about his love for you, it won't change. he'll never stop loving you.

˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗

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fadelbison · 1 day ago

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why u like fadelstyle so much? the show ended and i still don't feel like theres love between them, same with all jd couples they don't seem like a couple at all

oh man how to answer this in a way that will do fadelstyle justice? I think @secriden and @bentnotbroken1fanfiction have much better, very in depth analysis of them as a pair and their wonderful dynamic.

but for me personally? simply, it's a type of love that I'm looking for. my personality is very similar to fadel's, the way style always goes out of his way to understand him and push back against all of fadels attempts to push him away - it really warms my heart.

they see each other, do you understand? style guesses that fadel could be a hitman, even if it was just a joke - style always saw him for who fadel is and fadel has been in wanting for that devotion, fadel has been aching to just be held and be able to fall apart - when fadel goes to prison style keeps his dream alive. fadel finally found someone who can understand how much he's had to give, how much he's always had to put himself second, someone who appreciates fully when fadel does it for him - I think style is the only person who's ever even attempted to feel the extent of fadel's sacrifice let alone tell him that he's deserving of the same and then go out and do it.

joongdunk have so subliminally portrayed that growing trust between them, that lived through all of fadel's anger at being betrayed, all of style's fear of fadel's dangerous life. they've just done so well to show what it means to slowly make space for each other, to fall in love through a gradual understanding of each other, I really felt that no matter what happened between them no matter how angry they were or how much distance there was between them every episode fadel and style loved each other more than the last.

fadel and style's romance is one of my favorite couple dynamics period I'm sorry you didn't feel it and even though we are allowed to interpret shows differently and like different things its a pity that I have no way to make you experience the beauty with which they touched my heart.

#the heart killers #fadelstyle #nani answers

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psychemochanight · 2 days ago

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I usually don't talk too much about it cuz it's kinda an awful trope to be honest, but, I was seeing this so much lately, and I just can't with this-

The amount of people who think Dick has had many partners and is a playboy when many of the women (and some men) they use as examples are women who have kissed or touched him WITHOUT his consent is... It's horrible.

I don't know why people think it's normal or a "reward" that so many people have crossed Dick's boundaries just because they tend to portray these people as visually attractive.

Today I just saw a compilation of this kind of situations, and there were 35 photos, and many more were missing. Each image was more uncomfortable than the last.

TW: I'll post some of the comic panels on this topic, they get progressively more uncomfortable, it's nothing that explicit, but still.

In the photos you can see the @ of the account where I got the panels from.

There are many more (like Catalina or Liu panels), that are even more explicit situations, but I think this gets the point across.

I saw people trying to justify Dick being a playboy by saying that maybe he hypersexualizes himself in response to trauma (a real response, it can happen), but this would make more sense if the authors did it on purpose and with that intention, but that is not the case. They don't sexualize Dick's character to give depth to his trauma, they barely even talk about it AT ALL.

So that definitely doesn't excuse it, at least not as a justification from the authors, now if they use it as HC it makes more sense, but only thanks to the fans' interpretation. If it were entirely up to the authors, there is no reason for Dick to be sexualized, not beyond fanservice.

And I hate it.

It's very different to create a sexy character than to sexualize them to the point of objectification.

#dick grayson #nightwing #just my thoughts about dick grayson #let my boy alone

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elfgrove · 2 days ago

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These are wonderful fics. Adding a couple more of my personal favorites hopefully for OP as well as followers.

⭐️ Growing Old with You by LilliputianDuckling (mostly Teen, one Explicit) 2022 - 110,554 words - Complete

A 12 part series of fics following Connor Luthor and Tim Drake through a lifetime together from childhood best friends to married. this is one of those delightful AUs where both boys are raised as the scions of rich families and get into super hero work. Connor is raised by Lex as his son and loved and Tim is a good guy but a little more flexible due to early exposure to Lex. Most everyone has complex depth in their decisions and motivations with supervillain parents, bad parents, secret identities, and etc.

The Loveless Cat by PeridotLion45 (Teen) 2020 - 16K words - Complete

For a long time, Tim was markless, his skin free of any design or name that would show that someone, someday would love him. He gave up on finding anyone who would before he turned thirteen. Now, in his late teens, he had a name that people recognised, even revered. He had a mom in the form of his mentor. He had a mark.

I have soft spot for "Tim Drake as Catlad/Stray" and soulmate fics and this is great oneshot combo of both tropes.

Slow Down by RoosjeM (Not Rated) 2024 - 35K words- Completed

After getting hit by Scarecrow's latest toxin Tim realises that Gotham was slowly draining all his sanity. Knowing that if he stays longer he would truly lose his mind, Tim wonders if he should leave Gotham. In true Two Face fashion, Tim flipped a coin. Heads, Tim would stick around Gotham and nothing would change. Tails, Tim would leave Gotham and start over. Meanwhile the Bats are trying to figure out a way to make up to Tim after all that had happened. “Are you sure about this?” “I can’t do this anymore, Tam.” Tim admitted. “Can you at least tell me where you’re going?” “No.” “Damn Tim.” Tam cursed, “I mean, good for you, get some well deserved rest. When are you coming back?” Tim avoided Tam’s gaze. “You are coming back, right?” “There is no plan for that for now.” Tim admitted.

Tim-centric fic. Angst with a happy ending. This one's a bit rough in it's interpretation of a few of the the Bats, but it's a pretty cathartic read for having Tim stop and prioritize self care and healing before finding his way back to his loved ones and healing those relationships.

And Now I'm Covered in the Colors, Pulled Apart at the Seams by Sohotthateveryonedied (Gen) 2020 - 17K words - Complete

Alternate universe in which we gather soul strings as we fall in love, with different colors representing the different kinds of love you experience over time. Tim has loved and lost so many times over the years that, as rare as it is to find someone who actually loves him back, his strings are mangled like barbed wire. What's the point of loving if it only ends in heartache? (Or: Tim’s experience with love, a story told in snapshots.)

Another soulmate fic with a chunk of self-deprecating Tim needs hugs.

TimKon Fic Recs Part 1.

So I mentioned in a reply to @oneswordstyle that I had a ton of TimKon fic recs and I was about to spam them with a million comments in the replies, but then I figured it was probably easier to do in a post. So here it goes. It also got too long so I split it into 2 parts.

Scions by Winterlive (Explicit) 2008 - 63K words - Complete

Tim Wayne, adopted son of Gotham mogul and secret vigilante Bruce Wayne, shows every sign of being his father's true successor - by day, and by night. Tim sets his sights on a valuable Metropolis lab for merger with Wayne Biotech, and all that stands in his way is the city's own rising star: Conner Luthor.

Note: I really love when characters get to grow up. I think Tim was a really fun teen to read about, and this fic explores him as a young business man and true heir to the Wayne legacy. Kon is Luthor’s son and prodigy in this, and it makes them interesting foils.

⭐️ call me cute and feed me sugar by suzukiblu (Teen) 2024 - 80K words - Ongoing

Tim Drake had absolutely no intentions of ever becoming anyone's sugar daddy when he met Superboy. This would have worked out better for him if Superboy had ever had an actual legal identity or an actual legal guardian or just . . . literally anything whatsoever in life. Ever. At all.

Just a bank account, even.

Note: Kon is fresh outta the test tube in this one, and despite the author’s facetious use of the word “sugar daddy” this is actually really sweet. Make sure to drop a comment and let the author know we’re excited for the next chapter!

Baby, Talk Me Down (Take Me Out) by sage (Teen) 2020 - 90K words - hiatus

Tim has been working too hard lately, and everyone is starting to notice. Bruce takes it upon himself to help Tim do some self-care and ships Tim off to the Kent farm for the summer, forcing him to take a well-earned vacation. Naturally, things get out of hand.

Note: This fic is on hiatus, so make sure to stop by and leave an encouraging comment, so we can get the ending this sweet story deserves. Tim finally gets a minute to breathe and really process all that’s been happening. He also gets to experience small town life but also he’s Tim so he gets himself into trouble. I find in a lot of fics, Kon always feels out of place or like he doesn’t quite belong, but he’s very settled and has really taken the time to learn who he is in this one, which I appreciated very much.

The Classic Shenanigans of Two Idiot Boys in Love by MashpotatoeQueen (Teen) 2021 - 94K words - Complete

In which the papers get hold of the fact that Timothy Drake-Wayne is dating another boy, Kon is all chill, Tim is no chill at all, the internet is flipping out, and Dick Grayson is quite possibly the greatest big brother of all time.

Note: An attempt to explore the public side of their relationship, a story told in vignettes.

⭐️ Stars Over Gotham by madaliz (Explicit) 2025 - 170K words - ongoing

Kon is tasked by the Planet to write the defining piece on Gotham City (no pressure). As he learns more about the city's first family and its criminal underbelly, he finds himself increasingly entangled with the mob and the vigilantes he's supposed to keep away from.

A story about how Kon and Tim grapple with their family legacies, fall in love, and team up to foil a conspiracy to ruin Gotham's hard earned order.

Note: Adults! Self-assured Kon! A really interesting world in which the Bats and the JL are completely separate and do not mingle. They are aware of each other but maintain strict rules. When Kon goes to Gotham in his civilian identity as a reporter his and Tim’s game of cat and mouse quickly turns into a Romeo and Juliet situation and I AM OBSESSED. There’s only 3 chapters left and I love this fic so much I’m dreading saying goodbye to it. Make sure to leave a comment to let the author know!

I’m alone here, I think by unluckyloki (Teen) 2019 - 93K words - Complete

Superboy is fighting robots in San Francisco and remembers something that wasn't. There's a new priest in the Naxos temple appointed by Dream of the Endless. Kon is missing something. Tim is missing everything. One day Krypto practically drags Superboy to a remote island in Europe and there's a dark haired guy smiling at Kon like he knows him.

Maybe he does.

Note: I’m not usually a fan of fics set in the cartoon Young Justice world, but this one is really special. The prose is exquisite, and it feels like reading an epic poem. Even though it’s kind of in the blurb it took me way too long to realize it was a Sandman crossover, but honestly you don’t really have to know anything about that. I’m also not usually a fan of ‘Tim Drake has magic AUs’ but again, I can read anything if it’s executed well, and this writer executes basically everything perfectly.

I Want it That Way (1990s Tim/Kon) by WynterSky (Series) - 140K words - Complete

On a field trip, Robin has a close encounter with the newest super in Metropolis, only to discover the hard way that Superboy secretly works for Lex Luthor. They agree to work together on a plan to free Superboy from Luthor’s hold, but Robin isn’t sure how far he can trust him—and his developing feelings only make things more complicated.

Note: Series says “not complete” but the series currently has 3 fics, which are all complete. Set int he 90s, which I think is perfect for superheroes. A lot of the mythos collapses with modern day technology. Fresh outta the test tube Kon is sort of held hostage by Lex Luthor, and young Tim realizes this and decides to save him. The 90’s setting is what MAKES this series something truly special.

buy back the secrets by sundiscus (Teen) 2024 - 90K words - Ongoing

He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.”

Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy.

Note: 1 chapter left! Don’t forget to leave a comment so we can let the author know how much we’re anticipating the last chapter. This is another love-square AU, I can’t help myself. In this one, they’re both skewed a bit younger, but they deal with the more heavy side of vigilantism.

Trust fall by Ididloveyou_once (Mature) 2021 - 22K words - Complete

‘Drake?’

Tim felt like he was choking. His throat was tight. He couldn’t swallow.

‘Damian?’ He managed.

Damian was… here. At Kent Farm. Dressed in the too-big Batman pajamas that Dick had bought him last Christmas as a joke. And- And-

Tim was wearing Kon’s t-shirt and his hair was messy and his lips were swollen and- He wasn’t ready for this- He wasn’t- He couldn’t-

How had he been so stupid?

Or: Tim comes out to Damian and prepares for the entire family to know by morning. It just so happens that Damian can keep a secret. Multiple, actually.

Note: Not usually a fan of Damian/Jon but I think this fic handles it well and is more of a puppy-crush than anything. This is a coming-out fic that deals in all those tropes, and I think handles it really well. Again, I’m not usually into the more fanon interpretation of Tim as a timid, neglected, anxiety-ridden wet cat, but this fic explores some insecurities without, I feel, straying too far from his actual characterization.

⭐️ First Kontact by Chiyana

Two years after a disastrous first encounter with an alien entity called Necros, Captain Tim Drake is given his first mission back in the field. The simple six-month exploration mission babysitting a group of LexCorp researchers goes abruptly downhill upon the discovery of a missing colony ship, landing Tim directly back into the horror that took him out of the field in the first place and leading him to his second first encounter with an alien race. Usually he's all for over-achieving, but even he finds this to be a bit excessive.

At least this time one of the aliens is more interested in him alive than dead.

Note: This may be my favorite fic I’ve ever read, like ever. This is a sci-fi au, where Tim is a captain, and the Kryptonians are space refugees after the destruction of their planet. The WORLD BUILDING is exquisite. I absolutely love Bart in this world. Also, despite the new world building, the explanation for Kon’s ostracism from the House of El is fantastic. This is one of those stories that has dug into my brain. Although, please mind the tags, it can be intense.

What happens in Vegas by Ididloveyou_once (Mature) 2022 - 92K words - Complete

57 missed calls.

Bart_ahhh tagged you and one other in a post

The Gazette (4 hours ago)

Bruce Wayne’s youngest eligible bachelor is off the market: Timothy Drake-Wayne eloped in Vegas [EXCLUSIVE pictures]

63 unread messag-

Tim jolted upright. His eyes scanned over the headline again. Timothy Drake-Wayne eloped… Timothy Drake-Wayne what?

And with who?

Or: Tim and Conner accidentally get married in Vegas and decide to stay that way until they can get quietly divorced. It’s simple. Except the Bats are detectives and the press is relentless and oh, Tim is hopelessly in love with his best frie- husband?

Note: classic accidentally married first, then fall in love. Obsessed with this fic, and the author has indicated it’s supposed to be a series, so I canNOT wait to see where this AU goes. Honestly Cassie is the most relatable person in this fic, because she totally believes that these two idiots would do something so ridiculous but what she can’t believe is the audacity to get spontaneously married on her birthday.

#timkon #fanfic

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ofcrowsanddragons · 3 days ago

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Wakes up from a dead sleep to write:

What if Teia knew about Illario all along?

Everybody treats Teia like she's a Pollyanna, somebody that you try so hard to hide your darkness around because she believes so strongly that the Crows are family. This is a woman who calls Catarina "Nonna" and lives, when not even her grandchildren get that privilege.

This is a woman who everyone goes to great lengths to show the best possible interpretation of the Crows to, because she believes in them. She believes in each one of them, and she treats them like family! (Her enemies, she'll tear the hearts from. Traitors too.) To her, the darkest parts of the Crow houses might not as well exist, and like a torch in the night, she'll have you trying to excise those hidden pieces of your house before they she can be disappointed by them. Because she doesn't know, and she can't know.

She was a street kid.

She's an elf.

She made her name by becoming the blade between the ribs of cruel men.

She knows.

By Viago's own admission in Eight Little Talons, people like Andarateia Cantori don't become Talons. Can you imagine what she had to do to get where she is? She has a vision, and she's going to drag the Crows kicking and screaming into whatever dystopian vision of the future she believes that they should aspire to. She knows how to play the game to make people do what she wants.

Which brings me to the pure (like a fire is purifying) and oblivious reputation that she potentially has among the Crows. She won't see betrayal coming, maybe, but on the other hand no one is really willing to betray her.

But... what if she does see it coming?

She's keeping a close eye on Illario from the time that she's planning Catarina's funeral, and at a certain point, she had people following him. Sure, Illario is useless, probably nowhere to be found when she needs him. She's the one who draws the connection between Illario acting the same when he had just conspired to murder Lucanis and when he had just conspired to disappear Catarina (these were obviously phrased differently in-game).

She had a lot of opportunities to talk to him, however much he was avoiding her.

What if she knew? Or at least suspected?

What if she weighted so many of those conversations... planted suggestions... spent countless hours planting the seeds to tear the heart out of the person responsible for the deaths of so many Crows in her house on the day Catarina was abducted?

More to the point, what if those manipulations were planted primarily so that when Illario was clearly defeated, in the forgiveness ending he actually did take the hand that Lucanis extended in the end?

Would that be suitably self-absorbed for you?

#teia & illario #andarateia cantori #teia cantori #antivan crows #illario dellamorte #lucanis dellamorte #house dellamorte #veilguard meta #character meta #crow thoughts #datv #veilguard spoilers #veilguard #da: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #tevinter nights #eight little talons #catarina dellamorte #sea of blood

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m1ckeyb3rry · 2 days ago

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Synopsis: Sunday is your mirror, as you are his — or, how meeting him spells your doom, just like losing you spells his.

HSR Masterlist

Pairing: Sunday x Reader

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warnings: female reader, second person in some parts and third person sunday pov in others, religious themes because…it’s sunday…, not canon compliant because idk wtf happened in penacony and i don’t feel like figuring it out, not lore compliant either because i’m #toocool for that, ooc because i wanted to make sunday a freak, major character death but not really on screen just mentioned/implied, unreliable narrators, halovians are Very Different (both from their canon depictions and from humans in general), robin mentioned but she’s also probs ooc idfk i’ve never written for honkai star rail and i’ve played for like a month tops, sunday is a d1 piner, sunday loses it, sunday crashes out, weird narrative structure, very nonsensical, in terms of endings we have no endings (it’s like open to interpretation ig), m1ckeyb3rry’s monthly drop of MID

A/N: i wrote this really quickly for my beloved illu’s birthday!! unfortunately i didn’t get the idea until like two days after the date itself so it’s a bit late LMAOO also it sucks but. it has SUNDAY !! my first foray into the hsr verse…hehe…anyways illu i could go on about how much i appreciate you and how glad i am that we’re friends but for the sake of conciseness i shall leave it at HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY GOAT @milksnake-tea I LOOK FORWARD TO ANOTHER YEAR OF CRASHING OUT TOGETHER 🙂‍↕️💖 LOVE AND KISSES I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS A BIT!!!

There is a ghost waiting for him in the confessional booth. Velvet curtains cover the latticed wood, obscuring its contents from his view, but the effect comes to nothing. He knows she’s there, he always does, he can feel her presence. It’s a chill seeping into his bones as he kneels — he doesn’t need to kneel, of course he doesn’t need to, but it’s a habit he’s yet unwilling to break — and clasps his hands together. It’s a supplication for something, but it isn’t until his mouth is opening of its own volition, his wings fluttering in alarm and his eyes widening as the words are wrenched from his lips, that he realizes what he’s begging for.

“Please,” he whispers. His voice echoes in the empty room, mocking him, teasing him. Please. Please. What right does he have to ask her anything? He’s sure that’s what she’s thinking. He’s sure she’s laughing in that odd way of hers, and his throat constricts at the image. “Please—”

Forgive me? It reverberates in his mind, that fragment of a thought, jagged at the edges, sharp like a blade and twice as cruel. Isn’t that it? Forgive me. Forgive me. Please, forgive me.

“Condemn me,” he says instead, and then he’s struck by a burst of anger, hot and unyielding and entirely at odds with the weight of his tongue in his mouth, which is all leaden and unwieldy and clumsy and despicable. “Condemn me or forgive me or what have you!”

He waits, as he always does. One, two, three. He counts on his fingers, an invisible metronome ticking in his mind, mechanical and perfect in rhythm, keeping time for his vigil. Four, five, six. The curtain flutters in a phantom breeze, and for a second he can pretend that he sees a flash of bright in the darkness of the booth, a dancing shade like a glittering iris peering back at him. Seven, eight, nine. He doesn’t care what she says. He doesn’t care about any of it. As long as she says something, it’s fine. Condemn me. Forgive me. He’s not sure which he would prefer at this point.

Ten.

The ghost is silent.

The first time you met Sunday, it was raining. Everything about him was limp in the storm — his clothes, the fabric clinging to his slender frame; his hair, spilling onto his pale brow and trailing down his mannequin-straight back; even his wings, which drooped miserably towards his shoulders, the preened feathers translucent at the edges from dampness.

When he turned to glance at you, you expected his demeanor to shimmer with the famous benevolence of his family. Sunday Oak, the heir, the young lord; certainly there would be a kindness to him, a gentleness permeating throughout the very essence of his being. Certainly he had been born a saint, anointed in the waters of his mother’s womb before he could even draw breath, incapable of humanity’s many shortcomings and fallacies. Certainly these things were true, and that was why it frightened you all the more when, for one singular moment, his impassive mien crumpled into a glare, as baleful as it was captivating.

His eyes were a sharp, canny gold, feline in both shape and shrewdness, framed by lashes clumped together with wet. They were terrible in the way of a dying star, that peculiar brand of horror so beautiful that it was impossible to look away, and indeed you stood transfixed until he cleared his throat and arranged his face into a polite smile.

“I wasn’t aware we had visitors today,” he said. He spoke carefully, perfunctorily, reading from a script he must’ve memorized long ago. You stiffened, for although he had not given you any reason to think it, you were suddenly very certain that you were not supposed to see him like this, his fingers curling over the slick rail of his balcony, his dark abdominal wings folded tightly over his stomach and his halo dull in whatever light struggled through the clouded sky.

“I was just leaving,” you said. “I must have made a wrong turn. I apologize for disturbing you, sir.”

“You needn’t apologize,” he said, and there he was, the man who you had expected: Sunday, the scion of the Oak Family. Gracious Sunday; magnanimous Sunday; Sunday the prince and Sunday the saint. He was so finely constructed it made you wince, his blinding delicacy and keen refinement eerie, preternatural. A baser instinct of yours told you to run, reminding you of a time when those of his kind ruled over humanity with impunity, pleading with you to save yourself before it was too late.

You bit back your fear so hard that blood exploded over your palate, salty and sweet in turn, viscous as you swallowed it back and offered him a smile. He did not return it in full, but the corners of his mouth curled up slightly. That should’ve been soothing, but it only served to worsen the electric anxiety running through your veins.

“I shall call my sister and tell her to fetch you,” he said. “I would hate for you to find the Oaks remiss in our hospitality. I am sincerely sorry that you were not given an escort earlier.”

There were so many things you could say to him. I ran. Does that make me remiss? I’m the one who ran from them. You could reassure him, promise him that you would be alright on your own and there was no need for Robin to come. You could do any of these things, yet you were frozen like an insect in the amber of his stare, and so you did not.

“Thank you,” you said, bowing slightly, lowering your eyes to his leather shoes in a valiant attempt to free yourself, “for your generosity.”

“Do you think it’s possible for people to forgive themselves?” he asks his sister. They’re sitting in the parlor, porcelain teacups in their hands, pinkie fingers raised primly in the air. His sister’s cup is chipped at the base, but every time he tries to throw it away, she pitches a fit, which is so uncharacteristic of her that it renders him speechless. This one is special, she insists. There’s doves painted on it. See?

It isn’t special, there’s countless others exactly like it, but he caves to her whims far too easily, as he always does. He’s prone to it, after all; she wants for things so rarely as it is, which means denying her few requests when she makes them is nigh-impossible. So he allows her to keep the ruined cup, on the condition that in his presence, she holds it in her left hand, for he never wants to see the blemish again.

“I’m not sure,” she says. Her voice is always dreamy, but as of late there’s been a tangible sadness to it. He’s asked her what’s troubling her countless times, but his every attempt is met with a shake of her head and a solemn oath that it’s nothing. “Maybe.”

“I don’t think that it is,” he says. “At least not at first. You can’t forgive yourself before you’re forgiven by anyone else.”

“If you were already so sure of the answer, brother,” she says, cocking her head at him, “then why did you ask?”

“Hm?” he says, furrowing his brow. She takes a sip of her tea, and maybe it’s the angle or maybe it’s a trick of the light, but he swears that that dammed chip is taunting him, smarting like a peeled-off scab.

“It’s a strange practice of yours,” his sister says, batting her eyes at him in a way that makes him feel shrunken and tiny, as if she knows everything and he knows nothing, although by all rights it’s the other way around.

“What do you mean by that?” he presses, voice coming out harsher than he’d like. Cringing, he sets his teacup down and folds his hands in his lap. “My apologies, sister. I — I did not mean to speak to you in that way.”

She raises her drink to her lips, smiling at him over the dove-painted rim, and says nothing more.

Robin Oak was like nightshade, the most beautiful flower you had ever seen and, incidentally, the most poisonous. She was lilac where Sunday was silver and sapphire where he was gold, but although the edges of her halo and her face were rounder than her brother’s, as malleable as he was rigid, she was no softer than he. Perhaps she was even colder for it, all the more deadly, unassuming and quiet, poised to strike with a warbling song and a tittering giggle.

“Hello,” she said, and although the two of you were ostensibly having a normal conversation, she still talked like there was a song in her voice, her cadence lyrical and amused. “We’ve been looking for you for a while.”

“I didn’t go very far,” you said, following after her as she navigated the hallways without hesitation.

“Of course not,” she agreed. “But who would’ve thought you’d end up in Sunday’s room?”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” you said, cheeks heating up at the sly implication. “I sincerely thought I had happened upon some study or restroom where I might recuperate.”

“He does keep his surroundings austere,” she said. “I’ve tried to convince him to hang up paintings or photographs, but he refuses. He’s like that.”

“I see,” you said, as neutrally as possible. Robin must’ve sensed your disinterest, for with a soft, breathy, chuckle, she steered the conversation away from her brother and to another subject entirely.

“Ah, you mentioned recuperation? Do parties tire you, too?” she said, and maybe it was manipulation or maybe it was genuine kindness, but it disarmed you all the same. Bashfully, you nodded, your shoulders hunching in on themselves involuntarily as you continued down the corridor.

“They are exhausting. I can never handle them for more than a few minutes at a time,” you confessed. She wrapped an arm around your torso, a companionable vice of a grip, and although you shouldn’t have been, you were surprised to feel that her skin was blazing to the touch.

“Nor can I,” she said. “There’s a commonality. Let’s be friends.”

It was a command, not a request. You knew better than to believe that Robin Oak would request anything; the world was at her feet, the universe shifting so that her words became truth, so why would she bother with questions and hesitance the way the rest of you did? She was no more human than Sunday. She was even less, only just as good at pretending, at painting on a doll-like mask to disguise her lies.

“Well, then it is a pleasure to be your friend,” you said.

“Don’t talk like that,” she protested.

“Like what?” you said.

“Like I’m somebody important, or like I have a status worthy of only the highest respect,” she said.

“But you do,” you said. She nudged you in the side with some measure of eagerness.

“No, no, forget about that,” she said. “I’m just like you, okay?”

“Okay,” you said, even though that could not be further from the truth, even though she could not be further from you.

“I swear on truth,” he says to the congregation, the beige churchgoers in their beige robes with adoration sparkling in their devoted eyes. “I swear on the calendar. I swear on words. I swear on values. I swear on rules. I swear on meaning. I swear on—”

A chill rushes down his spine, icy fingers grabbing onto the roots of his wings and yanking. He hisses under his breath, prayers of rebuke and protection, nails digging into his palms as he chants furiously, lips moving too fast for the gatherers to understand what he is doing.

Anxious murmurs arise like the songs of a choir the longer and longer he is frozen. Somebody coughs. A child whines audibly. He continues his chanting.

Ena, the Order; Xipe, the Harmony; defend me in this tribulation. Curse this evil, bind its spirit and banish it to whence it came. I swear on truth, I swear on the calendar, I swear on words, I swear on values, I swear on rules, I swear on meaning, I swear on—

The hair by the nape of his neck is ruffled, and then the sensation vanishes and he is left alone once more. He is grateful for only a moment before he mourns her absence with a sudden savagery that takes even himself by surprise. It’s a contradiction, but she is a contradiction, so it’s fitting. He could never understand her before, so why should it be different now?

Clearing his throat and subtly adjusting his lapels, he raises his hands to silence the throngs of worshippers. They do his bidding at once, and he closes his eyes so that he does not have to see their naïveté at this final part, so that he is speaking to himself and the ghost alone — because nobody else matters in the end.

“I swear,” he says, his heart beating faster and faster until it is almost bursting from his chest and pounding in his skull, “on human dignity.”

What do Halovians know of human dignity?

“Nothing,” he says, responding to the unasked question as he turns away from the others, away from their applause and their grins. His wings cover his eyes and his hands cover his ears as he leaves the cavernous hall, the thunder of laudation fading and fading, replaced with nothing but a whistling, lonely emptiness. “They know nothing.”

He pauses, his eyes darting around surreptitiously. Then, when he is sure he is alone, he continues, under his breath so that no one can hear even if they try very hard to.

“I know nothing.”

He is sure of this much, at least.

On Halovians:

They abide by a so-called “divine creed” which they refuse to divulge to outsiders. However, they maintain that if they break these secretive laws, they are punished severely in what amounts to a foreshortened process of decay. Their holiness and altruism is, thus, not a choice but a compulsion; the one sin they are permitted is lying, and many will spin tall tales as a form of indulgence.

They are comparable in ability to the sirens from Lucyke — indeed, many researchers believe the species share a common ancestor and are one of many examples of divergent evolution found throughout the cosmos. They are nonthreatening when approached, capable of rational thought and intelligent speech, and have advanced societies with defined familial structures; hence, they are classified as a Level 0 Intelligent Species.

His halo is cracking. He doesn’t know when it began, or perhaps it’s more accurate to say he doesn’t want to know, but regardless it’s happening. The burnished gold, once a plain, gleaming expanse, is now marred by thin, unmistakeable fissures in the shape of spiderwebs. At first, he can only stare at his reflection in abject horror, but then he’s stuffing his fist in his mouth and screaming.

What will people think? When they see it, they will know what he has done. It’s tainting him. It’s above him and behind him and all around and he can’t escape, he can’t do anything, his halo is cracking and he’s screaming and she’s there again.

“Stop it,” he snaps. “Stop coming back. If you’re only here to torment me, then — then stop it!”

Is she laughing? She must be. She always laughs at him, always finds him so curious. An oddity. A Halovian. He’s not like her, she’s fond of reminding him, he’s different. He’s born for the Harmony and the sky. He’s born for a purpose greater than hers, with black wings and a bright halo and a tongue made to lie.

“Don’t leave,” he says when she begins to withdraw. “Hey. Hey. Don’t leave — don’t leave me — I can’t — don’t!”

Her absence is like a hole carved into his stomach daily anew, and if his wings weren’t losing their feathers so rapidly, he’d fold them over the gaping wound in an attempt to disguise it, to transform it, to hold himself together until he can once again become whole in earnest.

It’s pitiful. He’s pitiful. He longs for a ghost who he despises, a ghost of his own making, a ghost who is pulling apart his halo and his wings and his sanity alike. She is ruining him and he is powerless to stop her; somewhere deep inside of him, he’s not sure if he even wants to. This is what he’s owed. This is what he deserves. No matter how much he begs, she will not forgive him; no matter how much he prays, he will not forgive himself.

This time when he screams, he does not bother with muffling it.

You were certain that, in the pools of her mind, in places unknowable and unreachable, Robin believed that she loved you. She repeated that lie so often that she fooled everyone, even herself — everyone, of course, but you. You knew the truth. You knew that she never had, that she never would, that she never could.

“This is my very best friend in the entire universe,” she’d say, holding your palm against her heart. “I love her.”

She carried it like a trophy or a weapon, that meaningless phrase. I love her. Lilac instead of silver. Sapphire instead of gold. I am not a Halovian. That was what she really wanted to say. That was what you really meant to her. I am human, too. Treat me like I am human. Talk to me like I am human. Love me like I am human.

I am human.

His sister is worrying about him. He wishes he could allay her concerns like he always does, wishes he could promise that it’s nothing, that he’s fine, but whenever he tries, he can’t. It sticks in his throat, and he’s left to stare at her miserably, helplessly.

“If you need anything…” she murmurs, voice trailing off into nothingness as she pretends like she’s not looking at his halo, which is on the verge of collapse, or at his wings, which are approaching a skeletal state. “Maybe you should stay home today. Someone else can pray.”

“No,” he says. He has to do it. If he doesn’t, then he has nothing left — which is the truth, really, but he can’t accept it. Not yet. “No, I—”

He wants to say I can do it, but the words won’t come. She waits, but when he does not finish his sentence, she only sighs and nods.

“If you think that’s what’s best,” she says. If she’s expecting a response, she won’t get one, or at least not one that’ll satisfy them both. He can’t maintain his facade anymore. Those carefully constructed falsehoods which were once his birthright have abandoned him; now, he is left with nothing but the truth in its harshest form, his eyes sewn open to it and his wings tied back so he can no longer cower behind their trembling defense.

Unlike his sister, Sunday never pretended to love you. Indeed, he treated you no differently than he treated everyone else, keeping a polite, reserved distance between the two of you at all times. He was kind when you spoke, though he tended to avoid such occasions, and he took great pains to ensure that he appeared as harmless as possible, pulling his wings close to his body, averting his eyes from yours and shifting so that his halo was always partially obscured.

Robin told you that he was a proud man, so the fact that he shied away before you meant something. I’ve never seen him like this, she would ponder when he would sidle past, his feathers blending in with his pale hair, a coat thrown over his shoulders and his gaze trained directly ahead even when he greeted you. It’s unlike him.

It’s kind. That was all you ever said when she prodded at you for answers. He’s being kind to me.

Unlike her brother, Robin didn’t understand what that meant, so she would only embrace you, deceptively strong despite her frail figure, wings extending to skim along your skin in what she must’ve considered a sign of affection.

I’m glad you’re getting along, she’d say, and then you’d wonder, invariably, what it’d take to break the chords of her speech. Was she capable of producing dissonance? Or was it one of her many blessings, that avoidance of discord, of cacophony? I’m really glad. I hope one day he loves you, too.

She never asked you to love him back. She never dared to even hope for it.

“I can’t recall you ever laughing at me this much when you were alive,” he says, lying on his bed with his limbs splayed out. He’s looking up at the ceiling, which is bare, as are the walls, and the furniture — entirely by design, of course. Periodically, his wings will flap weakly, wracked with nervous tremors as he waits for her to quiet.

He doesn’t reprimand her anymore. The prospect of chasing her away is unbearable, even more unbearable than the sound of her mirth, which is as wrong to his ears as music from an untuned piano. So he ignores it, and when it is particularly agonizing, he speaks to the empty air, saying everything and nothing all at once in an attempt to silence her.

“You would ask me questions,” he remembers, drumming his fingers against the mattress. “But you wouldn’t laugh. I don’t think you found me amusing, unless I tried very hard to appear that way. I was better at it back then. At becoming what people expected of me.”

She’s not laughing anymore, but he knows she hasn’t vanished yet. She’s there in his periphery, poised to disappear as soon as he turns his head but there nonetheless. Taking advantage of the rare silence, he sits up, hugging his knees to his chest and closing his eyes.

“I didn’t pretend quite as much when it was you,” he says. “You know that, right? By the end, I couldn’t bring myself to at all.”

Does she believe him? He can’t tell. If he were her, he wouldn’t believe himself, so likely not. Exhaling heavily, he collapses backwards, tangling himself into a pile of blankets that he pulls over his shoulders.

“I should have lied to you more often,” he says, eyes drifting shut. “Maybe things would be different if I had.”

On Halovians:

Halovians are the only Level 0 Intelligent Species that do not choose long-term mates, although there is evidence to suggest that in the distant past, they remained with the same partner for life. According to legend, this is because they gave up fidelity for falsehood, trading their ability to love eternally for their freedom to lie at will.

Research disagrees with this old story, and many alternate theories have been proposed. The most common and widely-accepted is the claim that the Halovians once faced extinction and thus had to procreate at speed, leading to a permanent shift in their mating habits. The most substantial proof for this, of course, is the otherwise-inexplicable population boom…

You couldn’t say for certain when you began visiting Sunday in his room. It had happened so suddenly and yet so gradually that by the time you realized what you were doing, it was too late for you to stop. He never did anything untoward — you doubted he was capable of it — staying at his desk and scowling at his work while you wandered about, familiarizing yourself with the confines of the space.

“Why don’t you decorate?” you asked him one day.

“Decorations are only needless distractions,” he responded promptly, signing a paper with a flourish that, somehow, represented his name. Sunday Oak. You didn’t know how something so enormous and grand could be summed into two squiggles and a cross, but he seemed confident of it, so who were you to question the method? “I cannot fathom sleeping with such clutter surrounding me.”

“I see,” you said, and that was the end of it.

Your conversations with him typically went as such, endless games of question-and-answer, where you would ask whatever was on your mind and he would respond as truthfully as he was able. You often wondered when he would grow tired of it, of you, but he never did. You asked Robin why it was so, and she only shrugged enigmatically.

“Maybe he’s glad to be the one speaking for once,” she said.

“What do you mean?” you said.

“You ought to ask him,” she said. “He might not tell anyone else, but if it’s you…if it’s you, then he’ll definitely answer.”

His sister’s hands are frigid on his shoulders. She’s warm by anyone else’s standards, but for a Halovian, she’s always been cold. Even when she was born, half the size she should’ve been and with eyes as boundless as the sky, she was freezing, a shivering slip of a baby shoved into his arms by his bleeding mother.

“Your halo is breaking,” she says to him, but she’s angry, her melodic voice wavering as her fingers dig into his muscle, shaking him back and forth. “It’s breaking. Why is it breaking?”

She’s glaring at him, tears welling at her lash-line. He wants to reach out his hand and wipe them away, but more will replace them in an instant, so what is the point? She shakes him again, harder and harder, and he allows her, because he’ll always allow her impulses, and because he’s never seen her like this before.

“Why?” she says. “Why is it breaking? Tell me what you did, brother, tell me what you did!”

She isn’t asking because she wants him to give her the answer. She’s asking because she wants him to deny it, to tell her that she’s wrong, that the conclusion she’s arrived at is incorrect somehow. Once, he could’ve. He could’ve made up some story about tragedy and misfortune, and she would’ve believed him, as she always did.

That was their relationship. He lied and she believed him. She asked and he obliged her. But now that he can not lie and she has nothing to ask for, what is left?

“You know already,” he says. She gasps in the manner of an injured animal, berry-stained lips parting, indubitably to hurl accusations at him.

He doesn’t think he can handle hearing them, not from his sister of all people, so he leaves before he gets the chance.

“Does it feel strange when people touch your wings?” you said. Sunday was in his bed today, afflicted by some illness of the lungs, and you were rummaging through his bookshelf, pulling out volumes at random before putting them back where you had found them.

“Huh? Why do you ask?” he said, raising a porcelain cup to his lips. It was prescription, a medicine reeking of menthol but wearing the guise of peppermint tea — the only way, according to Robin, that he would drink it. A servant had brought it and presented it to him with a bow, walking out of the room with a look thrown at you over their shoulder, concern and envy blending into something razor-thin and cutting.

“I don’t have any,” you explained, taking out a book and tracing your fingers along the gold lettering of the title. “I can’t fathom what it’d be like.”

“Come here,” he said, and although it was mildly done, you obeyed immediately. You could never forget what he was, not completely, no matter how hard he tried to make it so that you did. You would always be human and he would always be Halovian; this fundamental disconnect was insurmountable, and anyways, you had no interest in surmounting it. It’d serve you well to remember these many little differences between yourself and the Oak siblings, between yourself and Sunday in particular.

He extended his hand, the palm facing up, and dipped his chin towards it. You tilted your head in confusion, for the act was all but inexplicable, and at this he smiled. He did not smile very frequently, and it transformed his face when he did, lighting it up, turning it into something close to human — not quite, but close. Closer than he ever was otherwise.

“Here,” he said, setting aside his teacup and using his other hand to place yours against his, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and then waiting. “Does that feel strange?”

“No,” you said.

“It’s the same for me,” he said. “To you, my wings are bizarre and outlandish, but to me and those of my kind, they are simply another body part. No more or less fantastical than an arm or an ankle.”

“Ah,” you said. He settled back against the cushions of his bed, allowing the wings by his ears to stretch out comfortably, closing his eyes and letting out an exhale that shook with the remnants of a cough.

“You want to touch them,” he said. He phrased it as a statement, not a question, and when you paused before answering, his smile grew imperceptibly larger. “I don’t mind it.”

“You don’t?” you said. He shrugged.

“It’s only fair,” he said, pressing down on the point where your veins nearly surfaced, tapping in time with your pulse before drawing his hands back and clasping them together in the cavity below his ribcage. “I wouldn’t have told you you could if I’d hold any resentment for it.”

“Aren’t Halovians known for lying?” you said. He snorted.

“Have you been doing your research?” he said.

“It’s common knowledge,” you said.

“We are,” he said. “But I swear I will always tell you the truth.”

“How can I believe that? What if that’s just another one of your lies?” you said. He cracked one eye open so that he could peek at you, and whatever he saw must’ve proven your seriousness, for he hummed in thought, carefully considering your words.

“I suppose you can’t,” he said. “It’s your prerogative. Do as you’d like, then.”

He closed his eyes again, which you supposed was his version of an invitation. Waiting until his breathing stilled and he was caught in some form of repose — whether he was truly unconscious or not escaped you, but either way he was certainly in some altered state of mind — you extended your arm and brushed your index finger against his feathers.

They were as soft as you had anticipated, cottony and shapeless compared to the firm flight-feathers of the pitch-dark wings jutting out at his sides. The bones were hollow and slight, as if you could break them only by taking them into your fist and squeezing. This was such a contradiction to the appearance he so carefully maintained that your heart softened to him despite your greatest efforts to guard it.

“Those ones are mostly down,” he said, startling you out of your daze. You had assumed he was asleep and had allowed your movements to become casual and complacent. Jerking your hand back as if he had burnt it — which he just as well might have, given the temperature of his body — you held it to your chest and took an involuntary step back while he adjusted himself in his nest of bedding. “In antiquity, back when we still ruled the skies and rarely touched the ground, it was considered a sign of friendship for Halovians to groom one another’s upper-wing feathers.”

“And now?” you said.

“And now it means nothing,” he said. “Fetch me a new cup of tea if you have the time. This one has grown cold, and I am yet unwell.”

The feathers he used to be so proud of are fraying at the edges. He hasn’t cared for them in so long, hasn’t carefully misted them or doused them in diluted soap in ages, and now they have come to this. Scraggly and broken and bent and wrong.

Sticking a finger in his mouth, he rubs it along his teeth and the bitten flesh of his inner cheeks. Decay. This is decay. He’s seen it so many other times, in so many other forms, but never did he think he’d experience it himself. And least of all so quickly! Yet it has come for him, as it comes for everyone in the end.

He finds it’s different this time. It’s different when he’s the one who’s dying.

“They say it haunts us,” Sunday said. His arm was heavy over your waist, his blankets pulled up over your chin and tucked tightly around your shoulders. Your forehead was flush with his collarbones, your eyes fluttering shut as he played with the hem of your shirt while he spoke. “The first time we kill something. It haunts us to death.”

“Is that why you’re vegetarian?” you joked.

“Yes,” he said, and although he sounded grave, you could tell he was joking, too. “Can you imagine being followed around by the ghost of a chicken and then dying while it watches?”

“A horrible way to go,” you said, laughing at the image of Sunday plugging his ears and running from the shadow of a bird as it chased him, his own wings flapping furiously as it squawked at him with no small amount of indignation.

“Indeed,” he said with a laugh of his own. Then, after a pause, he hummed thoughtfully. “You should laugh more often.”

“I’ve been told my laugh is grating,” you said.

“It’s not,” he said. “Not at all.”

“Then I shall endeavor to do as you ask,” you said. “I will laugh until you tell me to stop.”

“I’ll never tell you to stop,” he promised, and you should’ve known better than to trust him, because he was a Halovian and donning that impenetrable mask of his was a part of his nature, yet you couldn’t help yourself. You did, you trusted him more than anything or anyone, and didn’t that make you a fool? A happy, laughing one, maybe — but a fool nonetheless.

He is close to collapse when he drags himself to his bathroom. Leaning over the counter of his sink, he grips the marble edge, noticing in fascination that his knuckles are almost as white as the stone. He almost can’t endure the thought of looking in the mirror, but in a last burst of inspiration, he drags his gaze up to his haggard reflection.

His heart skips a beat when he realizes he’s not alone. Standing there, beside and behind him, is her. The ghost. His ghost.

Her face is placid — she’s not laughing, and neither is she frowning. He doesn’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but he can’t change it, so who is he to complain? He waits for her to speak, but she is silent, and he considers calling out for his sister before deciding that this time, this once and never again, he will be selfish.

“It’s you,” he says, reaching out and placing his fingers against the mirror, where the image of her cheek is distorted by imperfections in the silver.

The metal is cold under the involuntary curve of his palm, which tries to follow the contours of her face but finds it to be impossible in the second dimension. Then again, to him, she was always cold, so there’s no difference, except that she is flat where once she was whole, empty where once she was everything.

“I killed you,” he says. It’s the first time he’s spoken it aloud, the first time he’s spit out the words that he’s been dancing around ever since she appeared to him, almost a year ago exactly. Somehow, it feels like a dagger driven into his heart and a weight lifted off of his shoulders simultaneously. If he had the strength, he’d run down the hallways of the mansion and scream it at everyone.

I killed her. I killed her and now I am dying for it. You bowed your heads in reverence to me, and all along I have had this blood on my hands. I killed her! How does it feel to have followed a sinner for so long? How does it feel to know that I am forsaken, and that one day, if you are so lucky, you will be, too?

Sunday’s mouth on yours was hot like a furnace, clumsy and demanding, with a lingering aftertaste like menthol. At first, it alarmed you, the overwhelming sensation, the much of it all, but before you could even pull away, something in the back of your mind twisted, and then you were grasping for anything you could. His hair, his wings, his shirt, it didn’t matter, nothing mattered, you only needed to hold onto him in some way. You could not breathe without him. You could not live without him.

That was your first indication that something was very, very wrong.

On Halovians:

Much like their presumed cousins, the sirens of Lucyke, Halovians are irresistible to their prey. Unlike the sirens, the Halovians no longer hunt; some assume that this must be one of the religious laws they abide by, while others argue that it is mere ecological responsibility.

Simply put, the Halovians were too efficient as hunters. Several lesser species have been driven to extinction by their efforts, and it is only due to the reduction in Halovian numbers, their vows of vegetarianism, and concentrated conservation efforts that the food webs on the Halovians’ native planets have stabilized in recent years.

“Sunday,” you said to him one day, when the sun had not yet risen in the sky. “I think that I will die soon.”

His mouth moved, but no sound came out. No, it seemed he was trying to say. You won’t. His lips formed the words, but they wouldn’t take shape in his throat, wouldn’t bloom into existence, and you watched as he struggled for a while before pressing the heels of his hands to his forehead.

“Yes,” he said.

“It will be your fault when I do,” you said. You weren’t accusing him; you said it simply and plainly. You were dying. It was his fault. He was the curse and the cure, if a mere prolonging of the inevitable could be considered as curing it.

He was quiet for so long that you assumed he had forgotten about the question entirely. You did not begrudge him for it — how would he answer, anyways? There was nothing that he could say which would change it. There was nothing that he could say which would reverse what he had, knowingly or unknowingly, done.

“Yes,” he said when you were halfway to dozing off.

“What?” you mumbled, the contents of the conversation already escaping you.

“Yes,” he said. “It will be my fault.”

The ghost doesn’t say anything, watching him as he turns on the sink and splashes the water onto his face in a futile effort to cool himself off. He’s feverish as he pushes himself back into a semblance of good posture, pacing back and forth along the length of the bathroom. He can only see her in the mirror, and he wonders if he somehow trapped her there or if that’s her way of teasing him; she must find him so absurd, storming away from her visage before crawling back to it like he is starved.

“I didn’t know,” he says. “You must understand that. I didn’t know! Not at first, anyways. I would’ve sent you away. If I had known, I would’ve sent you away…”

He can hear her feet against the tile, copying his own path, but he dares not turn around. What will he see if he does? What emotions will reflect in her eyes? The first time he saw her, it was fear, unadulterated and pure and choking him with its overwhelming intensity. Then, over time, it warmed into something resembling indifference, which in turn became fondness and then, finally, a sick sort of dependence, the former liveliness and curiosity glazed over with vacancy and fixation.

“I did this to you,” he admits. He’s read that accursed book on Halovians and their accursed vestigial organs and accursed archaic hunting methods so many times that he knows this for a fact. He killed her. “But I didn’t — it wasn’t my intention, please, it wasn’t, you must know that. Did you die knowing that?”

When he halts, she halts. When he takes a step forward, she does the same. It’s maddening. He doesn’t want her to echo him. Her steps sound like a prophecy, the drumbeat to a seer’s chant, and they clang in his head, the antithesis to everything he holds precious. Order. Harmony. And then there she is, discord, cacophony, waiting for him at every turn, inescapable and unavoidable.

“It’s the truth!” he snaps. The argument is entirely one-sided; the ghost never speaks to him, after all. She only laughs and sighs in turn, but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot convince her to say anything. “I can’t lie anymore. Although, that’s irrelevant; when it comes to you, I haven’t been able to lie in a long time.”

Ena, the Order; Xipe, the Harmony; defend me in this tribulation. Curse this evil, bind its spirit and banish it to whence it came.

I swear on truth. I swear on the calendar. I swear on words. I swear on values. I swear on rules. I swear on meaning. I swear on human dignity.

He’s murmuring every prayer he can think of. They play in an endless loop, springing to his lips at random, more like nonsensical jumbles of words than anything coherent. A prayer for salvation. A prayer for forgiveness. A prayer for protection. A prayer for order. A prayer for harmony. A prayer to banish her. A prayer to bring her back.

A prayer to bring her back. A prayer to bring her back. Bring her back. Bring her back. Bring her back.

“I won’t come back, you know,” she says. That’s the first time he’s heard her voice in so long, and he’s startled to find that it’s almost foreign, like he’s already begun to forget her, like she’s turned into something entirely beyond his understanding.

“Why not?” he says, his voice cracking as he scrambles for purchase against the wall. “I’ll do anything they ask. Anything you ask.”

“It doesn’t matter what you do or who you beg,” she says with a snicker. “You can’t bring someone back once you’ve killed them. You should’ve regretted it earlier; it’s meaningless now. Well, anyways, I have a question for you.”

He swallows but nods, his back to her, vision blurring out of focus as he squints at the plain wall in front of him.

“If you could meet me again, would you?” she says.

“Yes,” he says without thinking, because of course he would. How could he not?

“Knowing that it would kill me?” she adds, giggling.

Is this what it’s like for those who he interrogates? Now he is the one who cannot hide behind the comfort of fabrication, who must strip himself bare to an unsympathetic audience. He hates it, in truth. He hates it more than anything, but — but he doesn’t hate her, so clenching his jaw, he nods once more.

“Yes,” he says.

“Oh, my,” she says. “How romantic. Careful, or I’ll think you really do love me.”

He whirls around. “I do—!”

There’s nobody there. He wonders if there ever was.

#sunday x reader #sunday x y/n #sunday x you #sunday #sunday hsr #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #reader insert #canon au #hierophant #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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lancestrollsgf · 1 day ago

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# STOP LOOKING AT ME WITH THOSE EYES ! YANDERE! AXEL KOVACEVIC X READER, WRITTEN

introduction master list request list

# WARNINGS: not a good interpretation of a yandere (not intense), lowercase intended, female! reader, use of y/n, spelling/grammar errors, possible OC axel and gullible reader, established relationship, messy writing, and maybe bad descriptions. good ending!! + a cute extra scene at the end

# SUMMARY: you decided to follow your boyfriend to the torment he was participating in. due to not making many friends in highschool in croatia, being in a new environment and country could be a possibility to make new friends, but by the way axel is acting, he doesn’t seem to like that.

# AUTHOR’S NOTE: i did have to watch season 6 again to really get a good intro on axel again, i also did some research/watch interviews, hoping it is right. in this axel is 16 years old and is from croatia, balkans. meaning that axel is going to school in croatia and went to hong kong for training with sensei wolf. i know that it wasn't shown but pretend that axel and reader actually had time and would at least in someway interact with the other characters (more like just miyagi do). i apologize for this being on the short side, i’m still trying to get the hang of writing again. word count: 1100. here is the link of the song the title is named after!

# REQUESTED: YES

axel has been your boyfriend for a while now, and you've always been by his side—more voluntarily than anything, considering how hard it was for you to make friends in your high school back in croatia. it wasn’t that you were unlikable, just that people didn’t seem to care enough to get close. axel was different, though. from the moment he noticed you, it was like you were the only person in his world.

when he told you he was leaving for the tournament, you didn’t hesitate to follow. a new environment, a new country—it sounded like an opportunity, a fresh start. maybe this time, things would be different. maybe you could finally belong somewhere. but axel… he didn’t seem to like that idea.

it started small. a hand on your lower back when you tried to talk to someone new. standing just a little too close when another competitor greeted you. answering for you when someone would ask a question. his grip would tighten, his voice always calm but firm, a quiet reminder.

stay close to me.

you brushed it off at first. axel had always been protective. he said it was because he knew what people were really like— how they used and discarded others when it suited them. you didn't want to believe that.

but then came the glares. the cold, sharp eyes watching every interaction you had. the way his jaw clenched whenever someone so much as smiled at you. the way his mood soured whenever you laughed at someone else's joke.

then the words.

"we're leaving soon, don't get to close"

"they're pretending to be nice, they're trying to get to me"

"i'm the only one who understands you"

at first, you tried to ignore it. axel had always been intense— possessive, even —but he had his reasons. he didn't trust easily, and he never let his guard down. but now, that wasn't just directed at his opponents in the tournament. it was now aimed at anyone who got too close to you.

it started off small. a hand on your wrist when you lingered too long in a conversation. a sharp look when miguel or hawk cracked a joke that made you laugh. the way he always seemed to position himself between you and someone else. like an unspoken barrier.

at first, the others found it ammusing.

"man, your boyfriend's intense," hawk had said nudging miguel after axel all but dragged you away from a conversation. "you sure he let's you breathe?" miguel had given you a sympathetic glance, but he didn't push. sam, on the other hand, did.

"you know that you can talk to whoever you want, right?" she asked one afternoon when axel had stepped away for a minute, due to his sensei wanting to have a conversation with him.

"i know," you had said, but the words felt hollow. because deep down, you knew it wasn't about permission. it was about him. about the way axel saw the world— how he believed people couldn't be trusted. and more than anything, it was about his fear of losing you.

but it couldn't go on like this.

that night, after most of the competitors had gone back to their rooms, you found him outside, leaning against the railing of the balcony of your shared rooms. the bright active city lights reflected in his eyes, but his expression was unreadable.

"you're mad," he said before you could even open your mouth. "i'm frustrated," you corrected, stepping closer. "axel... you have to stop this. i want to be here with you, but i can't do that if you keep pushing everyone else away." his grip tightened on the railing. "i'm not pushing them away. i'm protecting you."

"from what?" you asked, starting to get irritated. "from people being nice to me? from me finally being able to have the chance to make friends?"

he turned to face you then, his gaze sharp but conflicted. "people lie. they act friendly, they pretend to care— but in the end, they always let you down." his voice was steady, but there was something beneath it. something raw. "not everyone," you said softly, reaching for his hand. "not me."

for a moment, he didn't move. then, slowly, his fingers curled around yours, his grip firm, but not forceful. "i don't want to lose you," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "you won't," you promised. "but you have to trust me the way I trust you."

axel exhaled sharply, looking away. you could tell it wasn't easy for him, to let go of control. but after a moment, he nodded. "...alright," he muttered. "but if they give me a reason to not trust them—"

"i know," you interrupted, a small smile tugging at your lips. "you'll be watching." a smirk ghosted across his face, and for the first time in a while. his presence didn't feel suffocating. it felt grounding.

— extra scene funny and cute!! (y/n and axel are sitting with miyagi do in this scenario and they have a good relationship with them in this scene.)

the shift in axel hadn't gone noticed. while he still had his moments—hovering nearby whenever someone got a little too friendly—he wasn’t shutting you off from the rest of the world anymore.

during a lunch with all the teams in the tournament, miguel nudged hawk and nodded toward the two of you. “dude, i think your little intervention worked.” hawk smirked, taking a bite of his food. “told you. y/n just had to remind him that she’s her own person, and won’t go anywhere.” hawk replied quietly.

demetri, who had been wary of axel ever since the tense standoff, finally realized enough to sit at the same table again. “so, we’re actually allowed to talk to you now?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

axel shot him a look, but there’s no hostility behind it. “don’t push it.” tory leaned back in her chair, smirking. “hey, progress is progress.”

even sam, who has been quietly observing, gave a small nod of approval. “it’s nice to see you with us instead of watching from a distance.”

you squeezed axel’s hand under the table, and for once, he didn’t flinch away from the attention. instead, he met your gaze, a silent understanding passing between you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

the end!!! 😄😄 if anyone from the better norris series is reading this, part three is coming soon! just trying to get through the axel requests, which i am open to more requests, before posting the third part. ( i am working on part four rn )

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scrumptiousstuffs · 2 days ago

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Hey anon here

I know I will be sounding very stupid here and as much as I love being a delulu fan but I know how the bl industry works and as for a fact the entire entertainment Business for that matter, it's about engagement and fan services, I saw almost all the couples of gmmtv put stories about their dates and how they celebrated their valantine with each other but then realistically speaking I know for a fact most of it was fan service coz no way each cp in a company is dating each other so what's your take on this whole thing, also I'm not saying they are faking it or something like if some of them are dating then that's really good but all of them it's hard to believe

Also I'm a firstkhao fan and well as much as I wanted them to post something just to feed my delulu but then they didn't and that's so them and how many chances do you think of them dating two different people is true as I saw on fan speaking about it and I know it was for fun but then why not it's their Life after all and we are just fans who live them together

Hi anon.

So, I’m not going to say I know much about how CPs and the entertainment business work.

However, I think you are right in saying that most official CPs (and even some who are not - like Kapook and Ciize!! 😉) put up some sort of photoshoots or coupl-y type of activities (either going for dinner/sunset dates or making reels of giving each other beautiful bouquet of flower etc.) are doing a level of fanservice - be it for the fans to squeal over, promoting their upcoming series or to attract engagement to better their work prospects.

But I also feel most of these CPs are genuine friends in real-life and for them, doing these sorts of activities are fun for them. After all, you get to hang out with a close friend whom you cherish, even if you have to put up a photo (or 2) +/- video reels on your social media as an “obligatory post.”

What I do feel somehow sad for the CPs are when fans (+ media outlets) keep asking insistently “what are your plans with so and so?” - I’m pretty sure JoongDunk got asked multiple times these questions leading up to Valentine’s Day. And then asked again during their recent work event on 14/02/25 - what their Valentine’s dinner plan is? What gifts did the boys buy each other? How do you guys show each other your love? (Or something to that effect) - cause I saw Dunk (to his credit he was very professional), answering that Joong’s way to show love is by physical affection while he showed his by cooking/baking with Joong always the first one to taste his food.

Maybe I’m in the minority, but my personal opinion - if the CPs want to tell us, they can do so without anyone else badgering them about it through their social media posts at their own time and choosing.

As for FirstKhaotung (they are also my OTP 😂anon!!!)…I admit I was puzzled when the fans are disappointed about the lack of “Valentine updates” from them.

Firstly, both boys wished the fans “Happy Valentine’s Day” on Twitter (even if First was trolling us with a picture of P’Tha in the middle of him and Khaotung 🤣)

Secondly, both boys posted IG updates of them wishing the other Valentine’s Day with song choices that I could only interpret as love confession to each other… 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Thirdly, are we all that surprised the boys don’t put up videos/pictures of them giving each other flowers/chocolates? (Or doing couple photoshoots?) - I get the feeling they are just happily nesting in Khaotung’s brand new house with 3 fur babies around them while playing video games after perhaps brunch/lunch + shopping together (cause let’s be honest, that will be their version of a perfect Valentine’s Day).

So , Iike you anon - I am not surprised by the minimal Valentine posts/photos from them (in fact, I was pleasantly shocked the IG posts from them happened at all - which led me into more delulu land hahah)

As for them actually dating another person 🤷🏽‍♀️…who knows. If/when it happens, I’ll cheer them on. However, all I know is that whoever is dating First/Khaotung, will actually be dating them as a set rather than one person 😂. My head canon is that F/K going on a date with someone, and the bestie who is NOT on that date will just tag along anyway 🤸 …

#delulu land is fun as long as we know it’s delulu #khaotung thanawat #first kanaphan #firstkhao #CP culture #asked and answered #Valentine’s day

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goopi-e · 15 hours ago

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To me, it's kind of insane that the whole "Intelligence Dampening Sphere" reveal was kept from us for so long.

Like, you'd think that GLaDOS would weaponize this knowledge sooner. But no, for the first part of the game, She remains surprisingly ignorant of Wheatley, and even once She does acknowledge him, it's very impersonal, compared to the vitriol She expresses afterwards. "Metal ball", really? That's it? As if She really coudn't distinguish him from any other robot in the facility.

...But okay. Seeing how good She is at suppressing traumatic memories, maybe it really took Her that long to remember; maybe there was something specific that needed to be triggered first. Whatever.

But Wheatley? Resident Mr. "Can't Keep A Secret To Save His Life"? You're saying that, after endless complaints about his jobs, he'd never mention his original occupation? That, after bringing up the human who managed to kill GLaDOS, he'd pass up the opportunity to boast about the kind of damage he was able to inflict on Her? That he wouldn't at least vent his frustrations if the whole ordeal was as distressing to him as it was to Her?

And yet he doesn't seem to be unaware of his nature, either. If he didn't know he was made to dampen Her intelligence, then, most likely, he'd just interpret the accusation of such as bluff and dismiss it. Instead, he goes into denial, yes — but barely shows any confusion and never tries to refute. Plus, compare the ensuing meltdown to how he reacts to being called an idiot during the pre-transfer struggle — it's not nearly as caustic.

And then there's... nothing else. No character elaborates on the topic further, as the game swiftly moves on to different mysteries. "Lab Rat" never brings up any specific core during Doug's flashbacks. Nothing in Portal 1 is recontextualized by this knowledge. And, of course, no new supplementary material on the topic was released since.

So far all that's left to do is to touch the scorched ground and wonder what the absolute hell went down between them.

#see why i'm so obsessed?#two characters incapable of shutting up — and yet both are silent on this one topic #portal #portal 2 #glados #wheatley

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hollowed-theory-hall · 16 hours ago

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I think Voldemort’s resurrection was botched

I was always of the belief that Wormtail messed up the resurrection ritual and that Voldemort’s body wasn't supposed to look like that. Voldemort didn't mind his appearance too much, but he wasn't supposed to look like that.

I was rereading the graveyard scene and found possible evidence for this reading:

Voldemort looked away from Harry and began examining his own body. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cat’s, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant. He took not the slightest notice of Wormtail, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which had slithered back into sight and was circling Harry again, hissing. Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it, and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry was tied; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. [...] Wormtail’s robes were shining with blood now; he had wrapped the stump of his arm in them. “My Lord . . .” he choked, “my Lord . . . you promised . . . you did promise . . .” “Hold out your arm,” said Voldemort lazily. “Oh Master . . . thank you, Master . . .” He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again. “The other arm, Wormtail.” “Master, please . . . please . . .”

I mean, why did he throw Peter like that right after examining his body? Literally, the only thing going on before he does this is Voldy examines his new form, and Peter whimpers off to the side. And after he throws him away he goes over to call the Death Eaters.

To me, this reads like a quick violent reaction since he's unhappy with the results. This looks like a punishment. Why would he punish Peter for giving him back his body unless he got it wrong?

The main flaw with this interpretation is that Harry describes Voldemort’s face as "exultant" which is a sort of extreme joy, usually about a triumph — a positive emotion. This could be attributed to him being happy for having a body at all or, perhaps having a hard time controlling his new form's facial muscles and the expression coming off weird.

But I do admit that if he's unhappy I wouldn't expect his face to be "exultant".

But then again, why did he throw Peter like that when he wanted to use the dark mark? Or if Peter did good, yk? You don't punish someone who does something well, so it's really weird. If he just wanted to get him closer I'd expect it to be phrased a little differently. Like: "and then he raised it, and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown at Voldemort's feet" since he wanted to activate the Dark Mark. But that's not what he did.

Just thought I'd point it out as a piece of evidence towards: Voldemort didn't look like that before he died the first time.

(I think he looked a little off, not saying he didn't. I think his eyes might've been red even before, but he had hair and looked like a sickly human (not a snake!) in the interview with Dumbledore in 1967 (I think he didn't look as bad as in the interview either because of how Harry describes his appearance) and he didn't make more Horcruxes between then and the night he killed the Potters, so it doesn't really make sense he'd look snake-like before his death)

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #hollowedtheory #harry potter meta #voldemort #lord voldemort #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #peter pettigrew #goblet of fire #hp magical theory

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chambersandfogg · 3 days ago

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February 14th, 1931

Dear Charles,

A happy Valentine’s Day to you, my friend! I hope you’ll forgive the bit of kitsch enclosed, for I have no one else to whom I could possibly send a valentine without it being interpreted as some kind of serious overture. But when I saw this fellow, I simply had to share him. A peculiar card, isn’t it? Poor attempts at feline humor aside, the cat in question is somewhat off-putting, I’d say. Those mad eyes, sharp claws; the strange lack of front legs. And the text just adds to the threatening air. I got a real kick out of it and thought you might too.

Did you make any plans for the evening? I am, of all things, going to the picture house to see the new “Dracula” film. Perhaps not the most romantic outing, but the chatter from the New York premiere is grand. And I will be accompanying a quite spectacular new actress whom I met just a few weeks ago. If I’m being entirely honest, I write “spectacular” not to describe her talent—she is certainly not the next Clara Bow—but her looks, which more than make up the difference. Perhaps you’ll find that terribly shallow, but I’m learning that the film industry relies heavily on its stars being rather nice to look at. After all, the audience is so much closer to them than they are to a performer on a stage.

But the medium does have its other benefits—it is much easier to create a sense of illusion and wonder when you can manipulate the final product so completely. Not that I am looking to adapt my old act into a picture, but one does marvel at the possibilities. In any case, I’m looking forward to see what they do with the bizarre fruits of Bram Stoker’s imagination.

Thank goodness we don’t have to drink blood to remain immortal. Dracula really did get the bad end of the deal. Then again, he was able to pass on his strange disease to others—though he did it quite badly. If we had that capability, would you take advantage of it? Would you create for yourself a forever valentine? The idea is tempting, though only Lord knows who it would be. It certainly won’t be this actress, fine as she is to gaze upon.

I will write again to tell you of my thoughts about the film, by which point you may have seen it as well. I personally am in the habit of going to see pictures the day they come into theaters and perhaps you are too. How would I know when you never tell me anything beyond the contents of your work? Though I suppose I can’t complain too much when you’ve secured the eminently capable Mister Weston, Esquire. Do let me know if he requires any further information from me to secure our entry into new life.

I hope the mysterious work you’re doing in Washington is yielding the results you hope. I continue to enjoy the Western part of this country immensely and will remain here for some time, as,

Your friend,

John Fogg

[a letter received by C.X. Chambers, with the following card enclosed]

[to read the pre-1917 entries, join Atypical Artists and get access to the archive of 24 entries (5,000+ words), as well as ad-free episodes of Atypical's whole catalogue. to receive future monthly missives straight to your inbox, sign up for free here]

#fogg #letter #chambers and fogg #new year's day podcast #lauren shippen

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coleeeitgysn1infi · 13 hours ago

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GIYUU X SANEMI SHIP CHARTS❕

(Tw: horrible grammar & spelling, teeny tiny bit of nsfw, not that understandable, some bad takes. And I'm sorry!)

I don't like this opinion that the fandom has and i think they're misinterpreting the character, in my opinion this should be interpreted like this.

First image:

1. Big/little spoon:

• Giyuu is the big spoon while Sanemi the little spoon. Giyuu is more likely to big spoon because of his truma and what he hates. Not even talking about smut or anything, this is all In general. Giyuu would big spoon even when they are sleeping or cuddling together. Why? A sign of protection. He rather protect then be protected, because people died protected him, his sister and his best friend, Tsutako and Sabito died protecting and that made Giyuu hate having to be protected, now he protectes his loved ones because he can't afford to lose someone else while protecting him, he hates being useless as well, so in order not to be protected, protected and not be useless, he will big spoon in the relationship. In Giyuu's head, anything can happen, when they sleep at night, Giyuu would big spoon, because what if an intruder broke in? What it they try to kill them? Possible or not, Giyuu would big spoon to be the closer target, so Sanemi doesn't die in his presence. Dying is one of Giyuu's top "idgf" list, so if he doesn't care about dying to protect Sanemi.

• About Sanemi, he spent his whole life protecting, him small spooning is the better thing for him. He may hate being vulnerable and showing emotions, but that's what he needs, him taking a break from everything is what he needs, and Giyuu can provide that for him, he can help him relax and not be always on alarm and acutely feel comfortable enough to express his feelings, Giyuu is litterly the perfect person for that. All the people Sanemi protected died, no matter how hard he tried, His mother, his siblings, Genya and Masachika died because he couldn't protect them. Now, if he had to protect Giyuu, they would always be worried, always be alarmed, and nothing would have changed from their trauma and the cycle would be repeateded all over again, both of them would always be on edge and will acutely be really unhealthy and toxic for them. Giyuu big spooning and Sanemi little spooning is what's for the best, both would be at ease, both would trust each other, both would be happy, calm and more relaxed after so long.

2. Clothes sharing:

• They both share clothes if they need to, they are the same size. 3 cm is not 3 inches people, and so if Giyuu is 3 cm shorter? How can that mean that Giyuu is less of a man as the rest?

3. Extrovert & introvert:

• Sanemi isn't that extroverted either, if anything, his Omniverted. What's Omniverted. What is an omnivert person?

• Omnivert. Definition. A person who exhibits qualities of both introversion and extroversion, and can flip into either depending on their mood, context, and goals. A person who can feel intensely introverted or extroverted in different situations, with preferences changing frequently and drastically.

• With this say, Sanemi is either introverted or extroverted depending how he feels, what situation he is in. We can say Sanemi is not that extroverted, because he doesn't seem that pleased when his around a lot of people and doesn't even talk much about anything but his duty. Sanemi is somewhere in the middle of that.

• For Giyuu, there are 4 types of introvert, his a thinking type introvert. He doesn't have the social type, not the anxious type, not the restrained type. As kid, he might have had with the social or anxious type, but as a grown adult his different.

4. Confession:

• Giyuu I the type of guy who will confess the second he gets the right chance, while Sanemi waits to be confessed. Giyuu is canonly a straight forward guy, if he has the guts to insult Sanemi out of no where, he has the guts to confess to him out of no where.

• While Sanemi, is a person who probably fears the possibly of being rejected, so he will just sit somewhere and pray that the person he likes will confess to him, cos there is no way Sanemi will take the chance of being rejected and humiliated. Sanemi probably will take a longer time to realize if he likes someone, while Giyuu would notice most likely immediately when he likes someone. "Giyuu fell first & Sanemi fell harder." that's my quote, meaning, Giyuu is the one who fell in love first with Sanemi, while Sanemi fell in love after a lot of emotional challenges and doubt.

5. Bugs...:

• Really? Screaming about bugs? Giyuu is the one killing it with a shoe, Sanemi let's it outside and will probably blind Giyuu when he sees him to try and kill the poor thing- (canon, I was the bug.)

6. Driving skills:

• In my opinion, Giyuu is a more carful driver then Sanemi, but Sanemi has more experience on driving. Probably because in modern au, Giyuu would be driven around by Sakonji, Tsutako and Sabito or would have taken the bus while Sanemi learned how to drive at a young age and drive his siblings around a lot.

7. Cooking skills:

• Yeah th cooking one is right. To be fair, I meet some people who thought Sanemi can't cook and Giyuu can- so I highlighted this.

8. Protectiveness:

• Both are overprotective, both in different ways. Sanemi is more of mama bear protective because he had to take care of his 6 younger siblings and was like a second mother to them. Sanemi's character is a lot like a "older sister" type, because of his background and story, personality as well.

Here is a post that relates to this and the first one.

9. Dating experience:

• Both don't have relationship experience. Especially Sanemi since in the light novel is said that Sanemi also doesn't care about romance and doesn't care about girls founding over him if he become a hashira when Masachika teased him. It's canon that he doesn't understand romance either, not being in able to tell that your own best friend likes someone while litterly Muichiro himself could tell while Sanemi couldn't. It's funny.

• About Giyuu's romance, his a natural, so he probably would know much more about relationships then Sanemi. Comme on, having an idea of how to befriend Sanemi by making him something he loves and also having flowers on his imagination, we can agree Giyuu is at least more romantic then Sanemi, since he can also understand when he is in love or not.

10. Awkwardness level:

• Both are awkward in different ways, Giyuu awkward with words, Sanemi just hating the feeling of awkwardness since people scold him a lot about his behavior.

11. Jealous level:

• Giyuu is canonly the jealous type. When he got jealous that Tanjiro started using different breathing styles, the way he envies the other hashiras, Sanemi and Tengen for example, when he said to Sanemi himself how he envies his "simple mind". (that part was hilarious, you can not disagree).

• Sanemi isn't really the jealous type, he just hates unfairness. Giyuu is mostly likely to be jealous when Someone that shows interested in Sanemi, then Sanemi being jealous of someone that shows interested in Giyuu. Is that Giyuu doesn't trust Sanemi, he doesn't like it when someone other then him is interested in him. Sanemi trusts Giyuu in this too, so he doesn't care at all and has more important things to deal with.

12. Sexuality:

• About their sexuality, my head canon is that Giyuu is demisexual, why? Because I can see Giyuu loving someone about their personality not their physical looks. It's not like Pansexual where they love everyone, Giyuu doesn't not love everyone, he has to know more about you, to love you. For example if Sanemi became a woman, Giyuu wouldn't care at all, and nothing about his preferences or feelings would change, he will love Sanemi the same, not more or less. I don't like the HC people make of Giyuu that his Gay, it doesn't match at at tbh, and doesn't fit him at all, his demisexual and you really don't have much proof that his not. Because Giyuu wasn't all over Sanemi just because he was a man, if Sanemi was a women from the beginning, Giyuu would still want to befriend Sanemi, and if they where canon, Giyuu would still love Sanemi, man or not.

• I think Sanemi is bisexual with preference for women in my opinion. Why? Because women where the one people that where gently with him, unlike man like his father which he had a lot of them who reminded Sanemi of his father, even Tengen is just as Intimating like Sanemi 's father. Plus, Sanemi looked up to women, like his mother, and Kanae who touch reminded him of his mother (light novel), but the man who where actually just as gentle with him where Masachika and Master. Giyuu is on his list as well, AT THE END of the manga. If they where canon, Giyuu would be patient with Sanemi, wouldn't force him on anything and acutely would build a comfortable and safe space for Sanemi. Which makes our boy bisexuals over all.

Second image:

1. How they met:

• "When Giyuu became a hashira" ⁉️ yeah, this person doesn't know much. "When Sanemi became a hashira" is the correct quote idk why they didn't know that.

2. The relationship in a sentence:

• Giyuu falls in love first not "too easy", and if anyone of them was crazy about the other, is Giyuu crazy about Sanemi!! Idk why people always confuse this, Giyuu is the one who what's to befriend Sanemi, Giyuu is the one who wants to make him his favorite food, and Giyuu is the one who likes him! Romantically or platonically, doesn't matter.

3. Talkitive & Listener:

• Their both at the listerner category in my opinion, just Sanemi little more in the middle. You can't see Sanemi starting a convo about something, people come to talk to him, he doesn't go to talk to people.

• But Giyuu, he is the type of person who starts conversations, when he finds something you like, he will mostly talk about it.

5. Superior/equal/inferior:

• Sanemi views both of them as equal, but Giyuu is more complicated.

• Giyuu even though he thinks he isn't worthy of a hashira, he doesn't think his beneath anyone's shoes, he still says what he wants, does what he wants and doesn't carenif your more superior then him or not.

6. Flustered/chill

• Sanemi is the flustered one in the relationship, he gets easily embarrassed and awkward, and he tries his hardest not to be in these sections.

• While Giyuu is chill with anything, he couldn't care less in reality.

7. Life of the party - What is joy:

• Both are in "what is joy" group.

• Sanemi himself doesn't see the point in being happy when there are demons going around killing innocent lives. It's said in the light novel, the only time his joyful is when his training with Giyuu in the Hashira Training Arc, he is seen smiling when fighting with Giyuu, but when his training with Obanai or Muichiro, his not.

• Giyuu himself doesn't see the point either, but he doesn't have as big of a hatred in demons like Sanemi does. His stuck in the past and he can't move on from it. The only time we see him smile is either when his eating his favorite meal - miso soup with salmon and daikon - or when his thinking about Sanemi!! Both of them here are the same in this scenario, both find lots of joy in their favorite food and when they interact! Sanemi may hate Giyuu's guts at the beginning but we see them smile at each other so many times as time passes by.

8. Forgets errands and chores/does all the errands:

• Sanemi does all the errands/chores while Giyuu forgets. Sanemi grew up cleaning up after his siblings and father, he also likely cooked for his siblings when their mother was away at work.

• Giyuu was always cleaned after, his sister most likely did everything around the house and Sakonji as well. We also see Giyuu's estate has no furniture, so he probably doesn't clean at all so he doesn't bother to get anything but a bed to sleep on. And he either eats out or the Kakushi do everything else for him.

9. Changes:

• Sanemi most likely makes changes happen and Giyuu keeps things simple.

10. Trust:

• Giyuu has bigger trust then Sanemi, he also is a person that has no secrets so he trusts Sanemi the same.

• Sanemi is more difficult, he doesn't trust people easily and it took a while for him to trust Giyuu, even though now he trusts him, Sanemi still doesn't tell him all his secrets, like Giyuu does with him.

11. Emotional openness:

• Even tho neither of them are emotionally open, Giyuu is the one who's more emotionally open that Sanemi, because like I said 100 times, Sanemi hates showing his vulnerable emotions. Giyuu is the one who his more open about his feelings as well, his more open emotionally too.

12. Affection:

Giyuu is wayy more affectionate than Sanemi is. But both have almost the same way of showing it.

Giyuu's love language: (ranked)

- buying gifts

- acts of service

- physical touch

- Quality time

- words of affirmation

Sanemi's love language:

- acts of service

- Quality time

- secretly likes physical touch

- gift giving

- words of affirmation

these are the 5 type of love language and how I rank them for Giyuu and Sanemi

13. Emotional needs:

• Sanemi is 20% Giyuu 35-40%

14. Sharing generosity:

• Sanemi is really careful on what he shares, and without thinking about it, he won't share anything.

• For Giyuu, if he has to share something he doesn't really care about, he doesn't have a problem with it, other wise, he doesn't like sharing stuff that he cares about and are meant for him.

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Note: I resaid some stuff I had already posted on my other blogs, but I added them here as well because not everyone read those posts. I will be adding them here and also some other posts that I think really explain Giyuu and Sanemi's dynamic. (These are all I had the patients to find.)

mine: 1 2 3

@demonslayerunhinged: this separate post of them 1 and this blog where they gathered some of their Gysn posts 2. 3 4 5

@painyrainy: 1

@yoiiyoii: 1

@pompomchihuahua: 1

@roseameilatempest: 1 2 3

Pls read their works, they are amazing!

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My explanations might have been confusing but it make my explanations clear I made my own Giyuu x Sanemi ship chart!

This is my GiyuSane chart IN MY OPINION!😭

(im gonna post these Sepretly)

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Note 2: This is all I could gather so far 😭😭😭 Another note, ik my takes are confusing and my bad grammar can make it even more confusing. Even I myself am confused, but this is definitely one of my longest post so I was a little impatient when writing everything. If you don't agree with MY TAKES, then idk girly, you do you, if you want to add anything, pls do, I'd appreciate it!!

#kny #demon slayer #giyuu tomioka #sanemi shinazugawa #giyusane #giyuusane #sanegiyuu #kimetsu no yaiba #giyuu x sanemi #giyuu and Sanemi #gysn #sngy #ship chart #giyusane ship chart #hot takes #unpopular opinion

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