#or they barely look the same and are out of character

[savi0rr]

Darling Wife .ᐟ

Viktor x Fem! Reader

In which, Viktor has a sweet wife that, weirdly enough, no one really knew about.

a/n: hi divas! Erm this is my first time writing for Viktor so I'm sorry if he sounds out of character.

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"Viktor? What is that on your finger?" Jayce inquired, suddenly appearing behind Viktor and peering curiously over his shoulder. Viktor felt a knot form in his stomach as he glanced down at his hand, where a gleaming wedding band rested snugly on his finger. He cursed under his breath, realizing he had meant to remove it but had completely forgotten in the whirlwind of his work.

"Just a ring," Viktor replied evasively, casting a quick look back at Jayce while clicking his tongue in annoyance. Jayce, however, was undeterred. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, a teasing smirk forming on his lips. "Isn’t that the same finger where wedding rings typically go?" he challenged, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Don’t tell me you actually have a wife?"

Viktor maintained his silence, his heart racing in response to Jayce’s playful interrogation. "Even if I did, I wouldn't share that information with you," he said tersely, redirecting his attention back to the Hextech gemstone in front of him, his mind racing as he tried to refocus on his work.

Jayce, still leaning casually against the desk, raised his eyebrow further, the smirk on his face beginning to fade away. He studied Viktor’s expression closely, a frown of confusion.

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“Viktor has a wife? That’s just absurd,” Mel declared, waving her hand dismissively as if to brush away the very notion. 

“No, I swear! He’s actually wearing a wedding ring. When I asked him about it, he responded with, ‘Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,’” Jayce insisted, leaning closer to Mel's desk, his hands planted firmly on the surface.

Mel rolled her eyes in disbelief, leaning back in her chair and letting her hands fall into her lap. “Who on Earth would marry Viktor?” she whispered, her curiosity piqued as she leaned forward slightly, her expression a mix of intrigue and skepticism. “No offense, but…” she trailed off, momentarily glancing away, her thoughts clearly racing.

Jayce sighed, exasperated. “I mean, it’s not the best image, is it?” he muttered, shrugging as he contemplated the idea. His mind seemed to wander as he contemplated the strange pairing. “Plus, why do you even care?” Mel asked, raising an eyebrow at him, a hint of playful challenge in her voice. “Because I want to know what she looks like!” he responded with a hint of frustration, glancing off to the side, and groaning.

Mel pondered for a moment, her brow furrowing. “Even if he did have a wife, wouldn’t she be here at the Academia with him?” she pointed out, her curiosity beginning to overshadow her previous skepticism. “That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Jayce exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. “It doesn’t add up!”

With a sigh, Mel straightened up, her expression turning serious. “Look, I have much bigger problems to deal with than figuring out who Viktor is married to,” she stated firmly.

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"When do you think he sees his wife?" Mel asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she peeked around the corner of the dimly lit hallway. The soft glow of fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting shadows on the walls of the Academia. Jayce followed her gaze, cautiously poking his head out to get a better look.

"Hmm... maybe when he isn’t buried under a mountain of work," Jayce mused, tilting his head and furrowing his brow in thought. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, and he swept it back with a casual motion. Mel, with an exasperated huff, rolled her eyes dramatically. 

"You should know this! You’re his partner, for crying out loud," she murmured, her tone tinged with disbelief as she crossed her arms. Jayce's expression shifted to one of sheepishness, his cheeks flushing slightly as he glanced away, avoiding her accusatory gaze.

"But I leave before him. I'm already gone by the time he usually starts his day. And when I come back to the lab, it’s always just him—working away, lost in his experiments," Jayce replied, his shoulders lifting in a shrug that conveyed both confusion and resignation. He could sense Mel's frustration, but the truth was, Viktor’s work schedule was a puzzle he had yet to solve.

Mel sighed heavily, her brow knitting together in thought. "How do you not know… never mind," she grumbled, her voice trailing off as she turned her attention back to Viktor, who was at that moment preparing to leave. 

"Shhh!" Jayce hissed urgently, his eyes widening as he quickly placed a hand over Mel's mouth, the sound echoing loudly in the stillness. They both watched in silence as Viktor slowly began to rise, gripping his crutch tightly under his arm while gathering his belongings with meticulous care. He seemed unaware of the two pairs of eyes on him, lost in his own world.

Viktor gripped his documents as he walked down the hallway, his eyes narrowed. He made his way down to the back of the Academia, opening a door. Jayce and Mel looking out the window from the other story. "The hell is he doing?" Jayce muttered under his breath. "Look," Mel said, spotting you not too far in the distance. "Is that his wife?" Jayce whispered.

"Viktor." You spoke up, smiling when you saw him. You stood up from the bench you were sitting at. Viktor eagerly wobbled over to you. "I've been waiting." You teased lightly, taking the documents from his hand and placing them down on the bench. Viktor could only stare at you. He hadn't seen you in a while. But he'd never say that he missed you. "How are you doing?" You asked gently, guiding him to sit down, placing his crutch aside. "I've been...well," Viktor said plainly. "I could be better." He muttered, glancing off to the side. You nodded, sitting beside him. You glanced down at his hand, raising an eyebrow. "You wore your wedding ring?" You asked, a small smile forming on your face. Viktor's cheeks warmed a bit, sighing. "I meant to take it off." He grumbled as his fingers ran over the wedding band. "I'm glad you wore it. It suits you." You giggled lightly, placing your hand over his.

Meanwhile, with Jayce and Mel, they could only stare in shock. "Of course, he has a pretty wife too!" Jayce groaned as he shook his head. "Of course," Mel muttered as she sweat drops. "Who knew she was so darling?"

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[quarterlifekitty]

König and Domestic Silk Moth Hybrid!Reader

Due to popular demand (about 4 people)

Context: in this one, I’m having König stay human and having hybrids in a pet role. As an insect hybrid, I’m making her small AF (like 2-3 ft tall). I did consider making her Barbie sized tho 👀. So this is gonna have size kink bordering on micro/macro just so you know!

König is stuck on medical leave, and pretty damned miserable. He sustained a break that’s put him out of commission for a while. He’s never spent so long in his empty home, and it’s driving him insane. He’s spent basically his entire adult life married to his work, so he’s woefully unprepared to keep himself entertained.

And despite being something of a loner most times, he misses the noise. He misses the bodies and conversation. He and Horangi have a phone call every so often, and text as frequently as the work allows, but that only takes up so much time in the day.

And it’s Horangi that suggests a hybrid.

That’s something that he could throw himself into to keep occupied, as well as giving company. And unlike a pet, a hybrid would be able to be mostly self sufficient whenever he returned to work.

(Horangi doesn’t want to say if he returns. But König is not a young man, and has sustained a serious injury. There’s a chance that even if he heals, he won’t be the same as before. Combined with his rank, it won’t be huge surprise if he’s pressured or forced into retirement if his utility is limited.)

König is apprehensive— so he doesn’t want something quite as needy as a cat or dog hybrid, where he’d have to deal with heats and noise. And Horangi happens to have an old friend, retired, who raises domestic silk moth hybrids with his newfound free time. You’re picked to be offered up, freshly cut from your thick silk cocoon.

And for König, it’s love at first sight.

You’re very pretty. Fluffy white fur, big, dark, eyes. And so small. You barely come up to his hip, and raise your arms, asking to be lifted. It’s only then that he learns domesticated silk moths are flightless, their wings are pretty but unable to fly. It makes him feel a little bit of kinship with you. Restricted movement, denied purpose.

And basically his life revolves around you from that point. König doesn’t have many involved or expensive hobbies, so he has a lot of time and resources to devote to your care. You’re something of a niche pet, so it’s a little difficult to find things made for you. He resorts to commissions. Don’t fucking look at his Etsy purchase history.

You live your life perched on his shoulders or in his arms (you’re much too small to keep up with him). He’s a little afraid of letting you in his bed at night, he doesn’t want to roll over and crush you by accident, but you keep crawling under his covers anyways. You can’t help having cocooning behavior.

He’s constantly sitting you on ledges. On the sink while he shaves, on the counter when he cooks, on his desk when he works. You’ve always gotta be within arms reach for petting purposes.

And the petting, the kissing… he’s so addicted to the contact. He’s been alone for so long, and you’re so soft.

And that just leads to him getting more and more curious about your body. You don’t mind— you love him! And he loves his little Seidenmotte.

He’s beyond delicate with you. You’re so small— he has to work you up quite a bit before he can even fit a finger into your cute little pussy.

God it makes him hard how he can pin you down by the stomach with just one hand. And you make these little pips and squeaks when he fingers you— it’s just too cute for words. He totally shares some pictures with Horangi as thanks. (Which might lead to a couple of other colorful character asking to see pictures of you).

Usually he fucks your soft, fuzzy thighs to get off. He’s so warm and heavy against your clit, his cockhead practically reaching your chest. He paints your tits with white, pearly ribbons that glisten against the fuzz of your chest.

If you’re on top, he likes watching your useless wings beat while you slide your wet little cunt over him, the ridge of his head making you shiver when it bumps against your clit. You usually end up making yourself cum once or twice, and when you’re too tired and sensitive to move yourself he’ll grab your waist and grind you against him, using you like a toy to get himself off.

You don’t spread your wings often, but when you do, it leaves a little bit of moth dust behind from the tiny scales you shed. König thinks it’s so cute to see it against his bedsheets— it’s like glittery fresh snow, proof of how excited he made you.

[welcometohell09]

That thing that Gets me about Timebomb, both platonically and romantically, is that Ekko doesn't need to love or care about Jinx, but he does so anyway. Jinx is emotionally fucked to the point of barely being able to sustain any form of relationship, she destroys the things she cares about when she doesn't mean to, she pushes everyone away and she self-destructs. Ekko has absolutely no reason to care beyond maybe a memory of them being friends as kids, but he chooses—actively—to look for her when she disappears from her cell.

He also doesn't obsess over the arbitrary distinction between Powder and Jinx in the same way other characters, including Jinx, do; Jinx becomes Jinx to protect herself from being Powder and Silco encourages it, Vi (in S1) separates Jinx from her little sister so she can 'save' Powder, but Ekko watched as she chose to become who she did—he probably saw her grenades start to work, her fighting abilities improve, her hair grow out and her reputation take root, if only from a distance—and accepts it as a part of a whole person. He doesn't care whether she is the kind, arguably less traumatised Powder—like in the alternate dimension—or Jinx, because to him it's just her. She's brilliant. She's awesome. In Ekko's eyes, she's not just worthy of being loved, but she's worthy of being chosen to be loved and held on to when she hasn't done anything 'for' him.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

xviii  ⊹ ࣪ ˖  Deja Vu 

Series mlist 

Tags — cliche I fear, mentions of violence, mentions of alcohol, possibly offensive humour (?) 

Words — 2.1k 

You elbowed your way through groups of people, ignoring the disgruntled looks sent in your direction. You suddenly felt completely sober, the fuzziness in your mind replaced by sheer panic. Toges text repeated over and over in your mind, the possibilities forming into endless images and scenarios. As much as you wish you didn’t, you knew exactly who they were talking about. Megumi and Kamo. 

The string lights hung around the yard did little to illuminate the space, the primary source of light being whatever leaked out from the house. When the brisk outdoor air hit you, your eyes darted around, very quickly recognizing where they were. It was pretty obvious, with the crowded people and nauseating sounds of the altercation. 

Panda, being the tallest of the bunch, was the first you spotted. You used him like a landmark as you weaved your way around, joining your group of friends near the centre of the action. When you were met with the sight before you, you felt as if you’d travelled back in time. There he was, in all of his glory. Blood trickling down the side of his face, though he looked to be in a much better condition than his opponent. Megumi versus Noritoshi, a fight driven by irrational jealousy and the effects of alcohol. His knuckles were battered, the crimson evidence of his rage staining the skin over the joints. 

He was just about to pull his fist back; just about to land another hit on the man, but then his eyes met yours. They softened, undeniably so, his grip on Kamo’s shirt loosening and arm lowering. Noritoshi took this opportunity to roughly pull from his grasp, giving Megumi a shove backwards on his way. He briefly passed you as he shoved through the crowd, retreating from the scene. 

“Control your dog,” he spat roughly before leaving you slack jawed and blinking in your place. Your eyes hadn’t moved from Megumi, the world around you seeming to dissipate, leaving just the two of you. You longed to reach out to him—no, your soul longed for him, longed to feel the touch and unity of his presence. 

By what seemed like muscle memory you moved forward, grabbing Megumi’s hand and ignoring the worried shouts of your friends. The warmth of his palm–or was that blood?–pressed gently into yours, the only thing keeping you grounded as you guided him away from the people. He followed you into the house without a second thought, blinded by trust, intoxication, and familiarity all in one. You’d been here before, he knew the drill. 

The familiar muggy atmosphere greeted you as you rushed through different rooms, the building seeming like a maze as you so desperately tried to find a washroom that wasn’t occupied by students, either puking or too immersed in each other to even notice you barging in. 

He trailed behind you like a lost puppy dog the entire time. He didn’t speak a word, he didn’t know if he knew how to anymore. Honestly, he was scared. Scared to speak to you, scared that if he dared to open his mouth everything would come spilling out. The bits of him he kept tucked away deep inside were itching to reveal themselves, crawling up his throat and making it tighten with the threat of guilty tears. He could barely face you. He felt like such a complete and total asshole. Ignore you for a week, snap at you, ignore you for another week, then almost kiss you and fight your boyfriend (as he’d begun referring to him as) in the same night? Who even was he? He felt as if he’d regressed years, being the same immature brat he’d been the first time he lost you except much more angry and much more aware. Shame gnawed at him like a plague, eating him from the inside out. Not that he necessarily knew himself very well beforehand, but any grasp of his character seemed to be lost the moment he saw you with… him. 

Finally, after countless trips down hallways and up flights of stairs, you found a place. A small tile washroom with a flickering light above the sink, chilly and empty. It didn’t do much to lighten the mood as you guided him in, your hand parting from his and leaving him feeling oddly empty as he sat on the low marble counter. 

He may as well have been a mime, dead silent as he watched you search the inventory of the room for a cloth. You muttered something under your breath, he couldn’t hear you. His ears rang with anxiety and his own thoughts, growing louder and louder until they were screaming at him. ‘You fucked it all up. You’re such an idiot. No wonder she chose him.’ 

“You’re so stupid,” you huffed, extending to your full height with a washcloth in hand. Well, he knew that already. 

“Mm,” he replied, a lazy hum. He couldn’t find it in himself to respond, let alone argue. There wasn’t a point, you were right anyway. 

Suddenly you were fourteen again, scolding him for getting into yet another fight. Yet again he’d developed some rivalry with your newest love interest, for reasons you couldn’t understand. He wished you did, that would’ve made this so much easier. Despite your anger and hurt, your hands were gentle and warm, every press of the warm wet cloth against his skin a soft caress. 

“I don’t– I don’t get you, Megumi,” you began, deciding to focus intently on your handiwork to avoid looking at him. If you saw that desperate, intent look on his face, you knew you’d break. You couldn’t, not yet. Though the only thing he was thinking was that you’d said his name, the familiar syllables rolling from your tongue with ease. Just like it had when he’d gotten ahead of himself, when he’d almost kissed you. He hated the way your voice sounded when you said his last name, made something bitter swirl in his gut. 

“You’ve been so weird lately.” Your voice was soft, almost afraid. It was a tone he hadn’t heard from you before, and he hated to be the cause of it. “You walk back into my life and everything is normal, great even. We spend months getting close and I’m actually happy, and you aren’t weird at all, in fact, you’re nicer to me than anyone. Then you completely shut me out, and you won’t even tell me why. You tell me you can’t, I don’t buy it,” you took a shaky breath. Your hand had stilled, simply hovering in the air. “And then you almost kissed me, and–and then you leave. You– I–..” you began to stutter, blinking away unshed tears. His heart clenched, feeling unfamiliar and afraid. He’d only seen you cry twice, the first being he’d found you alone in the rain on a dark stormy night and the second being when he’d taken you to see some sad dog movie (which he’d insisted wasn’t a date). You never spoke of the former after that. 

“[name],” he whispered. Someone should’ve started tallying how much he’d said that tonight, you were sure they’d have a full page by now. That wasn’t a bad thing, though. 

“Do you like me or not? I’m sick of this back and forth and I’m sick of using Kamo as a distraction and I’m sick of feeling like this just because you’re a ‘coward’. Am I too much? I just need you to tell—“ 

“If you want me to tell you, you have to let me speak,” he cut you off, taking the hand holding the cloth and gently pushing it away. “You aren’t too much. That’s the thing about you, you’re just you and it’s just right. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I’m a coward. It’s just– you make me feel all of these things and I hate it, makes me feel weak. I am. You make me weak and you always have, fuck– it’s been this way since middle school.” 

You drew in a breath, trying to process his words. The effects of the alcohol lingered, but the both of you had somewhat sobered up by now. 

“You deserve better. You… you deserve everything. I can’t give you that, maybe Kamo can. I see why you went for him and that’s what hurts the most,” he whispered, voice oddly gentle. His throat felt tight and he had to stop speaking or else you’d notice the way his eyes stung, voice cracking. He was always a sad, clingy drunk. 

“Can’t you see? I don’t want better. There isn’t better for me, Megumi. I haven’t even spoken to Kamo since you stopped talking to me because I realized that,” you said, a weak sob chasing your words. He stared at you, wide eyed and ridiculously pretty as he tried to process what you were saying. He wanted to believe you, but could he? 

“I’ve always loved you. Maybe if you payed more attention to that instead of swinging at every guy that glances in my direction, this could’ve gone much smoother.” 

“… you love me?” 

“Too soon?” 

“No,” he shook his head. “I just… don’t understand, I guess. I’m not exactly one to be loved.”

“Don’t say that. You’re wrong. So wrong it’s laughable, actually,” you said, feeling your lip tremble as a soft, almost sad smile crossed your face. 

You didn’t realize when you’d gotten so close. You were brought back to a few hours before, when you’d almost gotten this until todo had sauntered by. But now you were in the secluded peace of the shabby tile restroom, not the most romantic place, but that was the last thing on your minds. 

Your lips met gently, almost chaste before parting. He breathed, “I’m sorry, are you sure you–“ 

“Please.”

It was barely enough time to breathe before he was surging forward once again, this time far more passionate and with a desperation he wasn’t even sure resided in him until that very moment. You wanted him to kiss you. No, you wanted him period. He wanted to kick himself for not noticing, for spending literal years believing someone like you couldn’t feel for him as he felt for you. 

His bruised hand caressed the nape of your neck, the other slithering around your waist and tugging you closer. His brows were furrowed, the love radiating from him so deep it formed a crease between them. You both tasted like booze and the music still shook the floor with every beat, but every bit of it washed away with every passing second of his lips on yours. 

You craved him like a vampire lusted for blood, and he kissed you like a deserted man that had found his oasis. It was sloppy and messy and filled with want, teeth occasionally clashing in your drunken frenzy. You didn’t feel drunk, though, you felt more aware than you ever had in your life. In that moment you were sure he was the love of your life, and you could see the years ahead stretching before you like a calendar all planned out. You wanted to see his hair grow grey and his wisdom form lines on his face, you wanted to spend the rest of your life holding him like this. His black locks of hair were soft between your fingers, and he let out a gentle groan against your lips as you tugged. His teeth dragged over your bottom lip and you shuddered, feeling goosebumps erupt all over your skin. 

When you parted, all he could do was look at you. Almost curiously, he ran a thumb over your bottom lip, right where he’d nibbled just a moment before. 

When he met your eyes, he realized he had forgotten to say something rather important back. It was hard to say, felt as if it was stuck in his throat, but the buzz he had helped. 

“I love you,” he said, voice suddenly hoarse. He stood by the idea that you deserved better than him, you deserved more. But just this once, he wanted to be selfish. 

When you dived back in for another taste of him, you swore the declaration had made his lips taste sweeter. Sweet and soft and undeniably him, just like you liked it. 

Taglist !�� —

@1l-ynn @meowymeowbreow @missunrise @kiss-my-asscheeks @starrysho @good-mourning0 @gumims @beaniesayshi @mrowwww @luvvmae @megumislovedoll @azharyy @starsryi @tibibibi123 @idkidk32 @dazaisfavgf @tlissablr @vi0let-writes @walllflowerrrsss @sh0ot1ngst4r @blubearxy @tvnamayo @san-it-is-i-guess @harryzcherry @vivienne-jo

finally. Holy shit. I think there’ll be one more chapter after this?? Maybe two, then it’ll be 20 even I’ll see ending this feels like a divorce

[mayday396]

To @greatgigintheskiess

It's been awhile, so I prepared a Short Story showing off the Reworked versions of the Warrior Giant/Giant Papa and Seth, tiny kid and Giant Slayer.

They were placed into my main original story "Yinpunk" while they not the main focused Characters of the story, they are Important side characters and this is one part of the Script planned in their side story.

Enjoy!

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Under the Biolux Lanterns in the skies floating from Serico's Borders to the Mountains of Svyatogor, a Giant that stood as high as the Human cliff Townships , he was adorned with old but polished lamellar cuirass on top of his Western shirt with snap fastenings and trousers were made out of wool, the giant's skin was Pale to Icy Blue same goes his somber eyes deep in Pondering thoughts.

The Giant caressed the scales on his neck before looking back on the Lantern Lit sky, Snow was piling up on top of his Hardee hat as he sat on his favorite peak, the Altitude was thin enough that only trained individuals can climb through threshold, it was Silent, with what he did he thought he only deserves this Silence.

"Po..Pops?"

The Giant did not hear him.

"D...Dad...I uhm..."

The Human meekly approached his Father, he winced a little as he placed his left hand on his ribs then used the other to lightly Pat his rough Icy Blue Hands,

"бацька?"

He heard him, the instant turn of the massive Beast's head made the Human stumble to the icy ground and back away to a rock as he stared at those Hands, Teeth and Eyes, he couldn't help it those instincts that he almost forgot about for 5 years came back at full force with his Hands on his Dagger, his breathing increased, he was ready to draw the blade whenever that hand got close.

"Seth?...."

His words was the only thing that made him calm, his Body was saying otherwise. On the Other Hand, for the Giant, he didn't notice him at first as he was deep in thought, he wasn't aware that he bared his fangs at him and nearly grabbed him to kill, by the time he realized....he has broken a bone of his Kid's body.

He was doing the same again, he was hurting his little boy again...not again....Not again. They stared at each other for a moment before they both turned away, before Seth had the courage to speak up,

"I...I just wanted you to see what I can do..."

The Human looked up at his Father before backing down and continuing,

"You're right I'm not good at a Sword...nor a bow or even a gun, but I'm trying...and....I...I just wanted to show you all the cool things I learnt with the Nagara....and-..."

He paused a little as he heard his giant father growl, to him he wasn't listening to him and so he shouted at him with what little Anger he could muster up to be heard,

"And!......and I don't just need my slingshot and dagger, I want to do MORE..and you told me I couldn't and I had to sUpPORt you from the back

I..

I JUST WANTED TO PROVE TO YOU OF ALL PEOPLE THAT I CAN PULL OFF THOSE SKIL- AH!"

The Human gasped in shock as the Giant punched a cliffside boulder, the fact the Boulder did not shatter into chunks hell pebbles proves he was holding back, he looked at his son for a moment that looked away as to not scare him further, he replied to him with Magical lines of sentences forming in around them,

"You...didn't prove a n y t h i n g"

"You put yourself in danger, risked your Life for an Operation that went well BUT YOU COULD'VE DIED!"

"Seth I'm not MAD at what you did, I'm...LIVID at the fact you decided to be a дурак and NOT TELL ME...."

"I..I didn't want to...you would've told me no!"

"EXACTLY YOU FUMBLED WITH YOUR SPELLS, YOUR SWORD ARM IS..."

Seth looked away in fear and anger, he was beyond scared now and his Father, Anatoly, realised he shouldn't point out mistakes now, he calmed himself and told Seth,

"Sure you outdid yourself Congratulations...but if I weren't there to catch you before you hit the ground or worse.....I'll be planning another funeral without a body in a casket"

Seth's eyes went wide a little before looking at his Dad, they were both on the verge of Tears, these flying magical Words were the things his father wanted to say to him but he can't...he had a lifelong injury.

Anatoly wanted to comfort his kid for basically yelling at him magically, he wanted to hold him, caress him, tell him that he still loves him, that's what he did no matter how it hurts to talk

"I...I..m...so..rry"

Seth heard him, his tortured voice, some blood was coming out of his mouth, Seth rarely hears him...and he too wanted to hug his fingers but every instinct of his body says no and could only look at his Dad apologetically,

"I don't hate you....Pops.... I didn't meant to say that...earlier"

The Giant closed his eyes and nod before standing up, looking at his shivering kid, he wanted to reach out to hold him but he knew he couldn't there was not enough to heal that wound, instead he placed a cotton blanket on him and walked away as an olive branch before walking down the Mountain and back to the City.

They both needed space at least for awhile.

Do you know what's even better than parental g/t? Angst in parental g/t.

Imagine that, a giant adopts a tiny child when they're a baby. The kid was raised by their giant their whole life - they never feared their parent and couldn't understand why other kids that did.

But the kid grows up to be a teen. We all know what teens are like: they argue with their parents, don't obey, say the most outrageous and mean stuff.

The giant parent was always patient with their tiny teen, but they slowly start to loose their cool.

One day the giant parent and the tiny teen have a huge argument. The teen says something so harmful to their parent that they completely loose their cool.

The giant grabs their kid and yells at them, while holding them in a tight grip.

It's the first time the tiny teenager saw their parent so mad. The giant was freaking terrifying.

The teen starts crying and apologizing and begging for their parent not to hurt them.

That's when the parent realizes how much they have screwed up.

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Inspired by: @greatgigintheskiess

[lu-is-not-ok]

Hello there! My friend introduced me to the Daiyu/Baoyu theory recently and I repaid them by immediately becoming crazy about Soda Hong Lu. Have you looked at Soda Hong Lu in the lens of this theory? Because half joking about this:

1. It is the only EGO that I can recall that features a transformation type sequence

2. In the corrosion, two shrimps attempt to check on the hallucinating Hong Lu/Body; he destroys them in the frenzy

3. It is an EGO that Hong Lu strangely has no Identities for in regards to archetype, Poise, and is one of the EGO for which Hong Lu has a dull eye. (Next Walpur might outdate this one but still squinting at it)

4. It is an Envy EGO, the sin associated with. Yknow.

5. In the pull animation, a shrimp is inexplicably focused on, crying from the same side Hong Lu's jade eye is on.

Idk if this is totally out of the ballpark here, but I'm seeing Soda as an EGO that represents Daiyu being dragged onto the 'boat', that being the family, as Baoyu guiltily observes, barely keeping it together under the idea that the 'boat' is the "better life" as seen on the log for Wellcheers in LCorp. They want to be able to pretend that the transformation is something that'll bring them fortune, just another process in the façade, but as the corrosion shows, one slip will doom them into inconsolable panic. It is an EGO that demands you provide to the group, but it is hanging by a thread. Do you see my logic. Shrimp Jia Family.

So, I'm gonna put it this way.

The things you pointed out about Soda? Huge. Like, they do definitely point towards something and I have my own interpretation of them to share.

Your interpretation of the EGO... I feel like it misses the mark a bit, but that's okay, because it very much can still be about the Two in One Daiyu Baoyu of it all in a way, thanks to the things you pointed out.

Let me explain.

Soda, both for Ryoshu and Hong Lu, is symbolic for their escapism, while also having some major themes of Reality/Fiction.

To briefly show what I mean by explaining Ryoshu's Soda - her form of escapism is that of indulging in the cruel Reality. Note how her Soda focuses on the Wellcheers drink itself - she uses the soda itself to attack, and in the corrosion she turns into the soda as well. Her EGO focuses on the cruel Reality that Wellcheers is a soda company that only cares about people consuming their product, she literally forces her target to drink it in her Awakening animation. Her Corrosion then focuses on the Fictionalization of that Reality, on the rumors that the soda can lead you to wake up on a ship in the middle of an ocean.

This isn't a Ryoshu post though, so if any Ryoshu scholars want to add onto this with their own interpretation of how that connects to Ryoshu's art and how she wishes to reflect reality in all its cruelty, be my guests.

Now, back to Hong Lu's Soda - for him, escapism is the reverse. He indulges in Fiction, his EGO reflecting the life shown in hypothetical Wellcheers' advertisements, happily fishing for shrimp among prawn on a ship in the middle of an ocean, surrounded by seagulls. Then, his Corrosion is the Realization of that Fiction, of what it would be like to actually live on a ship like that, having to hear seagulls scream and run away from you.

And this is where the details you pointed out come in. Because they made me realize something.

The 'Fiction' being symbolized by Soda? It's Hong Lu's current life as 'Hong Lu'.

Here's the thing about the Daiyu Baoyu theory - one of its many parts is that Hong Lu as a person does not exist. 'Hong Lu' is a fake persona. He's not a real person with an actual history, it's a character made up and played by Baoyu to cope with being forced to override Daiyu.

After all, it's not until after Canto 4, where Hong Lu becomes aware of Yi Sang's attempts of calling for help, that he starts actually saying concerning things. Until then he's tried his fucking hardest to make it seem like his homelife is as uneventful as a sheltered rich kid's homelife could be, with the anecdotes only getting more and more actually fucked up when it became clear his turn drew closer. Perhaps because that's what Hong Lu as an act was originally supposed to be - a rich kid like Baoyu but without his baggage, without his trauma. Until he started getting desperate and realizing that he too needs help, but couldn't ask directly without revealing he'd been lying this whole time, so instead he's sprinkling in more and more concerning things hoping Someone Will Get The Hint.

That little tangent aside, I believe this is what the magical girl transformation in the Awakening is meant to symbolize - Baoyu indulging in the Fiction of his new made up persona that is Hong Lu. After all, if you think about it, isn't it a common trope in magical girl shows for the girls to use pseudonyms and keep their true identities secret while transformed? Isn't that exactly what Baoyu is doing while he's acting as Hong Lu?

With that in mind, the prawn that gets focused on in the acquisition animation, the one randomly crying out of the equivalent of Hong Lu's jade eye, could be a little reference to the fact that under the act Baoyu is Fucking Miserable.

And then there's the matter of the ship. If the transformation sequence is a reflection of Baoyu becoming Hong Lu, then what is the ship about?

...It's the bus. The ship is Limbus Company's Bus.

Soda as an E.G.O symbolizes Baoyu's escapism via becoming Hong Lu aboard Limbus Company's Bus, getting carried around to "fish for shrimp" or perhaps hunt for Boughs.

Then there's the Corrosion. The seagulls screaming and crying all around him. The genuine anxiety and panic in his voice (listen to the original file for the voiceline without the effects if you can btw, it's so well acted - you can find it in the Organized Assets drive). The way others try to check up on him and he instead lashes out at them. How the animation seems to purposefully hide the actual enemies being hit so that it seems on first glance like the only things he's attacking are fellow prawn.

Ya'll... this could be another Distortion foreshadowing. Think about it. The realization that his escapist Fiction isn't enough, that the horrible reality he's living in has started to poke through and scream at him and cry at him. And the resulting breakdown causing him to lash out indiscriminately. ...Doesn't that sound like something that could happen with a Distortion?

Alternately, it could simply be a way to show in general what would happen once the act is stripped from Hong Lu. The fear, the panic. The pushing others away. A representation of someone whose escapism is a defense mechanism, and who, upon being stripped of it, cannot handle reality.

So, sorry to say Shrimp Jia Family is likely not the case. Thankfully, we can have the alternative of Shrimp Sinners.

On the other hand, here's a fun semi-related fun fact: the Sin Affinities of the Soda EGOs could in part be references to the two work types you can perform on the Abno to get the grape soda! Gloom representing Repression work, and Envy representing Attachment work. Neat, huh?

[levi-4uckerman]

satoru gojo x reader // secret pregnancy fic reveal // reader self insert

like ghosts in the snow // synopsis: Nearly three years ago, Reader vanished from the jujutsu world without a trace. Guarding a secret that could upend both the life she’s built and the one she left behind, she’s taken refuge in a quiet, snowy mountain cottage on the other side of the world. But the past can’t stay buried forever, and the ghosts she's tried to avoid are beginning to stir.

CH1 TWs: male masturbation, explicit sexual content, graphic descriptions of sex, original characters used, secret pregnancy, mention of young children, mention of past character death, possible manga spoilers, blah blah blah. enjoy :)

side note before we dig in! I know y'all hate a YN so the reader has been given a random japanese name. welcome to ur new life as Shiori Myoji :)

You sat alone in your cabin, staring at the flickering fire. The wind howled outside, shaking the windows and piling snow high against the panes. You barely noticed. Winter had come early this year, though the townsfolk chalked it up to the unpredictable nature of the mountains. You held a half-empty teacup, the liquid long since gone cold. Your fingers trembled slightly as you gripped its handle, though you told yourself it was just from the chill in the air. 

The fire crackled on, and your thoughts drifted like smoke, pulling you backward through time as you stared into the hypnotizing flames.

…

The first time you saw Satoru Gojo as human was at the ceremony following Suguru’s death, a private event held at Tokyo Jujutsu High after hours. There weren’t many guests, but the crowd was big enough that he hadn’t seen you at first. You’d stood at the edge, out of the way, your umbrella shielding you from the rain pouring down like the sky was in mourning, too. 

You hadn’t planned to approach him. What could you have said? The strongest sorcerer in the world, staring at the ground as though he could will himself to fall through it– what words could you possibly offer? Anything that crossed your mind felt hollow, tasted meaningless on your tongue. 

Yet, still, you approached. Those bright blue eyes had landed on you and you were drawn in, like a moth to flame. Your feet were moving before you realized what you’d done. 

“Shi-chan, you’re staring,” he chided, his voice sounding hollow. “Didn’t think you cared.”

“I don’t,” you replied, aware that you both knew it was a lie.

It always was.

He smiled, soft but genuine– like he was just grateful for your company. You nodded, letting him take what he wanted from the gesture. 

The relationship you’d had after wasn’t supposed to mean anything. A week of stolen moments, grief shared in the only way either of you knew how. You sought solace in each other’s arms, filling the empty spaces that Suguru had left behind. You told yourself that it wasn’t real, that it was just a way to cope. Was that a lie, too? 

That week had changed everything. And two months later, when you realized you were pregnant, you knew that there was no going back. 

…

The sound of Haruto stirring in his sleep pulled you back to the present. The cabin’s quiet stillness wrapped tightly around you as you set down your teacup, your fingers still slightly shaking as you stepped toward your sleeping son, curled around his stuffed rabbit. He was so small, so peaceful– and yet, every time you looked at him, it was like staring into the past. Your big, scary past. 

His hair, white as the snow outside… his eyes, that same piercing shade of blue that gazed at you from across classrooms, found you in crowded hallways buried deep in your memory… Sometimes, if you looked at him just right, he even had his father’s stubborn smirk. Sometimes it was enough to make your heart ache. 

You didn’t regret leaving– you wouldn’t let yourself. You’d made the choice for Haruto, for Satoru, for humanity– he deserved a childhood free from the crushing weight of the Hojo name, free from the dangers of being blown into a world of curses. And Satoru…

He didn’t need the burden of fatherhood, another anchor to his already heavy chains. 

He didn’t stop you when you left.

Your breath caught in your throat. You told yourself not to think about him, not to wonder where he was or what he was doing. You’d left him behind, you’d left everything behind, but the truth lingered. Sharp and bitter in the back of your throat. You’d run because you were afraid. Afraid for the part of you that wanted to believe that Satoru might have chosen you and the life growing inside of you over everything else. 

But you’d seen the threads of fate. Tangled, cruel, impossible to ignore. You left because you couldn’t bear to watch him choose the world over you. 

…

The fire snapped sharply, loud enough to make you jump. The flames cast dancing shadows against the walls, and you felt a familiar prickling at your scalp as you watched them move. It wasn't a vision, but a feeling, a suggestion that something may be on the horizon. You closed your eyes, trying to will fate’s whisper into a conversation, but it remained quiet– imperceptible. Glimpses came to you in flickering waves, an apparition at the edge of your mind… someone tall, broad-shouldered, with eyes like the sky…

Your chest tightened as you pushed the thought away with a gasp, forcing yourself to focus on the crackling fire and the sound of howling wind outside. 

“Shi-chan,” an older voice called softly from the adjoining room. “Are you still awake? It’s well past midnight.”

“Aya-san,” you replied, withdrawing your hand from your son’s hair. “Did I wake you?”

“No, child. The storm did.” Aya stepped lightly into the room, moving with the ease of someone used to late-night watches. She lowered herself onto the armchair by Haruto, dimming the table lamp and casting soft shadows across her face. 

Aya Takahashi, formerly Zenin– she’d sought an escape from the troubling world of jujutsu, same as you. Born into the infamous Zenin clan with a powerful technique, she had built her life around the expectations of her lineage… until she met her late husband. He was a non-sorcerer whom she'd fallen in love with devastatingly quickly. Their love was defiant in the eyes of the Zenins, and Aya chose him over their approval. They ran away together, knowing the cost of their love, only for her spiteful relatives to come for them both, bringing their marriage to a sudden, violent end. 

Aya lost her husband that day.

She ran away to this sleepy, mountainside town out west, hoping that its wild, untamed cursed energy would mask her signature. For thirty years, she had been successful. When she came across you and Haruto, barely ten months old at the time, she saw herself in your struggle, and she knew... she couldn’t walk away. 

And gods bless her soul, she didn’t.

Aya had become such an unassuming yet steady presence in your life—a former sorceress who had left her old life behind and found solace in this small, secluded town just like you had.

The arrangement had begun with practicality, but Aya’s quiet strength and experience had turned her into a figure of comfort, almost a guardian. Her motherly tendencies extended to you as much as to Haruto, though she rarely showed her cards outright.

Aya studied you for a moment, her expression knowing. “Something tells me you haven’t slept yet,” she hummed, reaching to turn on the television as if to settle in for a watchful night.

You studied her with a hint of reluctance, knowing exactly what she intended. “Aya-san, you really don’t have to—”

“Go and rest, Shiori.” Her voice was gentle, but her tone left no room for debate. “I’ll be here if the boy wakes.”

“But I—,”

The look she gave you, one full of quiet insistence, spoke louder than any further protests you could make.

With a resigned sigh, you shook your head and accepted the fate she’d laid out for you, the comfort of her presence an unspoken balm. You relented and bid her goodnight, resting a comforting hand on Haruto’s little head before walking away. 

…

In Tokyo, Satoru Gojo was feeling a similar kind of anxiety. 

Ryomen Sukuna had a vessel. The thought of it alone made his jaw clench tightly. It was unprecedented, unpredictable, and as far as he was concerned, a major pain in the ass. There were no protocols for this sort of thing— well, maybe one, but that was the last thing he wanted. “I can’t let them kill him,” he muttered to himself, tone sharp as nails. “He’s just a kid.”

He leaned back in his office chair, staring out at the Tokyo skyline with mild interest. His head pulsed with a day-old migraine as he studied the tiny flares of cursed energy erupting in short bursts across the city's grid. The presence of curses and the activity of curse users had become more erratic than usual, flickering in the depths of the city like embers waiting to be ignited. It had only gotten worse since Sukuna's fingers entered the equation; like all of Japan was holding its breath. Even with his technique, Satoru was struggling to keep up with the endless spikes of energy on the horizon. His head throbbed, his senses constantly assaulted until finally, he pulled the blinds closed. 

Satoru sighed. He hadn't been this on edge in a very long time, not since...

He dismissed the thought, reaching for a bottle of painkillers nearby and rattling it in a last-ditch effort to dull the throbbing in his skull. He popped two in his mouth and swallowed them dry before running a broad palm over his face, a low groan slipping out as he reached his lips. "This is fucking stupid," he muttered, voice muffled by his hand.

With a sigh, he pushed himself out of the chair and stretched his long arms above his head, joints stiff and aching from too many hours of vigilance and too little rest. He hated to even consider leaving campus, knowing that Yuuji-- no. Sukuna was here. Yuuji had done well in controlling the king of curses since they had started training, but the thought of leaving him alone still left Satoru uneasy. Could he really turn his back on him?...

Yes, he decided, as his eyes caught sight of his phone screen flashing the time: 3:55pm. He hadn't slept a wink in over 40 hours, a reckless oversight even by his standards. His Six Eyes needed rest, and he'd be no use to anyone-- especially against Sukuna --if he burned out completely. I can leave. Just for a few hours.

With a tired sigh, he dialed his assistant. “Ijichi,” he sang half heartedly into his cell, his voice missing some of its usual playfulness. “I’m going home.”

Ijichi's protests were immediate, though muffled through the receiver. Satoru didn't bother listening. He slipped the phone into his back pocket without even hanging up, ignoring the last few sputters of "--but Gojo-san!"

Stretching his limbs once more, he felt the weight of exhaustion settling into his bones. It wasn't like him to abandon his post so early into the afternoon, but he wouldn't be of any use in this state. Half-blind, staggering through a haze of pain. The pounding behind his eyes was growing unbearable, his senses dulling with each passing minute. 

With one last glance at the skyline, Satoru exhaled, letting his shoulders drop just slightly. It was strange, the guilt that had begun creeping in these days, as if his raw determination alone would be enough to protect humanity from Sukuna's dark influence. But at his core, he knew that if he wasn't sharp, if he wasn't fully there, then he was no more than a tired body standing watch. 

Humanity deserved better than that. 

Yuuji deserved better than that. 

…

In his apartment, Satoru wandered thoughtlessly into his bedroom, tossing aside his phone, his wallet, his blindfold, and all of the other little trinkets he carried on the job. The blinds were drawn and the room was dark; still, he manipulated the pitch black space seamlessly, thankful for the small mercy of darkness. He migrated to his shower-- something else he'd been putting off. 

The hot stream of water-- scalding against his porcelain skin --was healing. Following the contours of his body, mapping the planes of his muscles as it traveled across his skin. The rich scent of his body wash hung thickly in the air, cutting through 40 hours' worth of sweat and frustration. With a sigh, he bowed his head, letting it all fall into his eyes, mouth. 

What the fuck had happened to him? 

Being alone was something he still struggled with. He'd once thought of Suguru as the only person who could possibly understand the isolation that followed his responsibilities as the strongest. But Suguru was gone, had been gone longer even than he'd been dead, and all that was left now was... Satoru and his sadness? Longing? He didn't know what he was feeling. 

Remorse? 

"You promise you won’t regret this?"

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Eyes snapping open, he reared his head back. Infinity kept him from losing his balance, thankfully, but didn't stop the way he wobbled a bit on his feet with the emotional whiplash he'd just received from that memory. That voice. 

He exhaled, long and slow, steam swirling in the dimmed light. His pulse quickened just slightly as the memory returned to him in living color, as if he were reliving it-- naked and vulnerable. 

A laugh-- soft like morning mist. Perfume dancing across his senses, igniting warmth within his chest. He felt her  presence even here, in the sanctuary of his mind. 

Shiori Myoji. The Clairvoyance User. 

The quiet, mundane memory came to him suddenly-- like his pain had picked the lock to a door he'd forgotten long ago. She was sitting on the edge of a windowsill in the Jujutsu High dorms, delicate fingers cradling a cup of tea. He sat beside her, much too close, with a large hand resting on her covered thigh. She was blushing, and he remembered the way it made his heart race. Has anyone ever done that before? 

Has anyone ever done that... since? 

"You're incorrigible,"  she scolded lightly, though the light smile upon her lips told him all that he needed to know. With a glance toward the halls, assuring there would be no witnesses, she leaned into him and he did the same, capturing her mouth in a tender kiss.

Fuck, she was always so soft. So calm. The kind of calm he pretended that he was, but had never really felt. Only in these moments, did she ever seem to look at him. Usually, her gaze extended into a space that he couldn't see-- a space that no one occupied, as if she were seeing something that he couldn't. 

The water hit his shoulders harder now, as if trying to call him back to the present. He straightened, shaking his head as if that could wash away the memory of her. As if it were something that could be scrubbed away as easily as sweat and blood from his skin. 

But she lingered, as she always seemed to do. She'd been away for too long for him to still think of her. She was a distraction at the time, something they both craved desperately. That is what she was, wasn't she? His distraction. His excuse. His anchor when the weight of Suguru's passing had threatened to tilt him off-balance. She was his-- then, now, whether she knew it or not. 

His, because he couldn't let her be anything else.

Yes, a voice in his head purred. Yours, it agreed— languid and sweet, sounding suspiciously like her. 

She was an addiction he’d been more than willing to rid himself of— even if it hurt like pouring salt into a wound. He’d love to say that he didn’t feel it, or that it paled in comparison to the pain of killing his best friend, but that simply wasn’t true. He’d grown attached to her warmth, her quiet strength, the mutual understanding of their own responsibilities as sorcerers. She’d been an enigma to him in high school, a close friend as an adult, and now? A ghost. A shadow. Someone who knew him intimately, someone whose taste hadn’t left his mouth since the last time his tongue was inside of her— because only he knew her so intimately, too. 

Only he had been privy to the way that her brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and disgust when he said something lewd, the way her cheeks would darken at the slightest mention of their extracurricular affairs, igniting a fire in the pit of Satoru’s belly each time. Only he got to see the spit-slick part of her lips when she came, her wet heat wrapped so tightly around his member that he’d nearly blacked out at the force of his own orgasm. Only he knew that it was like that every. Single. Time. with her, like they were both squirming virgins experimenting with strange new feelings. 

Except Satoru had never felt so enthralled with a lover before, and he never would again— something he’d come to terms with after trying and failing to fill the void she left in his life as his ‘distraction’. That’s all she was.

Right?

“Fuck,” he muttered through clenched teeth as he recalled her image in near-perfect clarity, spread out above his sheets— moaning softly, gasping his name when he fucked her just right. “Fucking shit.”

Satoru took himself in his hand, letting the water cascade down his back as he hunched over, pressing his forehead against the cool tile as he recalled more. Her dainty fingers tangled in his hair as she writhed beneath him, bucking her hips against his pelvis and fucking herself on his cock. Broken whispers of ‘Satoru, please,’ as her walls contracted around him, milking his seed into her waiting womb. The taste of her sweat on his tongue, salty and sweet, while he sucked his little purple love bites into her skin. He’d spell out his fucking name with them if he could. 

He’d carve it into her flesh with his teeth if she’d let him. 

Feelings Satoru had never experienced before her— or after her — flooded his senses. The hollow ache of desperation as he craved her warmth, the bitter taste of jealousy as he thought of her with anyone else, the crushing weight of grief when he remembered she was gone—

“Fucking miss you,” he spat, pumping desperately into his own fist, slick with prespend. “Fucking miss the way you feel.”

In his mind’s eye, Shiori writhes underneath him, pinned to the mattress by his weight. Her fingers tangle into his hair as he fucks into her, hard and fast, carving out a space just for him. He’s grunting along with his thrusts, her pretty little gasps coming out in broken hiccups. They’re hiding in the campus dorms again and they have to be quiet; she muffles a loud cry against his shoulder, teeth baring down into his flesh as she locks her legs around his waist with surprising ferocity, holding him so deep inside of her, and oh shit they forgot a condom—

“Fuck,” he hissed out in a sharp breath, tightening his grip on himself. The exhaustion in his bones temporarily forgotten, Satoru slammed a fist onto the wall above his head, a satisfying little crack! coming from the tile. His orgasm had nearly taken his breath away in its intensity, years of frustration and repressed feelings finally coming to a sore, bursting head. 

He stood panting in the shower stall, watching the physical evidence of his longing swirl down the drain. His head pulsed with every beat of his heart, the effort he’d exerted not mixing kindly with his already throbbing migraine. He groaned, running a hand through his slick hair, and subsequently flicking water onto the wall behind him. Fucking Shiori, he muttered to himself. 

Head swimming, Satoru emerged from the muggy bathroom several minutes later. He was still stewing over his momentary loss of control. He could have anyone he wanted, and here he was, fisting his cock to memories of an old flame. A ghost from his past. 

He’d buried her in the place he’d buried Suguru— except, the ache was different knowing that her physical form still roamed this earth. Somewhere. He could find her, if he wanted to. Maybe she'd be able to tell him what the fuck he should do, how the fuck he was going to save a 16 year old boy with an eons-old curse living inside of him. 

A plan began to unfurl inside of him, unwillingly. A first grade sorceress, gone without a trace... But all cursed energy left residuals, didn’t it? Would it really be so hard for the Six Eyes to follow her clues, hunt her down, and bring her back home? 

It wouldn’t be hard, but it wouldn’t be right, he thought. 

Last he heard, Shiori had fled west to study cursed energy manifestation in other regions. It was a convincing cover up, but given her technique and her history of omitting bigger details, he'd always assumed there were other implications to why and where she'd gone. Did she know what was happening in Tokyo? Did she see something that he didn't? 

Of course she fucking did, he scoffed, slipping a t-shirt over his bare shoulders. When didn't she? She always knew more than she let on. It had frustrated him back then, and it frustrated him even more now. The idea that she might have seen this, predicted it-- Sukuna, Yuuji, the spiraling chaos of Tokyo's curses --and had chosen to leave anyway gnawed at him. 

The truth was, he didn't want to think about why she left. Shit, he didn't want to think about her at all. But her name sat heavy on his chest now, a quiet itch he couldn't continue to ignore. If anyone could make sense of the impossible, it was her. And yet... she was gone. She'd left without so much as a goodbye, or a trace worth following. Maybe that was all of the explanation he really needed. 

Maybe that was all of the closure he’d ever get.

With a low groan, Satoru flopped onto his bed, stretching his arms out wide. He didn't get tired often, but exhaustion was settling into his bones. He closed his eyes, letting the darkness settle over him, the plan that he refused to admit beginning to stir in his minds' eye once more, unwelcome and persistent. He could find her. If he wanted to. If he needed to.

...

This is Chapter 1 of a multi-chapter fic to be crossposted to AO3. Taglist below as requested. @starlightglimmersworld @mccookiemonster @leilakaro @certainduckanchor @itsbellablue-blog @shokosbunny @hyookka @drogonfruitzen

[insidekatmind]

Meet my sister P.7-Jude Bellingham

plot: Federico Valverde wants to introduce his younger sister to Jude, his teammate. He hoped that something romantic would be born between them seeing that their characters were perfect together but things take a different turn

Federico’s house had been transformed for the occasion: soft lighting, music playing in the background, and tables full of food and drinks. The party was the perfect way to unwind after an intense week, and Federico had worked hard to ensure everything was flawless.

As the first guests started to arrive, Federico took a moment to gather his teammates in the living room, determined to set a few clear rules. He crossed his arms and gave them a stern look while they, already holding drinks, watched him with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Alright, listen up,” Federico began, his tone firm. “This party is for you guys, so have fun, but there are two things I won’t tolerate: one, anyone going overboard and causing a mess in my house; and two, anyone arguing with my sister.”

At those words, Vinicius, who was leaning casually against the couch with a drink in hand, burst out laughing. “Oh, Fede, you’re always the same! You sound like a bodyguard!” he teased, shaking his head. “No arguing with your sister, got it, Jude?” he added, throwing a pointed look at the Englishman.

Jude, who had remained stoic up until that moment, gave a sarcastic smile. “I don’t even know why you’re worried, Valverde. I’m not the problem here.”

Rodrygo, sitting next to Jude, couldn’t resist shooting him a mischievous glance. “Oh, really? You’re not the problem? Funny, because judging by how you looked at her at the restaurant, it seemed like the problem was all yours.”

“Rodrygo, shut up,” Jude muttered, shooting him a warning glare, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“See?” Federico interjected, throwing his hands up. “This is exactly the kind of behavior I don’t want to see tonight. I’m serious, Jude, don’t make me regret inviting you.”

Jude rolled his eyes. “Relax, Valverde. I can tolerate your sister for a few hours.”

“We’ll see about that,” Vinicius quipped with a sly grin. “But I bet the two of you will be clashing again before the night’s over.”

Federico sighed, shaking his head, but decided to drop the subject. “You’ve been warned. Now behave yourselves, or I’ll throw you all out.”

As Federico walked off to greet more guests, Vinicius sidled up to Jude, giving him a playful pat on the shoulder. “So, are you ready for another battle with the boss’s sister?”

“There won’t be any battles,” Jude replied coolly, though his expression betrayed a hint of curiosity.

Rodrygo chuckled softly, leaning on the armrest of the couch. “Oh, Jude, Jude… you and her are like fire and gasoline. I can’t wait to see what happens tonight.”

Jude flashed a mischievous smirk at Rodrygo’s comment, shrugging as if he didn’t care. But just as he was about to reply, his gaze wandered across the room and froze on you.

You had just walked in, chatting with one of your friends, wearing a short dress that accentuated every curve. The snug fabric and simple design highlighted your figure perfectly. Your hair was styled effortlessly, and your radiant smile caught everyone's attention. Jude couldn’t help but smirk as his eyes traveled from your head to your toes, lingering on your legs before shamelessly settling on your backside.

"Man, you're falling for it, and you don't even realize it," Vinicius whispered, barely suppressing his laughter.

Rodrygo, noticing Jude’s change in expression, nudged him on the shoulder. “Oh, look who’s completely lost his cool. Do you like what you see, Jude?” he teased, laughing.

"Shut up," Jude muttered, but the faint blush creeping up his cheeks betrayed him.

“Don’t tell us to shut up,” Kylian chimed in with a grin. “You’re the one practically undressing her with your eyes!”

Jude shot them an annoyed look but didn’t respond. Instead, his eyes drifted back to you, watching how effortlessly you moved through the crowd. For a moment, he wondered how someone could be so infuriatingly perfect.

Then, as if you sensed his stare, you turned in his direction. Your eyes met his, and Jude held your gaze with that arrogant smile of his, tilting his head slightly as if to challenge you. You raised an eyebrow, an expression you knew would fuel his irritation even more. With a faint smirk, you turned away, completely ignoring him, and resumed your conversation with your friend.

“Oh, it’s over,” Vinicius whispered, chuckling under his breath. “There’s no escape, Jude. She’s the one taming you.”

“Not a chance,” Jude shot back, shrugging as though unaffected. But deep down, he knew Vinicius wasn’t entirely wrong.

---

The music filled the air as the party continued, but you had momentarily moved toward the counter, away from the noise of the living room. You were sipping your drink, enjoying a few moments of peace, when you felt that unmistakable sensation: a gaze burning into you.

You didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

Jude had gotten up from the couch, carrying himself with that confident air that seemed to be an integral part of his personality. He approached slowly, holding a glass in his hand and wearing that mischievous smirk you knew all too well.

“Nice dress,” he began, stopping next to you, close enough for you to catch a whiff of his cologne. “Though, I have to say, it seems more like a weapon for distraction than just a piece of clothing.”

You turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. “Thanks,” you replied with a sweet but sarcastic smile. “I guess it works well for distraction, considering you seem to be the one who’s confused here.”

Jude chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Confused, me? No, I’m just observing. You know, it’s rare to see someone who enjoys provoking as much as you do without thinking of the consequences.”

“Oh, really? Because it seems like you’re the one who can’t stay away from me,” you shot back, your tone lightly teasing. “Don’t tell me you find me... interesting.”

Jude tilted his head, his eyes glinting with clear challenge. “Interesting? Maybe. Annoying? Definitely. But I’ll admit, you know how to grab attention—and not just mine.”

A laugh escaped you, genuine yet sharp. “Wow, what an honor! The great Jude Bellingham has noticed me. Too bad your ego is the only thing that’s taller than you.”

Jude narrowed his eyes slightly, holding back a smile as he stepped closer, further closing the distance between you. “And your attitude is the only thing sharper than your tongue,” he retorted.

“Well, someone has to keep you in check,” you replied with a shrug, looking at him nonchalantly.

“You? Keep me in check?” Jude shook his head incredulously. “You’re adorable when you try to dominate a conversation, you know that?”

That word, adorable, sparked something in your eyes, and Jude noticed, amused. It was a challenge he had no intention of losing. But you weren’t the type to let him have the upper hand.

His smile grew wider as he stepped closer to you, each step bringing him nearer. The distance between you was closing, and you could feel his warm breath brush against your skin. Jude wasn’t trying to hide his interest anymore, but he did it in that arrogant way that both annoyed and intrigued you.

“You’re always so hard to read,” he said in a lower voice, almost like he was whispering a secret just for you. “I don’t know if you like me, or if you’re just having fun making me lose my mind.”

You shrugged lightly, a soft laugh escaping your lips, but your gaze remained intense. “Maybe a bit of both,” you replied, “But I think you’re losing it more over your wounded pride than over me.”

Jude laughed again, but this time, it was less playful and more charged with something else. A game. A challenge. Without saying anything else, he got even closer, and with a sudden movement, ran his fingers through a strand of your hair, watching you intently as if that was the only way to truly understand you.

His eyes locked with yours, as if he wanted to read every thought passing through your mind. It was a casual movement, but you could feel the growing tension, and his gaze no longer slid over you like usual. He was studying you, savoring every moment of your reaction.

He looked at you again, this time without a trace of sarcasm. “Don’t you think I could make you do anything, if I wanted to?” he whispered.

His tone sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t back away. “Maybe,” you answered with a mischievous smile, “But I doubt you could keep me under control.”

He took another step closer, his body almost touching yours, and the air between you seemed more electric than ever. The challenge was now open, and Jude seemed ready to face it, but you had no intention of giving in easily.

“I like the way you think,” he said, his challenging smile not fading, “But let’s see if you’re just as good at not giving in… under pressure.”

Your mischievous smile left no doubt about your intentions. Your hand slowly slid over his chest, moving across the muscular lines of his abs, and you could feel his breath become heavier, his eyes changing expression, growing more intense and full of desire.

Jude was about to lose control, his grip slipping, but you knew. You could feel it in the tension of his body, in his hands ready to take you, but you had no intention of giving in so easily. In a moment, without warning, you gently pushed him back, making him step back with a firm move. Jude stood there, surprised, with short breath and his heart pounding in his chest.

"Not today," you whispered with an ironic smile, before turning and walking away, leaving him there, watching you as you left.

His friends, who had been watching the scene from afar, couldn't help but laugh. Vinicius shook his head, amused, while Mbappé chuckled softly. Rodrygo, with a mischievous grin, approached Jude, who still seemed to be in shock.

"She just put jude in his place," Vinicius said, laughing.

Jude stayed silent for a moment, then turned to his friends with a forced smile. "It’s not over," he murmured, as if making a promise, though he wasn’t sure what would happen next after that scene.

But one thing was clear: the challenge had only just begun.

[etherealeowyn]

"Correction, they're looking at you" - Elrond (Rings of Power) x Fem Reader

Elrond and Y/n dance together at the Winter Ball.

Pure Fluff

Word Count: 454

My requests are always open, so feel free to message me if you have an idea! I'll write for any character from The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, or The Rings of Power!

The annual Winter Ball was underway, causing swarms of elves to gather in Lindon, eager to dance and socialize with one another. Warm-hued lights hung from the trees, illuminating one of the town squares designated as the dance floor.

“Elrond they’re looking at us,” Y/n whispered, leaning into him.

“Correction, they’re looking at you,” Elrond replied, a bright smile adorning his face.

“Why? Is there something wrong with my dress?” she asked, trying to conceal her panic as she looked down at the silver floor-length dress that perfectly accentuated every part of her body.

“Y/n, my dear, there’s nothing wrong with your dress. They’re looking at you because you look magnificent tonight,” he replied, taking in the sight of her standing there, the lights reflecting off her dress in a way that made it look like she was glowing.

“Thank you, Elrond you’re making me blush,” Y/n giggled before she grabbed his arm and let him lead her to the dance floor.

Elrond smirked at her before gently resting his hands on her waist, Y/n immediately letting her arms hang around his neck as they swayed back and forth to the slow-paced music the orchestra was playing. Neither one paid any mind to the couples that danced around them, being too lost in one another’s eyes that everyone else disappeared.

They continued like this for a while, until Y/n let her head fall into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of his cologne. Elrond couldn’t conceal the smile playing on his lips because he was so completely and utterly happy, that there was no hiding how he felt. He enjoyed the feeling of her in his arms more than anything else, and he swore that as she melted into him, he could spend all of eternity in that same position without even thinking of moving and disturbing her.

“What did I ever do to be able to love someone like you with the entirety of my heart?” Elrond asked, resting his head softly against hers.

“Darling, you know good and well I should be the one asking that question,” Y/n responded, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You flatter me too much darling,” he laughed, running one of his hands through her long flowing hair.

“I disagree,” she started pulling her head away from his body, “I don’t think I flatter you enough.”

Elrond looked down into the female elf's eyes, his lips slightly parted in anticipation before he began to lean towards lips. Standing on her tiptoes, she met him halfway, their mouths connecting and moving in sync, seemingly dancing. It was like the dance they had experienced earlier, for the kiss blocked out the rest of the world around them.

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

I have noticed things about this Bumblebee design, and I can't stay silent about it anymore. (If I do not speak my mind now, I fear I may explode, so please bear with my unhinged screaming, this is good for my health.)

I have compiled my thoughts into a post because I want to spread my insanity like a plague. There are things about this YELLOW MOTHER FUCKER that I can not let go un-acknowledged anymore, THE WORLD WILL KNOW OF YOUR SINS AND I WILL BE THE ONE TO REVEAL THEM

Did you notice anything off or weird about Bumblebee in TFP? Did you? Did you notice? Anything?

BECAUSE I DID

BOY FUCKING DID I

TO begin, this fucker has no eye lids. No, I am not kidding, he never blinks. Ever. Entire show. Not one flutter of a wayward eyelid. Those eyebrows do SO MUCH heavy lifting. There are three other characters (Soundwave, Shockwave, and the Vehicons) that also do not blink, but they have either one big eye and no face or a full face mask, NOT TWO COMPLETELY NORMAL EYES THAT JUST DON’T BLINK

Second, his battle "mask." There are maybe like, 3 instances of a battle mask in the entire show: Optimus, Wheeljack, Bumblebee, and I think that's it. And Bumblebee's is the only one that looks like that, that barely-cover-the-mouth thing it's doing.

Why do his upper arms look so disproportionate to his lower arms? They look too small, the wheel looks like it’s most of the structure and, once again, no one else’s looks like this. Look at his horrific shoulders. What kind of unloving god would make this? (also im like 80% sure his left shoulder is clipping on his body just to accommodate this shot fUCKing hoRriFiC CHoicEs gENTlemen leTs KeeP fUCKINg doing iT)

Exhaust Pipes. I shant say more.

Yes, his insignia is fucking tiny and on his pelvis. Do with that what you will. no one else's is like this why-

Mothers and Fuckers I give you the BANE of My Existence, TFP BUMBLEBEE’S HOLLOW KNEES. Look at those fuckers I can thread a stick right through it. These stupid fucking triangles have been haunting me for YEARS, and, just like his eyes, NO OTHER CHARACTER HAS KNEES LIKE THIS!! I feel nothing but rage looking at this, I hate his knees with a fucking passion I am going to commit 8 felonies

Why do his knee spikes stick out so far? Why. Several other characters have similar spikes, why are Bee’s so far out. The Knees...are probably making it look worse than it is.

HIS FEET ARE TOO BIG FOR HIS LEGS WHY ARE THEY SO MUCH BIGGER! They look like clown shoes, why are they so enormous, they look so disproportionate to the rest of his body. It’s so suddenly too, his feet just abruptly explode out.

Bumblebee has no ankles. All of my emotions have shut off. Everyone else has an their joint is closer to their heel, more in the middle of their foot. Bee’s joint is too far away from his heel, more at the front of his foot. Why iS HIS HEEL SO MUCH BIGGER THAN THE REST OF HIS FOOT!! WHY ARE HIS FEET SO GODDAMN WIDE??

Let's look at a couple other bots to make my point. I'll stick to ones around Bee's size. Wheeljack and Knockout are both 21 feet tall, same as Bee. Knockout has similar wheel placement in his feet and Wheeljack has similar wheel placement in his shoulders.

would you look at that they look fucking n o r m a l. look at their NORMAL KNEES and NORMAL ARMS and NORMAL SIZED FEET THEY DON'T LOOK LIKE CLOWN SHOES HELD ON BY FUCKING STRING

I am having a conniption he is the only one that looks like this.

Would you like some very, very cursed knowledge? Yes, you would: TFP Bumblebee and RID2015 Bumblebee CANONICALLY LOOK IDENTICAL. Like, if you were in the ALC Universe, looking at two photos of him from both the time of TFP and RID15, you would not be able to tell them apart. How do I know this?

LET ME TELL YOU. So, in the episode “History Lessons”, Bumblebee takes his team to the ruins of the Nevada Autobot base, Autobot Outpost Omega One, which we all know was destroyed at the end of TFP Season 2, and they find an old recording from Before the base was destroyed. This recording is of Bumblebee in the base before it was destroyed, and his model is the same as his RID15 one. (see FUCKING above)

You’re probably asking yourself, “But why does that matter, it’s just the show’s different art styles and they needed to make sure we recognized Bee in the recording,” Why? Let me list the ways:

Bumblebee has spontaneously grown fingers in RID15. He only had 4 on each hand in TFP, but in RID15 he Suddenly just had 5. They did the exact same thing with Bulkhead, so I’m not just going crazy.

Bumblebee’s transformation sequence has drastically changed. In TFP he transformed face down head forward, and in RID15 he transforms face up head back. This is significant, and can’t be explained as artistic interpretation, because in TFP season 2 episode 4, Bumblebee drives through a ground bridge after Megatron, transforms then launches himself forward, diving to snatch the spark extractor from Megatron’s hand. You can’t do that if you’re leading with your feet. And It is very obvious that Bee transforms face up in RID15, his feet are the front of the car. I would show you pictures but I am not combing through the shows to find any more images I am so done someone please save me-

"The shows have very different art styles, maybe Bumblebee has just changed how he looks." I hear you say, and Yes. That is something that can happen in canon, Starscream “reformatted himself to his old body type,” which is actually true; his RID15 form looks a lot more like his WF/FOC form, and Soundwave shows up in his TFP form when he’s fresh out of the shadow zone, then he changes his form. We have direct confirmation that characters can change their forms. So there shouldn’t be any problems with Bumblebee’s design, correct?

YOU WOULD THINK, but because the video bee is identical to rid15 bee, but it's supposed to be tfp bee, this makes TFP Bee and RID15 Bee CANONICALLY IDENTICAL. Plus Bee's Rescue Bots Cameos are Identical as well, and one is from TFP time and the other is RID15 time.

The LOGICAL implication is that if TFP Bee and RID15 Bee are identical, then RID15 Bee actually doesn’t have eyelids and does not blink. fucking pains me in places that should not be able to feel pain.

Can you see why I'm insane now?

[mxltifxnd0m]

your skin on my skin ⇝ i. lahey

summary: seeing isaac between your thighs only happened in your dreams, it could never become a reality... right?

AU: where isaac came back from france and stayed for the rest of the series and everyone is going to the same college

pairings: isaac lahey x reader, isaac lahey x fem! reader

word count: 2.8K

warnings: MINORS DNI, no use of 'y/n', smut, oral fem!receiving, fingering, fluff, reader and isaac being lovesick idiots, implied p in v, characters are aged up to 18+ and in college, title is a lyric from fragile by laufey, kinda edited

a/n: RAHH i haven't written for isaac since july, so apologies if hes a little ooc but i miss him dearly so here's my first smut for him!! again minors please DNI please and thank you <3

but enjoy the fic! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me!

𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘢𝘤 𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You made eye contact with Isaac’s cerulean eyes as his breath ghosted your bare stomach, making goosebumps rise against your heated skin as he sunk in between your open legs. You let out a shaky breath as you tipped your head back into the plush pillows, breaking the intense gaze between you and Isaac. 

You don’t know how you got to this position. Well, you do, but you never thought in a million years that this would be happening. Having Isaac in between your thighs only happened in your dreams and imagination when you had the apartment to yourself and wanted to work off some steam in your room, your vibrator on the highest setting as it worked over your sensitive and swollen clit. 

You had the biggest crush on Isaac since you met the scrawny kid in freshman year back at Beacon, since before you were pulled into the supernatural mess with Scott and eventually Isaac himself. But you hid it well. At least, you thought you did until Lydia cornered you one day and confronted you about your crush on him. 

You shrugged it off, of course, denying that you had liked him at all and that he was only your best friend, but Lydia was smarter than that, having caught you looking at him longingly as he stared at Allison. 

When Allison and Isaac got together, it hurt a lot. The pain of having the guy you liked start dating one of your best friends was one you wouldn’t wish on anyone. But you played it off and only teased Allison about the irony of being a hunter and being into werewolves. She laughed it off, but Lydia could see the pain in your eyes every time Isaac mentioned her or you saw the two of them close to one another. 

So when Allison died, you felt conflicted. Half of you was devastated that one of your best friends was gone, forever. But the other half was relieved that she was. You felt so guilty that you felt that way about Allison but kept it to yourself, internalizing it and locking away the information for life. 

You knew the toll that Allison’s death took on Isaac, but you guys still had the nogitsune to deal with. Once that was taken care of and you tried to talk to him about what happened with everything that had happened in the past year, he was gone. He fled to France with Allison’s dad. The pack didn’t know if he was going to come back, so you decided to swallow the devastation that flooded your veins at the thought of your best friend not coming back and moving on. 

But as the new year started and moving into your second semester of junior year, your eyes met a familiar pair of cerulean ones in the crowded hallways of Beacon Hills High. You felt your heart race at the fact that Isaac came back. 

From then on, you never really moved on from him. You tried, but he was always stuck in the back of your mind. Even throughout the craziness of the following year and a half of high school, the two of you stuck by each other and with the pack. 

After high school, you and some of the pack members went to the nearest college and decided to live in the same apartment complex. Stiles, Scott, and Isaac lucked out and got a bigger unit than you and Lydia did, but it didn’t matter since they usually came over to your place since it was “cozier.” You scoffed at them because they didn’t bother to furnish their apartment as well as you and Lydia did. 

“Hey.” Isaac called out your name softly, making you snap out of your reverie and look back down at him. His warm hands were settled on your thighs as his chin rested on your stomach and his gaze intently staring at you. 

Isaac’s were slightly swollen and pinker than usual from the heated make-out session that had started out of nowhere; well, it didn’t start out of nowhere. 

It was a Saturday night, and you didn’t feel like going out with the rest of the pack, so you decided to stay in and relax. You had expected Isaac to go with them, but to your surprise, he stayed with you. 

It was slightly awkward at first. The two of you hadn’t hung out for a while without the rest of the pack hovering around you since he came back from France. It’s not like you actively avoided spending one-on-one time, but you guys drifted apart when he came back, and the active threats to Beacon Hills didn’t help with the space between the two of you. 

You tried not to show that you were nervous around him, knowing he could hear if your heartbeat was erratic or not. You had planned to watch a movie in your room, so you invited him and joked that it would be like when we used to before he became a werewolf and hid in your room for a couple of hours before he had to go back to his place. 

The smile Isaac gave you at your invite had destroyed the plan of masking your fondness for him, feeling your heartbeat slightly faster at the sight of it. 

You sat next to Isaac when you finished setting up the movie, the two of you resting against your headboard, shoulders brushing against each other as the two of you settled in your queen-sized bed. 

You kept your eyes trained on the TV, the opening sequence of Iron Man flicking through the LCD screen. But Isaac couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, taking in your features being illuminated by the dim lighting of the fairy lights you hung around your room. He smiled, remembering your dislike for overhead lighting and preference for mood lighting. 

You took a chance, glancing at Isaac and finding that his gaze was already on you. You turned your head slightly to meet his eyes. 

“What?” You murmured. 

Isaac raised his hand hesitantly, brushing a wayward hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear before resting his palm against your cheek. You almost shivered at the soft caress of his thumb against the apple of your cheek. 

“Nothing.” Isaac said with a half smile on his face, slowly inching his face closer to you. 

You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to be unphased by his touch. “Really? Because you’re not watching the movie.” 

“You know I don’t care for Marvel.” Isaac smirked. 

“Then why do you sit through the movies with me?” 

“Because you like them.” Isaac stated as if it was obvious while shrugging. 

You looked at him dumbly, your mouth slightly agape. Isaac chuckled lowly before he moved his hand from your cheek to the nape of your neck and rested his forehead against yours. 

Your eyes fluttered shut involuntarily as you felt his breath fan against your lips. 

“Can I kiss you?” Isaac whispered. 

Instead of giving him a verbal answer, you placed your lips against his, drawing him into a soft kiss. It was a short and sweet kiss, but it contrasted how your body filled with heat at the feeling of his plush lips against yours. 

Both of you pulled away, your eyes meeting for a brief moment before your lips collided once more. The kiss was filled with passion and all of the unsaid emotions that you guys had yet to admit to one another. 

Your body had a mind of its own as your lips moved against Isaac’s. You moved to straddle his lap as your hands dived into his blonde curls while his hands made their way to your hips, guiding you to his lap. The warmth of his hands seeped through the fabric of the sweatpants you were wearing. 

You felt Isaac’s tongue swipe at the seam of your lips, a silent request that you accepted. You moaned softly at the feeling of Isaac’s tongue softly intertwining against yours. You unconsciously ground your heated core against the growing bulge in his jeans. Isaac let out a low hiss, making the two of you pull apart from one another, a string of spit connecting the two of you before it broke. 

You couldn’t help but the giddy smile that broke out on your face, your stomach flipping at the sight of Isaac’s wide grin as his hands moved from your hips to the hem of the shirt you were wearing. 

He tugged on it slightly, the unsaid question written in Isaac’s eyes. You nodded, and he slowly pulled it off of you, exposing your bare chest to him. You saw his gaze widen slightly, and you let out a small giggle at his reaction. 

Isaac smiled wider at the sound of your small laugh, his heart swelling with love, and he laughed a bit when he felt you tug at his own shirt. He leaned up from the headboard and shed his own shirt, your palms settling against his chest once the offending item of clothing was flung across the room. 

Isaac had a sly smile on his face, and before you could question him, you let out a small yelp as he used his werewolf strength and agility to put you on your back. He hovered over you before he drew you into a kiss that left you breathless. But it only lasted for a moment before Isaac trailed his lips down your jaw. He nipped and kissed at the skin of your neck before moving down your collarbone and towards your breasts. 

Isaac left teasing kisses in the valley of your chest as his hands moved from your sides and to the waistband of your sweatpants. 

He looked up at you, his breath fanning over the slightly wet skin of your chest. “Can I take these off baby?” 

You felt yourself melt at the softness of his tone and the pet name. “Yeah.” You gave him a gentle smile. 

Instead of responding, Isaac left a tender kiss next to where your heart was and slowly pulled down your sweatpants. As every new inch of you was exposed, Isaac kissed the skin as if it was fragile. You couldn’t help but the lump that grew in your throat at how tender Isaac was being. 

Isaac called your name again. He was looking down at you, chin no longer resting on your stomach. Isaac was hovering over you again, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. “You alright? We don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to.” 

“M’fine.” 

“You sure?” 

You hesitated, biting your bottom lip. “Just-” You inhaled sharply. “I don’t know if this is going to be a one time thing.” 

Isaac shook his head. “Trust me, it isn’t for me. Is it for you?” He asked, nerves coloring his tone. 

“No!” You almost shouted before you cringed at your volume and cleared your throat. “No, I’ve been embarrassingly in love with you for a long time.” You admitted sheepishly. 

The grin that was on Isaac’s face was blinding. He kissed you hard before pulling back. “Thank god.” He breathed out, relieved. “I’ve felt the same way for a long time. Ever since I came back to Beacon.” 

You didn’t have any words to respond with, so you put your hands on his cheeks and kissed him, pouring all of the love and adoration you had for him over the years into it. Isaac couldn’t help but smile into the kiss before he deepened the kiss and blanketed your body with his, his bulge grinding against your clothed cunt. 

You moaned at the feeling of his denim-clad bulge brushing against your heated cunt, your underwear almost soaked through as the two of you made out. Isaac broke the kiss and eventually made his way back in between your legs, his heated stare directed at the wet patch in your panties. 

He threw your legs over your shoulder as his face drew closer to your cunt, leaving feather-light kisses on your inner thighs. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing in anticipation. Isaac started to kiss you lightly through the wet fabric, making you moan softly. 

“Shit, you’re so wet.” He breathed out before taking one of his hands and pulling your underwear to the side, exposing your soaked core to him. 

You could see the hunger in his eyes as he stared at your cunt. “Fuck, you’re so pretty.” Isaac praised, and you clenched at his words, biting your lip in hopes of keeping the whine that threatened to escape your mouth. 

Isaac couldn’t help but smirk at your reaction, but instead of teasing you, wanting to save it for next time, he leaned forward and pressed a sloppy kiss to your clit, and your hands went to fist at your comforter. 

A breathy moan left the confines of your throat, and Isaac licked a strip from your slit to your sensitive nub, collected the slick leaking from you, and swirled his warm tongue around your clit. He drew it into his mouth, sucking on it softly. 

One of your hands left the mattress to clutch at his hair, a low moan emanating from the boy in between your legs. The noise sends vibrations to your cunt and fills your veins with pleasure. Your cries and whines filled the room as Isaac ate you out like a man starved. You had barely registered that the bed was moving slightly due to Isaac rutting against the mattress and that he had ripped your panties off of you and completely dove into you, his tongue deep in you as he thumbed at your clit, wanting to wring out as much pleasure from you as possible. 

“Oh fu-uck.” Both of your hands were in his hair at this point. “Shit, Isaac.” You could barely form words between your moaning, the heat in your core building rapidly at his ministrations. 

Isaac smirked internally and moved his mouth to suck at your clit as he inserted a finger in you, the tugging at his hair and your moans spurring him on to try and make you cum. 

“Isaac.” You whined at the feeling of your cunt finally being filled. 

He quickly added a second finger, slowly thrusting in and out of your slick cunt. “Yeah, baby?” Isaac asked, pulling away for a moment, kissing your inner thigh, and tilting his head to look up at you. He could stare at your blissed-out face forever, it being the second most beautiful thing he’s ever seen from you (the first one being your smile). 

“I-i need to- fuck!” A choked moan leaves your lips as Isaac’s fingers brush against your g-spot. 

Isaac grinned. “Need what? You gotta tell me what you want sweetheart.” 

Through the haze of lust, you could hear the teasing tone of his words, but you didn’t care. “Please, let me cum.” 

“There you go, pretty girl.” Isaac began to pump his fingers harder, making sure to hit your g-spot with every thrust, and latched onto your swollen nub again. 

“Fuck!” You felt the knot in your core threatening to snap. You were practically writhing in your bed, sweat coating your body as Isaac continued to finger you. 

“I’m-I’m-” 

“Let go sweetheart.” Isaac mumbled into your folds before pressing hard against your g-spot and sucking your clit hard. 

The knot snapped, and a keening whine left your lips. Your warm walls clenched against Isaac’s fingers. His fingers slowed, working you through your orgasm until it subsided. He pulled his fingers out of you gently, mindful of your tender cunt. He peppered small kisses on your thighs, trailing up your body, waiting for you to come down from your intense high. 

You felt Isaac shift, resting next to you, and his hand brushed away the hairs that were stuck to your slightly damp forehead. You opened your eyes to find Isaac looking down at you with a gentle but shy smile on his face. 

You couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped your lips at how bashful Isaac was being and placed a hand on his cheek and pulled him down for a kiss, uncaring if you could taste yourself on him. 

Your lips melded with his, and you felt like you could kiss him forever; his lips were soft and warm against yours. Before you knew it, the kiss grew heated again. Isaac’s jeans were soon discarded, and his deep groans joined the chorus of moans that left you and filled your room as the two of you drew pleasure from each other.

Wolf whistles and clapping were your wake-up call the following day, your friends loitering outside of your room as they saw you and Isaac wrapped up in one another underneath your sheets. 

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[maybe-boys-do-love]

What are some possibly significant queer associations with St. Bartholomew for Ticket to Heaven?

I'm glad you asked!

For those who don’t know, Bartholomew’s considered one of Jesus’s twelve disciples, but barely mentioned in the Bible. It's generally agreed that he is referred to also as Nathanael in the gospel of John, and as someone with the name Nathaniel, which means gift of God in Hebrew, I can tell you that’s a gay-ass name and will also def make me cry if I think too hard about Gem's character having that parallel during the show).

Bart’s often depicted holding his flayed skin (ew gross!) from when he got martyred, most famously in queer Italian Renaissance artist Michelangelo’s "Last Judgment" painting in the Sistine chapel at the Vatican. The skin St. Bart’s holding there is actually a (skinned) self-portrait of the artist. Peek at Aof’s insta and you’ll see that he actually visited the work. It’s giving queer influence in (Catholic) Christianity and autobiographical reference, baby ✨

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Bartholomew and another disciple Philip, who was written to have introduced Bartie to the big JC party and to have traveled with him after JC’s post-post-mortem, are mentioned in a translation by Yale scholar John Boswell of a liturgy for an adelphopoeisis ceremony between two monks from the tenth century. Boswell argued that adelphopoeisis, or spiritual brotherhood unions in the pre-sodomy-law-era early church should be understood as same-sex unions. This, as most discussion of gay shit with the Church, has been controversial, although some of those controversies are issues with Boswell’s translation. There does seem to be some evidence that these spiritual brotherhoods were understood to have the potential to be sexual in nature. Either way, it seems likely Aof has come across Boswell’s ideas because it’s pretty prominent in discourse for anyone looking into gay Christian history.

THEN, although it might be unintentional, the Thai-ification of Bart is homophonic with Bath????!!!! If Bart can be short for Bartholomew, y'all are gonna have to let me stretch a little bit past Aof's official statement so Bath can be short for Bathsheba because...

Giving us another Biblical name reference but from the other gender who's THE example of coveting in the Bible/Torah is such a power move! King David sees Bathsheba bathing from his roof and has her over to sleep with him even though she's the wife of one of David's soldiers who's literally off fighting for his kingdom. Then he gets her pregnant. Then David has the poor guy over for dinner and doesn't admit to it, sends him back out and has him put in the front lines to get killed. He dies and Bathsheba mourns for a bit before becoming David's wife. It's heterosexual failure! It's the temptations of the flesh! It's one of the inspirations for Leonard Cohen's cold and broken Hallelujah! This connection reframes the queer temptations as something no less normal than heterosexual desire.

After all, David is the good guy. The celebrated little David who killed Goliath. It's essential to trace Jesus's lineage back to this most-celebrated king in the Bible for the messianic prophecies to be correct. So giving us a reference to this venerated and simultaneously deeply human figure really complicates the kind of Christianity that expects immaculate humans.

And, Bathsheba wasn't David's only paramour. Researching same-sex relationships in the Bible, David and Jonathan will be at the very top of the list. "The soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul...Then Jonathan made a covenant with David, because he loved him as his own soul. And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was upon him, and gave it to David, and his armor, and even his sword and his bow and his girdle." That's coming from the book of Samuel in the Revised Standard Version of the Bible, which was the first in 1946 to have any reference to word ‘homosexuality,’ using it to replace in the King James Version "abusers of themselves with mankind" and "effeminate” (which at that time did not have the common association with gay men the way it does today) on the list of sinners barred from heaven. Would David have been far enough on the Kinsey scale to qualify? Well, David had some other wives on top of Jonny and Bath, too. Whatever happened to family values!?

Of course, Bath also gives us images of washing and purifying alongside the sacrament of baptism!

The Bartholomew connection deserves more legit emphasis with Aof's statements and actual evidence for his visit to the Vatican, but how fun that the translation gave us another queer part of Christianity even if it wasn't intentional!

Complicating all of this discussion further is Catholicism's very late switch away from Latin and its more emphatic focus on tradition, hagiography, and liturgy rather than the text of the Bible. My ex-Christian fixation is on issues in Reformed Christianities (and I still love me some iconophobia, a topic with which Aof loves to engage), so I know more about the books and interpretations. I'm looking forward to the Catholic and ex-Catholic contributions here as the show gets underway. Like, y'all have been doing the most for production values of a Sabbath!

And to all my ex-Christians who can get sucked into spirals about this stuff, just remember that the concept of God is chill and all if it's just the comforting sense of connection between things in the universe, but any concepts of Christology, sin, or puppet-master deities are literally the most whack things if they're being thought of as anything more than a kind of out-there overly-simplified metaphor for trying to live a life where you can be yourself and get along with other people.

*This info and a great deep dive into the induction of the language and discourse of homosexuality in the Bible and its progressive! roots and aftermath is Reforming Sodom: Protestants and the Rise of Gay Rights.

[devils-advocate-writes]

there are many new endings in slay the princess: pristine cut. most involve the princess and the long quiet getting closer and closer to understanding their true natures, to the world they are trapped in.

one set of routes gets them the closest, however.

every route stemming from chapter II: the tower gets our main characters the closest they ever truly get to recognizing themselves, each other, and their situation.

heavy spoilers below!

color key: chapters, voices, endings, and recognition

chapter II: the tower

as a quick refresher: in the tower route, you hesitate before attacking the princess. this hesitation costs you your life, as the princess takes advantage and strikes. before she kills you, she shows strength she should not feasibly have and complains that you disappointed her.

in chapter two, the interior of the cabin is massive, making you look tiny in comparison. the princess has become divine, close to godhood but not quite. you now have the voice of the broken with you, who only desires to submit to the princess.

if you fight back, managing to strike the princess and forcing her to attack you with her bare hands.. you have defiled her. she can feel herself turning into something new. you have ruined her ascension, and now you will pay the price. you die, and chapter III: the fury begins.

the tower -> chapter III: the fury

by stubbornly resisting the princess in the last chapter, against all odds, you now have the voice of the stubborn.

the princess, once holy, has been tainted by her violent actions against you. she was so close to godhood! so close to becoming something greater! but now she is... lesser. she will make you suffer for your insolence.

she unwinds you, forcing your guts out into the open.

unwound ending (submit to the princess)

the princess tears you to pieces and remakes you over and over again, begging to know if you're still you. if something torn in two is still recognizable as the whole. ..if the two of you are still whole. you lose yourself in the shifting. you lose your identity. eventually, you even lose the voices of hero, broken, and stubborn. then, the princess puts you back. she is tired. she wants you to understand what she understands, what she got so close to grasping with godhood. ..maybe there's a way you can. the princess looks up at something you cannot see -- the long quiet surrounding you -- and unwinds you both. then, she attempts to weave you together. her heart feels familiar. but then it is ripped away from you.

quantum beak ending (take the knife -> refuse)

but you don't have to submit. you continue moving forward, inching closer to the princess. she doubted your resolve before. she will not make the same mistake. she spreads you around the entire room. you cannot move. cannot do anything but perceive your own situation. this can't be the end. stubborn won't let it be. so, you choose to die. you begin returning directly to the basement. you attack, and you are unwound. over and over and over again. the other voices attempt to help, but all fail and fade. until the voice of the cold. cold numbs the pain. you persist through being unwound, and become nothing. yet you still exist. the cold says this feels... natural.

you attack with threads of nothing -- threads of the long quiet.

something clicks for the princess as she dies. she apologizes, now understanding something. something about you both. and then she is taken from you.

the tower -> chapter III: apotheosis

if you died in any way in the tower, without fully resisting and defiling the princess, you return to the woods. this time, however, things are different.

you do not make it to the cabin before the princess rises from the ashes. her ascent to godhood has truly begun.

whatever actions you take next, you eventually leave the confines of "this world of illusions". you are in the long quiet. the princess raises a hand to run through the threads... and you feel it. you feel her hand. you still feel it when she begins to hurt you with it.

grace ending

no matter what choices you made in the tower, nor what voices or items you have with you, you may submit to the princess at any point. the princess tears a hole in the long quiet - in you - revealing a true, colorful reality on the other side. you both feel like you belong there. yet, you are blocked. the princess cannot leave. the shambling mound is taking her. but before it can, she chucks you towards the hole she made. the world will always be dark without her, comments broken. it closes before you can reach it. so close. and you go again.

the voice of the contrarian: restrain ending

you told the princess exactly what she was meant to do, yet defied both her, the hero, and the narrator both. you killed yourself, and now you are joined by contrarian. you take the knife.

choose to embrace the goddess. feel the pain, and a need to strike back. so you do, and the princess is restrained by tendrils of the long quiet. you see the hole into the other reality, though you do not reach for it. the princess says that you two could have had everything if you had given her anything. but now you are stuck. and then you go again.

the voice of the paranoid: unraveled ending

you refused to tell the princess what she was destined for. she tore into your mind herself to find that information. because of that, you now have paranoid with you.

and he gives you everything the contrarian narrowly missed.

immediately, paranoid puts two and two together and realizes your thoughts can change everything in this world. and you can do whatever you want, as long as you believe you can. as he says.. none of this is real. you take the knife and successfully attack, though you still end up in the long quiet. still realize that you are the long quiet. yet, paranoid takes his full power against her. you are the nothing, and you attack with nothing. you unwind her. "she is bound to you, and you are bound to her. hollow echoes of what you used to be." and then she is taken. and then you go again.

...

you get so close. so, so close. you learn that you can control this world, that this world is fake, that you are nothing, that you are the long quiet, that the princess is a goddess, that you were once one, that there is a world beyond that you both belong in, that you two could have everything.

and then she is gone. and then you go again.

[toasthaste]

ok here are some In Stars and Time thoughts: (wow! that's a lot of thoughts actually! long post warning! also warning for like every possible spoiler, don't read this if you haven't engaged with the game to your satisfaction)

I'm obsessed with the fact that the loop that ends up being the final one is the one where EVERYTHING goes wrong. I spent the whole game subconsciously building up my Perfect Final Loop in my mind, how I'd get every item to make sure I didn't miss an opportunity to use em, do all the friendquests and such... I didn't even realize I'd been building up that ideal scenario until after credits rolled! Really really cool. The timeline where Siffrin does the worst stuff he does in any loop is the one that stays. And it's still a happy ending! it's a better ending because of that! His friends saw him at his worst and still loved him! He didn't have to do everything perfect to keep them around actually! Something about that feels so right, to me.

I keep using "ludonarrative resonance" to describe this game and yeah ok I'm huffing my own farts here whipping that out but whatever, it's REAL. The player and Siffrin are on the EXACT same emotional journey as each other, we're getting tired of seeing the exact same lines over and over again right alongside them, we're taking shortcuts because we've seen it all before and just want to grab key open door grab crest etc etc make the progress go. We're starting to find these previously-charming characters grating because we've just seem them repeat the SAME lines over and over and over and OVER again until they start feeling like caricatures of themselves who we can barely feel any real compassion for any more.... It's just so.... clean, it's so perfect, to me. It helps that Siffrin is also one of the more relatable characters I've encountered in, like, media. I don't usually relate to fictional characters much, but, man, the emotional constipation, the building scorn, the depression, the Being Weird About Touch... I mentioned in another post that it's really just Siffrin and Murderbot who I've ever found viscerally relatable, of all the characters ever in media. So like, it's a pretty rare position. (I do not relate to the pun-love though. I'm funny I'm good at goofs but bad puns are extremely tedious to me. Which perhaps goes to show how well-realized Siffrin is, given that I'm able to look the other way....)

I think they could have stood to make Loop's Whole Deal a bit more obvious. I had no clue what their fucking deal was at any point. I totally missed the interaction that lets you learn about The Incident and thus get more Loop info at the end, and... it's valid to have different endings in a game of course, but... I felt like I really missed out tbh! And I had no way of knowing I had to keep interacting with the silver coin.... idk. It felt a bit like a gotcha I suppose. And Loop's deal is really cool! Holy hell! I'm doing a quick replay of the game to see more convos with them with this context, and to get the ending with them, and like--!!! There's so much here! Loop tellins Sif to use the royal We, they even tell Siffrin, like-- Loop asks Siffrin why he doesn't just tell his friends about the loops, maybe they can help, why keep it a secret? Meanwhile... Loop!Siffrin is stuck in their own helpless timefuckery world and refusing to let Siffrin know about it! The Siffrin from the Start Again timeline never learned those lessons, they're still trying to help someone else while refusing to ask for help themselves, refusing to even let on that there's a problem! And getting more and more emotionally fucked up about it! Man it's good. I guess it does make a replay more rewarding, not knowing this until the end, the first time, but so much of the game is already a replay that, idk, it does feel weird to replay it. I've already done so many repetitions y'all.... But I guess that's pretty meta, also...

Oh I'm under the impression this is not terribly uncommon but I absolutely did get got by the ?diary? that had the story of the person making a duplicate of themselves so they had someone to talk to. Like I fully thought that was describing the King and Siffrin, I spent a long time under the mistaken impression that Siffrin was a copy of the King in some capacity. Oops.... I might try to gently lead Beloved Roomie away from this interpretation when she plays it. Planning on being pretty hands-off overall but this is one area where I feel it might be justified to violate the prime directive.... But we'll see!

I wish I liked the music more..... This is a game that I think really begs for some real heartwrenching tunes to enhance all of the everything but instead none of it does it for me at all. I think that's a real shame, it's by far my biggest complaint. I'm not asking for Undertale-tier, but, at least something I'd want to put on my playlist for the emotional resonance, y'know?

THEY ACTUALLY KILLED THE KID !!!! LIKE!!!! I guess I have some biases I might should think about but I was not expecting a game that begins with so many explicit pronouns introductions (rather than just giving us context clues) and that has no real cursing to be willing to kill the kid, even impermanently? Let alone so gruesomely? I think I was expecting a much greater level of.... idk, tweeness, fanglessness, than we actually got. In spite of being a fan of insertdisc5's comics for YEARS and years! And like! Damn! Props to them!

God. God. So, like. All the ending fakeouts were fucking great. I genuinely thought the All Friendship Quests ending might be the Real One, I was prepared to be disappointed because it felt too soon and just not.... quite.... right? But I did think that was probably where it was heading! But it wasn't! I got got and it's so heartwrenching and also so satisfying, the mood whiplash from loop to loop is fucking sublime.

And-- AND! The real ending! So like. Some of the stuff I missed was just me not pursuing specific content correctly. But some of it is genuinely just, like, stuff that has no actual purpose besides flavor. Flavor, and.... The locked passphrase door in Dormont. The four-pointed leaf you can get (but not in the final loop!), the bell chime, etc etc. You can't actually really do anything with any of this stuff. But you don't know that! It feels like there's still all these loose ends! And!!! Those loose ends do their job SO WELL! The dev knows Gamer Instincts, knows people are gonna have that mental tally of boxes-yet-to-be-checked. Left some forever unchecked on purpose, which-- At the end, the real end, when Siffrin is about to talk to the Head Housemaiden and find out, for real, if this is the final loop or if it's all going to happen again, again, again. He's scared. He's traumatized! He's thought he Had It so many times! SO many times!!! Hope is terrifying! Hope is a poison! And the game has left these loose threads, and at least for me I really was not sure it was going to work. Like it seemed likely but the same metaknowledge of story structure that made me think it was likely also told me "but wait, there's all these loose threads, and the only way for them to trick us again WOULD BE to make the ending SO elaborate and epilogue-y....." I was nervous right along with Siffrin! I was uncertain! Fucking fantastic work, using my own gamer's instincts against me. Thrilled about it.

All the characters are so well realized. They all have specific relationships with each other, not just with Siffrin (Important!!!!! Huge complaint I had with BG3, they didn't put their whole pussies into this!!!!). And, and, I love how they all have different feelings about the time loops. I love that Mirabelle doesn't want "spoilers," and meanwhile Bonnie doesn't mind them and thinks of their alt-selves as like... them-but-not-them in a very cool way.

There's something about-- the way the game starts as a regular degular videogame and then graaaadually becomes, essentially, a visual novel as the actual gameplay becomes trivialized. Which itself is like, really really cool with the themes! And also, just.... I never would have picked up a straight up visual novel, I just, don't get into them, I'd rather read a book, but! I was already invested! It got its hooks into me when there was gameplay mixing things up and those hooks weren't about to let go just because the gameplay didn't super matter any more!

Straight up when we first see Red I didn't at all process that it was a Color in a game with No Colors, Canonically. They had to spell it out for me. It didn't occur to me to be surprised. I'm just too used to colors existing I guess idk. I think I wish the colors thing had gone somewhere a bit more...? I'm GUESSING it mostly originated as just a cute little explanation for why the game is all grayscale and then fit in with enough stuff to be given elevated importance (?) But it felt... hm. Underdeveloped, maybe. I think I really want more stories in this.... "Setting" and "Universe" and "Series" are not quite the right words but hopefully you get the idea. I want more so there can be one that develops that more. Not that leaving stones unturned is, like, illegal ofc. I just find the idea very compelling....

What is it with time loop stories and themes of loss that cannot be outsmarted. Man. I wondered, for so long, if Siffrin's country was going to be restored in people's minds, if that was one of the main big Plot Things we'd see. And it just didn't! Their memory is going to keep being bad, they're going to keep having all these huge tragic gaps and it's just. What can you do. At some point you have to either be permanently paralyzed by the horrific injustice you've suffered-- or you have to try to live a life. And. Man. I don't think I've actually ever encountered a story that was so much about that exact specific form of loss, the loss of one's culture, history, language! All of it. Gone from everywhere. It made me think of the obvious things and just. Man. What a howling void. The contrast with Odile's deal made it a lot more effective too I think. More of an expanded meditation upon these themes than just one toe dipping in, I guess? Hm.

Odile's battle profile pic when she's at low health is so fucking hot this cartoon character is so hot goddammit.

Game good. You're only reading this if you've already played it, I hope, so I can't use this space to recommend it in a meaningful way but. Heck. Game good.

[spiritforestwrit]

didn’t want to start mist discourse but i’m mad. i think this fandom has a rather glaring issue about how they treat female characters in general. so anyways a rant towards a few certain anons who have decided hating on mist is the new hot thing!

Mist Is A Good Character, Actually: Why This Fandom Needs to Treat Female Characters Better

(she likes to pick apples! good for her! …or are those tomatoes?)

i can tell that one of those anons never played the tellius duology simply because in a cutscene in the PROLOGUE mist is literally playing in a field of flowers??? the cutscene with the famous “ ‘bout time!” line from the questionable english dub??? established right off the bat is that she enjoys nature, confirmed by her official art above showing her with a basket of apples! listen i hate being a gatekeeper, the tellius games aren’t the easiest to emulate and physical copies are pricey, but come on. you can’t be sending anon hate when you barely know the characters. i’ve also seen someone talk about how her only trait is being ike’s sister??? what??? okay listen to me for a second. their mom is dead at the start of path of radiance. greil is still alive at this point. mists behaviour is a bit different from how she is in later chapters and in radiant dawn at this point, such as poking fun at ike and boyd. however, once greil dies, she breaks down, and is a lot more attached to ike from then on. she literally follows him into the final black knight fight in path of radiance. SOREN of all people stayed out of it and lord knows he’s with ike all the time. so don’t come at me with this “she’s just ike’s sister 🤓” stuff, she’s scared to lose him after losing both parents before she’s even an adult, because when greil went off to fight by himself, he died!

you also can’t just dictate whether or not a character is good because of a tiny list of what they like. that’s not how it works. mist is not a “mini housewife”, she is a fifteen year old who lost her mother at a young age and is one of two girls in the Greil Mercenaries before Mia joins - it’s pretty clear, to me at least, that that’s probably affected her and who she is as a character. the duality of a fifteen year old girl who enjoys playing in flower fields and teases her brother, but is also one of two girls in a male-dominated mercenary group, stuck doing most of the chores because aside from oscar being a cook, i can’t see people like boyd or gatrie coming in to help with the domestic stuff like sewing!

i would also like to add that i do agree that fire emblem is weird about character ages, but listen. stop getting mad about how she should’ve been ten years old or whatever. that’s not helpful when looking at a character from an analytical angle. use it to ask WHY the creators chose to design her that way or why she acts childish at times. my english teacher once said to us, nothing is by accident in a short story. the author has limited space to tell their story, so everything serves a purpose. why is this relevant? the same philosophy holds here, in my opinion. fire emblem is a series that has a huge cast of characters that all have to share that limited amount of screen time. when taking a look at someone’s character, you can’t just immediately write something off as the designers being silly. so why is mists age 15 when she looks and acts in such a way? to me, the designers wanted to show how she didn’t get the chance to grow up like most girls, raised in a place where she had to learn to take care of herself pretty fast, and she’s trying to hold on to what she has left of her childhood - when she had the time to focus on hobbies aside from domestic ones. this isn’t a knock on greil or titania or the other mercenaries, though; it’s just the nature of having to leave their base quite often, and i think mist had to find comfort in the small things that started off as chores, hence why they’re in her list of liked things.

this whole mist debacle has kinda exposed something within the fire emblem fandom that isn’t talked about much. yes this was only two anons who came after her, but it’s something i find prevalent with other female characters like deirdre. a lot of people don’t take the time to look into female characters and who they are, and write them off as being boring and having no personality. and i don’t think the guys of fire emblem get that same treatment at all. the fact that SHE was singled out in a cast of over 70 playable characters by radiant dawn is just nuts to me. “dragging down tellius”. the same games with a character who’s been called out for being a racist stereotype. and it just makes me angry that this kind of treatment of the girls of fire emblem goes unchecked a lot of the time. hyping up Lyn or whoever is generally perceived as a “good character” doesn’t mean you’re automatically exempt from contributing to fandom misogyny. and the reason i say this is because a lot of these fans don’t really care about taking a deeper look into the women. it’s a surface level glance at them. there’s a reason why micaiah used to be called a mary-sue. they just assume that they won’t be as “well-written” compared to the men. if you want to combat fandom misogyny, you have to uplift all women in the cast, and that includes women you think are uninteresting or bland, because there’s some really interesting stories being told that have been ignored. again taking the tellius fandom as an example: there are so many amazing female characters in the duology, like there’s Jill of course but they genuinely did a great job with so many of the women. lethe, elincia, micaiah, titania, almedha, ena, to name a few. and while yes, they’re generally regarded as good characters, they don’t get the same amount of love the others do - there’s hardly anyone digging into them and their motivations. and it’s criminal.

in conclusion, do better. mist isn’t a bad character. fandom misogyny runs deep, and the only way to fight it is to start appreciating the women of the series as characters, and to give them the same in-depth analyses the men get.

[enemylv1]

Ok firts note goal reached here are some kirby headcanons

- gooey and coo have a father-child bond, while gooey really adores all the animal frends coo is the one that took more care of them, thats also the reason coo does no have any mission related to a love one on dreamland 3

-kirby's copy ability over the years have become more complex, that been showed by using burning and fire

- adeline is trans, ado was a temporal name

-ribbon and bandana dee bond over their parental figures rulers talking of silly missions and events they helped organize

-shadow kirby's new mischief was aleays there, they where just too scared to show it

- chilly likes spicy food

-magolor dye and fixes his clothes with magic thats why they became grey and broke on the magolor epilogue

-dark matter's do no have a name unless they are consider elite and/or have an special role, dark rimuru,rimuro and rimura had scout and gain a lot for zero so they earn a name, while blade and miracle are in higher positions of power

-gooey is sensible to light

-waddle dees have almost no differences bettew male and females

-dark matters actually start invading a planet way before what it looks like, having multiple weaker scouts who only work is to gather information, they are almost undetectable, yet they usually lost their vessel when the actual invasion start as they lack more control

-Nz and other creatures of the like are the result of organic beings who had been assimilated, mere puppets with vague idea of their previous lifes

-the reason why so many characters hide their feautures is out a supersticion ,the idea is that both being like void and kabamon do no reconoze you enough for them to imitate you

-mekai was a testing ground for many of the tecnology used in the rest of the galaxy

-kabula is gnc

-magolor has a vtuber model on the main canon too

-bandee is learning to cook, he is trying its best

-kirby is no that interested on tecnology but learned a lot thanks to dedede and sussie

-susie and taranza are on a queer platonic relationship

-almost all planets on gamble galaxy where being observe by dark matters but they started firts with the hardest (the most positive)

-king dedede (game) knows all waddle dees by name, the anime dedede does not know any of them

-pink and mine are best friends

-Gim was joking about wanting a robot invation, yet it really wanted to meet more robots

-the difference bettew spark and plasma is just the illumination, kirby does no realize they are the same ability

-kirby is a good boy and would no jaywalk or stay awake past bedtime (unless somethinh important is happening)

-bandee has a really strict scheshulde tough it always ends broken in these adventures

-bandana greatest fear is that their friends really just think of him as another waddle dee, yes he is glad to be a waddle dee but they are also an individual

-king dedede is scared of bees and wasps

-taranza is scared of mirrors

-magolor eats apples with spite

-gooey still calls dark matter (and dark matter-like beings) its family

-"star" in the name of planets is actually a lost in transladation word from the ancients

-landia has mixed feeling over their tittle is guardian angel, afterall the crown's origin is quite closely related to a god

-dark matters (mainly defective ones) can get stuck in a body usually because of it having already strong negative emptions, still having control and the easier way to get unstuck is killing it

-kracko is quite good with no kirby kids

-popstar gravity is wonky and has a bit of magic, thats why most things in there had varing sizes

-the whole body horror dark matters can do depends on the vessel, if it is too weak it may barely be able to do something without destroyint it, king dedede is quite resistant so he is a prime target

-after zero two's death, most dark mattet of its hive where leaved without any contact with the hive or guide , only more independant (defective) ones like gooey survived, maybe in some place there is another

-gooey eats glue , kirby only does so if needed and bandee does no

Ask for more if you want! I can made of other media too just ask :D