#simply w the knowledge that it exists

[impossible-rat-babies]

I have GOT to make eyrie’s brother weirder in a physical sense

[mechawolfie]

i understand it's ok to feel my feelings, andi know a lot of these feelings are a result of my upbringing, but I really do wish I didn't feel this crushing loneliness at seeing my friends have fun without me

[beeapocalypse]

AH i havent talked abt the frontierists here have i. very secretive sect of alamanni humans looking into Dreamed Realities (pocket realities born by dreams- the purposeful creation of them by eldritch deities Is possible but is also considered way blasphemous. near every dreamed reality by alamanni folk is born of essentially the most advanced form of maladaptive daydreaming possible and is unintentional. way hard to discern between them and real vivid Normal dreams). humanitys predecessors (taught the secret of intentionally dreaming up new lands by a select few eldritch beasties seeking refuge from the rest) sought refuge in a dreamed reality to get away from both the incessant typically deadly curiosity of the vast majority of eldritch deities and their incredibly shit living situation (forced into subterranean living bc of the whole corpse of the existence dragon and all of its curious parasites hanging up in the sky staring down at them, resources running low over the years with them unable to leave for more bc of the venettes- already sentient animals transformed into more human shapes by the eldritch in an attempt to get closer to that hidden race) and their shed mortal bodies upon successful exodus became the first humans so theyve got this tiny innate knack for intentional exploration that other alamanni folk dont. through the gathering of just abt every bit of still surviving texts on dreamed realities (WAY sparse, both thru the passage of time + the fact that those first eldritch deities desperate enough to part with such secrets were long killed by their more pious fellows), the frontierists understand the mechanics of it all Just enough to be able to deliberately enter and explore this 'final frontier' which they seek to put to page and Conquer

[retiredteabag]

I believe Nanami has always been a gentleman.

Due to the climate that exists, it can be hard to assume the best of people, knowing this, its not impossible to understand that in your time being a classmate of the man, you had previously been led you to figure the opposite of Nanami Kento.

Of course, you simply could not avoid the blatant roll of eyes when Nanami would bend down to retrieve a fallen pencil for his female classmate. Or when he would place an intentional hand on firm objects to protect from the possibility of future harm. And it would be remiss to not add that you had seen the men in your shared classes sigh anytime Nanami would defend a predominantly feminist sentiment in classroom discussions.

By no fault of your own, you had started to believe the masses that would perpetuate the rumor of his “white knight" status.

This assumption that Nanami was simply trying to get into a girls pants. By being kind and gentle with them, and by being a patient, learned, listener.

This idea all came to a front one day while you were on the train ride home.

Overfilled and uncomfortable, you had never felt so unsafe on your commute home than you had in that moment.

Call it hyper vigilance, but you had the intuition to locate a problem before it occurred. And even before the man, now plastered to your side, had weaseled his way into your proximity, you could smell the poor intentions from a mile away.

Fear sprung through you as you felt his body press against your own, you had a million thoughts flood your brain.

Should you shout at him? Make a scene? Would he accuse you of overreacting? Or perhaps you should simply try to move… but where to? You felt so terribly trapped that you couldn’t withhold the gasp that left you at the sudden ripping loss of his unwanted touch.

A commanding voice, unafraid of accusation, rang through the train car.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

You recognized the tall blond man immediately. He was in your ethics and rhetoric classes, and was notorious for being a real gentleman.

The typical assumption was, that this was for his own personal gain.

And, of course, being nice and being kind are not the same. He, to your knowledge, was being nice, instead of the latter.

Back to the moment at hand though, Nanami’s grasp never faltered on the perpetrators wrist, in fact, your classmate seemed to tighten his fist.

“I said. What the hell. Do you think. You’re doing.”

Real anger resounded from his tone. And every negative emotion from the situation seemed to echo in your brain.

Time passed slowly, all too slowly, and yet, before you could really understand the situation, you had ushered yourself onto your platform after your transport had come to a stop. And somehow, your classmate was staring down at you, asking if you were alright.

“I’m fine.” You force out.

You shouldn’t have to feel grateful nothing worse happened, you shouldn’t feel glad you weren’t physically harmed.

“I’m sorry. This must have been awful…” Nanami runs a hand through his hair and in that moment, all of your vitriol forces itself onto him as he finishes, “May I walk you home?”

Fury at his character, at this act, at everything that had happened today boiled the words out of your mouth, “Oh, for heaven sake, I’m not going to fuck you.”

“W-what?”

To his credit, he looks properly appalled. Stepping a wide margin away from you.

“I’m-I’m sorry, no.” He stutters, clears his throat, “that’s not what I- of course not-“

And he looks genuine in his fear at the thought.

“Right.” You sigh, “Well, thanks for all that, but I need to get home.”

He seems to wage a war within himself, to offer to bring you home, or to leave this be.

After a moment of consideration, he decides on the latter of the options. Solely because he knows now that you must not think of him as a trustworthy or safe individual. And rather than angry at this thought, he is sad. Worried about your past, and determined to be a safe option for you.

“Please get home safe.” And later you will wonder how he remembered you when recalling how he spoke out your name before saying, “I really am sorry, about all of this.”

You had walked home that night jumpy and cold.

—

It wouldn’t take but a week for you to begin questioning his intentions again after you watch your classmate deliver bagged lunches for the homeless outside of campus when he thought nobody was around.

When you had witnessed his genuine argument with another “one of the bros” after disagreeing with them in class.

And when you saw him offer to tutor any and all classmates that felt they might need a little help.

And while you were analyzing his motives, he started to develop his understanding of where you were coming from- eventually deciding that his goal would be to prove to you that he never had any ill will, and instead, cares for you as a human. Not for what you could offer him.

You don’t know yet, but he always has been a gentleman.

[kurthorton-moving]

I have finished lone star s1

[novy2sirius]

MERCURY HOUSE CORE ©novy2sirius

trigger warning: mental health issues, pedophilia, killing, physical health issues ☘️

this is just a random post abt things ppl with these placements could experience ☘️

these r only abt isolated placements so take it with a grain of salt bc the whole chart matters ☘️

a lot of these r experiences i’ve heard from my friends and ppl who’ve purchased readings from me directly ☘️

☿ mercury in 1h core

being diagnosed with more mental illnesses than u can count, being very intelligent which leads u to be anxious just by existing bc of all ur knowledge, saying things u don’t mean cuz u were angry, being told u have a youthful face, knowing a bunch of random facts abt things and telling ppl and them asking why tf u know that or care, hyper-fixating on things u can’t control, getting internet hate by simply existing, getting dmed sexual stuff by random weird dudes trying to prey on u (especially when ur younger), getting nauseous bc ur anxiety is so bad (especially before school), having sexy hands, skipping school to be on ur phone all day and do nothing, asking way too many questions bc of ur curiosity abt everything and annoying ppl (especially as a kid), giving ur opinion when no one asked for it, being told u could be a good rapper/singer, being rly good at flirting bc of ur charm, cussing a lot

☿ mercury in 2h core

being obsessed with mukbang/eating videos and then making urself rly hungry and being frustrated bc u can’t have the food they’re eating in the video, valuing ur own opinions more than others, not answering texts or calls bc ur too lazy to but then liking those same ppls posts on instagram, saying “um” too much or having a lot of pauses in between words bc ur a slow thinker, talking to ur toys as a kid when u were lonely, getting all ur food recipes from pinterest, buying online gift cards for ppl instead of putting effort into an actual gift/on the flip side if ur a more creative person putting a lot of thought into gifts, being good at making things from scratch, being more wealthy in online games than in real life, being obsessed w the papa’s food games on cool math as a kid, holding grudges against ppl who kill u on roblox, liking scents that smell like food or scents that make u smell rich/boujee, always making money, making money online

☿ mercury in 3h core

double texting bc u have sm to say and will forget abt it if u don’t type it immediately, being able to get lots of followers on social media, being gossiped abt online, being a huge reader, enjoying hearing abt other ppls drama but not wanting to be in any, having a child-like energy (this can be in a positive or negative way depending on what vibration ur at in life), saying childish things in arguments when ur at a lower vibration (example: meh meh meh :p), drama following u wherever u go, aging well, being obsessed with sims, not believing things unless there’s very good reasoning to back them up, being able to communicate well, being a talented writer, forming all ur opinions from ur older siblings (if u have any), math or literature being ur favorite subject, being a good driver, enjoying traveling but not for too long bc u get tired quickly of it, being charming af, being witty and quickly thinking of good jokes

☿ mercury in 4h core

posting all ur feelings on social media or going thru that emo phase in middle school where u would post those sad lyric vids on ur snapchat, ur family gossiping abt u a lot and u overhearing it in the next room, having a super low pain tolerance, enjoying watching self care vids, getting baby fever after seeing tiktoks of cute babies, being a rly good person to come to if someone needs a comfort person, living in an rv/camper at some point in ur life, telling ur mom everything and her giving u advice abt certain situations but then u don’t listen and she ends up being right abt the whole thing, coming to ur mom for advice on everything in general, ur mom being more childish than u, being able to write stories that readers rly emotionally relate to a lot, ur mom having videos of u still up on her facebook from when u were little that still haunt u to this day

☿ mercury in 5h core

being creative as hell, being a natural performer, having a fun childlike energy, being a huge risk taker and thrill seeker, being a talented actor, being rly good at video games and possibly becoming famous from playing them, living for the drama but not wanting to be a part of it, downloading tinder and not knowing y u don’t just delete it, being sassy, being told ur trying to hard to be the main character but u literally r the main character and can’t help that, not having ur first love until ur an adult and only experiencing puppy love in ur youth, going to a bunch of concerts, being turned on by wattpad stories and feeling like a whore bc of it, flirting w ppl online and then being scared to say anything to them in person when u see each other, being a good driver

☿ mercury in 6h core

ppl saying u come off super innocent (even if ur not), constantly doing things for others even when they don’t give the same energy in return, being obsessed with improving ur health or with videos online abt being healthy/fit, feeling awful before going to school bc it gives u horrible anxiety and makes u feel like ur gonna puke, thinking ur gonna get a stroke every time u have a normal headache (and being a hypochondriac in general), not functioning without consistency in ur life, having an entire pinterest board of cute animals, being good with animals, being obsessed w ur hygiene and feeling nasty when u don’t shower everyday, weirdly loving medical shows such as greys anatomy, having a lot of stomach issues

☿ mercury in 7h core

convincing ppl to do things with ur charm, wanting to tell ppl something and be honest with them but being too scared bc u don’t want them to hate u and r constantly afraid u’ll hurt them, copying ur romantic partners slang/ur partners copying urs, meeting lovers online, dating or marrying gemini/virgo placements, having age gaps in ur relationships, getting into a lot of conflicts online, ur ex partner/ex best friends posting abt u and subbing u (not saying ur name directly but talking abt u) online after u have a fallout, flirting with ppl on club penguin or roblox when u were younger, changing ur opinions easily based on what ur partner or close friends think, dating ppl when ur too young to even drive, posting a lot abt ur relationship online

☿ mercury in 8h core

analyzing ppl well and understanding them before anyone else does, ppl randomly telling u their deepest darkest secrets when u didn’t even ask, being interested in the way ppls minds work which leads u to become obsessed w books abt psychology/astrology/tarot/etc, starting to masturbate from a rly young age that’s almost concerning, having a lot of mental health issues bc of ur childhood trauma, using dark humor as a way to cope with ur trauma, not realizing how much trauma u’ve went thru until someone verbally tells u that u’ve been thru a lot (usually a therapist), being a tomboy as a kid, being obsessed with true crime, being told ur mysterious, saying out of pocket shit that has high shock value, being stalked online

☿ mercury in 9h core

having a more optimistic mindset than everyone around u, enjoying traveling a lot, wanting to leave ur hometown as soon as possible, driving when traveling instead of taking a plane cuz u don’t wanna pay for the flight, majoring in communications or something involving technology or literature, having an interest in other cultures more than ur own, coming off as intelligent bc of the way u talk and ur mannerisms, being told that u could be a good lawyer from a young age, being a good interviewer, knowing multiple languages, having logical ethics, being a comedian, being an amazing story teller

☿ mercury in 10h core

trying to keep ur daily life private and ppl still getting in ur business, being able to influence the public easily bc they seem to care a lot abt what u say, being famous on social media, being a famous singer, rumors being spread abt u to the public, having a talent for teaching others, having goals that u set as a kid that u feel u must fulfill, having a career involving cars, having a career involving technology, having a career involving writing/literature, being seen as someone who’s intelligent (especially in ur workplace), having dad humor, coming off as a know it all (10h is associated with experts and mercury is the thinking/the mind), being known for ur humor and how funny u r, playing online games that involve having a job such as papa’s freezeria

☿ mercury in 11h core

having random bursts of creative ideas and doing crazy stuff like writing an entire movie and then literally forgetting abt it the next day, ur best friends being ur siblings, having the most random thought processes, being able to make friends easily, having lots of online friends, being clumsy as hell, having a fan page/editing page when u were younger, being known as “the weird kid” in school (this doesn’t mean it’s always in a bad way tho it can mean in a unique/fun way), being popular online, having unique mannerisms, having a unique voice/unique speech patterns, being a good rapper, being dragged into online drama, cussing a lot, saying random things out of nowhere like ice bear from we bare bears, having a lot of ideas that r unique bc u think outside of the box, having unique perceptions, constantly changing ur mind abt things

☿ mercury in 12h core

speaking/writing things into existence with minimal effort, being obsessed with the feeling of nostalgia and making urself feel it then regretting it bc it hurts, ppl interrupting u and talking over u a lot, ppl ignoring what ur saying and making u feel like a ghost, having a huge interest in spiritual things, manipulating and lying a lot when at a lower vibration, being bullied (especially as a kid/in school), feeling lonely even when ur literally socializing or at a social function, having an astrology account, having more online friends than friend’s in person, daydreaming a lot in social settings (and in general), gaslighting ppl when at a lower vibration, being able to speak to the dead thru ur dreams, hearing ppl talking when ur half asleep, sleep walking, being sensitive to things ppl say but trying to hide it, healing ppl through ur words, hiding ur true thoughts abt someone, hiding ur true intentions, having strong emotional intelligence when at a high vibration, easily figuring out what someone’s feeling, being able to do rly good impressions

[goldfades]

COMFORT ─── PAIGE BUECKERS

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2.1k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | (request: you’re injured and paige takes care of you w her knowledge from her own injuries) you tear your ACL during a pivotal time in your college basketball career, but paige makes sure you never feel alone.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | descriptions of ACL tear/recovery, hurt to comfort, sweet!paige, nothing else... just sweet hurt to comfort

The world doesn’t end the way you thought it would. It doesn’t explode into fire and chaos. It doesn’t even slow down. Instead, it keeps spinning, indifferent to your pain, while you sit in the sterile silence of the trainer’s office with your head in your hands.

You hear the trainer’s voice—calm, practiced, rehearsed in a way that’s meant to comfort but fails miserably. The words barely register. Partial tear. Complete tear. ACL. Surgery. Out for the season. Each one feels like a slap, sharp and deliberate. They echo in your head, refusing to settle.

You were supposed to be untouchable. Unstoppable. Instead, you’re here, clutching your knee and trying to keep the tears at bay. Except it’s no use, and the first one spills over, hot and unforgiving, sliding down your cheek as you bite down hard on your lip to muffle the sob threatening to break loose.

“Hey,” a voice breaks through the haze, soft but sure, and you’d know it anywhere. Paige.

She’s leaning in the doorway, her face pulled tight with concern, her blue eyes scanning yours like she’s trying to piece you back together. You can tell she’s walked into this kind of scene before—hell, she’s lived it. She doesn’t wait for you to say anything. She just steps inside, closing the door behind her, as if the world outside doesn’t deserve to see you like this.

Her sneakers squeak against the floor as she moves closer, crouching down in front of you. “Talk to me,” she says quietly. Her voice is steady, but her hands are hesitant as they hover near your knee. It’s like she’s afraid touching you will hurt more than it helps.

You shake your head, throat too tight to speak, and look away because meeting her gaze feels like admitting you’re broken.

“Look at me,” Paige says, and this time there’s a firmer edge to her voice, one that doesn’t leave room for argument. “You’re allowed to be upset. You’re allowed to cry. Just—don’t shut me out, okay?”

You sniff, dragging the sleeve of your hoodie across your face like that’s going to fix the mess you feel like. “I—” you start, and your voice cracks. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Her expression softens, and she nods. “I know,” she says simply, like she really does know. Like she’s lived through this storm and found the words she wishes someone had told her.

You don’t fight it anymore. The tears come in full force, and she’s there, catching them in the space between her hands and your shattered pride.

Paige doesn’t flinch when you finally break. She doesn’t pull back, doesn’t make any effort to shush you. Instead, she stays close, her presence steady and grounding as the sobs wrack through you. She waits, letting you cry, like she knows there’s no point trying to stop the flood. She’s been where you are—she understands that grief is messy, raw, and loud.

When you finally start to calm, your chest heaving as you pull in shaky breaths, Paige shifts. Her hands settle on either side of your chair, her fingers curling lightly against the frame. She’s close now, closer than she was before, and it forces you to meet her gaze. Her eyes are so blue it’s almost unnerving, but there’s nothing cold in them. They’re soft and warm and completely locked onto you.

“You’re going to be okay,” she says, her voice low but firm, like she’s willing it into existence. “Not right now. Not tomorrow. But you will be. I promise.”

You huff a bitter laugh, wiping at your tear-streaked cheeks. “How do you know?” you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “You don’t know what this feels like.”

Paige tilts her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a second, you’re afraid you’ve pissed her off, but then she shifts again, sitting back on her heels. “You’re right,” she says evenly, and you feel a flicker of guilt until she continues, her voice quiet. “I don’t know exactly what this feels like for you. But I do know what it’s like to have everything ripped away. To feel like your body betrayed you.”

Your eyes widen as the words hit you like a punch to the gut. You don’t have to ask what she’s talking about—her injuries are part of her story, the kind of thing reporters love to milk for drama. You’ve heard the whispers in the locker room, the jokes people make about her being made of glass. But hearing her say it, hearing the crack in her voice as she lays it out for you, is something entirely different.

She leans forward, resting her forearms on her knees as she looks up at you. “When I tore my ACL, I felt like my world ended. Like everything I’d worked for was gone, and I didn’t know who I was without basketball.” She pauses, glancing down at her hands. “And when it happened again? I didn’t think I’d ever come back. But I did. And you will too.”

The words land heavy between you, their weight almost too much to carry. You want to believe her, but the doubts are louder, screaming in your head like a storm. You shake your head, your voice trembling as you speak. “What if I don’t? What if I can’t—”

“You will,” Paige interrupts, her tone sharpening. She reaches out then, her hand closing gently over yours. It’s the first time she’s touched you, and the warmth of her palm against yours is enough to still your spiraling thoughts for a moment. “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but this injury? It doesn’t define you. You’re so much more than just a basketball player.”

The sincerity in her voice catches you off guard. She’s not just saying it to make you feel better—it’s like she genuinely believes it, like she sees something in you that you can’t see in yourself.

For the first time since the trainer delivered the news, you feel the tiniest flicker of something—hope, maybe. It’s faint and fragile, but it’s there, tucked beneath the layers of hurt and doubt.

You nod slowly, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m scared.”

Paige’s grip on your hand tightens, just enough to ground you. “I know,” she says softly. “And that’s okay. But you don’t have to do this alone, okay? I’ve got you.”

Her words settle over you like a blanket, their warmth chasing away some of the chill that’s been clinging to you all day. You don’t say anything, but the way your fingers curl around hers is enough.

In that moment, you know this won’t be easy. It won’t be quick. But with Paige by your side, maybe—just maybe—you’ll find your way through.

A week passes, but it feels like a lifetime. In some ways, the days blur together—endless stretches of ice packs, pain meds, and quiet moments spent on the couch as your knee heals, your body’s recovery slower than you ever thought possible. The swelling subsides little by little, but the emotional toll still lingers. It’s not just the injury itself; it’s everything that comes with it—the sense of being lost, of not knowing who you are without the game you’ve built your life around.

Through it all, Paige is there. Every step. Every moment.

You didn’t ask her to stay. You didn’t need to. She just… did. She’s in your apartment more than you are, rearranging the furniture to make sure it’s easier for you to move around, grabbing your crutches when you forget them, offering you soft smiles that somehow make everything feel less heavy.

At first, you thought it would be temporary. Maybe she’d check in now and then, offer a few encouraging words, and then go back to her life. But Paige doesn’t leave. She doesn’t even give you a chance to feel like a burden before she’s sitting next to you, flipping through a medical textbook she found in your living room, looking up at you with that concerned-but-gentle expression as she explains exactly what your recovery is going to look like.

“You need to ice it after every physical therapy session, okay?” she says one morning, kneeling beside you on the couch. Her face is close—too close, but you don’t mind it. “And remember, no jumping for at least three months. Even if it feels okay, you’ve got to take it slow.”

You nod, your attention drifting to the way her hair falls into her eyes, the soft blue of her UConn hoodie clinging to her frame. She’s spent the last few days talking you through every little detail, but you’re more focused on the way her presence fills the space, making the room feel less empty. Less… lonely.

She doesn’t seem to mind when you have to ask the same questions over and over, doesn’t grow frustrated when you get teary or frustrated with yourself. She just holds you—gently, quietly, as if she’s got all the time in the world to wait for you to heal.

A few days in, you wake up from a nap to find her sitting on the floor beside you, her back against the couch, her head tilted back against the armrest as she takes a short rest. You smile faintly, surprised at how natural it feels to have her here, like this.

She stirs as you move, glancing up at you with a sleepy smile. “Hey, you’re up,” she says, pushing herself into a sitting position. She doesn’t even look tired, though you know she’s been here, practically living with you. The sleep-deprived bags under her eyes tell a different story, but she never complains. She just brushes it off and makes sure you’re okay.

“You don’t have to keep doing this, you know,” you murmur, your voice soft but filled with a weight you hadn’t expected to carry. “I mean, you’ve got your own stuff to do. Your recovery, your workouts—”

“Don’t,” she interrupts, her eyes serious. She reaches out to take your hand, her grip warm and steady. “You’re not a burden. You’re never a burden to me, okay?”

You swallow, the lump in your throat growing thicker. The truth is, you want to believe her, but you can’t shake the guilt that gnaws at you. It’s been a week, and Paige hasn’t left your side, hasn’t hesitated to show up for you in every way possible. She doesn’t even hesitate when she has to pick you up from your appointments, drive you around, carry your bags—her whole world seems to revolve around making sure you’re okay.

“I’m here because I want to be here,” she adds softly, her thumb running over the back of your hand. “I know what it’s like to be in your shoes, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She says it so easily, so confidently. You can see it in the way she moves, the way she holds herself around you. There’s a softness to her that’s more than just kindness. It’s her care, her understanding, her quiet insistence that you will get through this.

Later that evening, after another grueling round of physical therapy, you slump down onto the couch in exhaustion, your leg elevated with an ice pack resting on your knee. Paige sits next to you, gently brushing your hair back from your forehead. You glance at her, trying to keep your voice light. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Take care of me like this. I mean, it’s not like you don’t have your own recovery stuff going on, too. And yet, here you are—every single day.”

Paige’s smile is soft, but there’s something fierce behind it. She doesn’t look away as she answers, her voice quiet but filled with conviction. “Because I love you.”

You blink at her, the words catching you off guard. There’s a warmth in your chest that spreads like wildfire, catching you off guard, even as you try to fight it. But you can’t. Not with Paige here, not with the way she’s been by your side without hesitation, without complaint.

You pull your knee up, adjusting it so you can sit facing her. “I love you too,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can second-guess them.

She tilts her head, her smile gentle and soft, her eyes searching yours like she’s waiting for something more. “You don’t have to say it just because I did,” she teases lightly. But you can see the glimmer of emotion in her eyes, the way she holds your gaze a moment longer before looking away.

But then, just like that, she’s leaning over to gently press a kiss to your temple. The touch is sweet, tender, and full of love—like a promise, a reminder that, no matter what happens with your knee, she’ll be there.

In that moment, with her warmth beside you, you know that you don’t have to walk this road alone. Paige will carry you through this. And maybe—just maybe—you can find your way back to the game, to yourself, with her by your side.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[transmutationisms]

have you seen the articles on ai supposedly eating up tons of water a day on continuous use? bc ive only seen those articles circulate in spaces where they also think ai doesnt have a soul and is stealing art so. i was wondering if you had any thoughts. i tried to go through and compare them w the water usage of other common things (ie normal office laptops, planes, etc) but stats of this kind isnt really my strong suit

to my knowledge, those articles are true, but a bit misleading in that they don't tend to discuss the context (resource use for computing in general). i think the implicit argument is that, when it's 'ai' using water, this is a particular travesty because 'ai' is particularly stupid / useless / unethical. which is not really a good way to frame this discussion because it evades a broader conversation about resource use and technology. i think the tech sector is like the meat industry in that the current consumption levels by a very small number of wealthy westerners are simply unsustainable and will not scale; that doesn't mean that in a communist future no computers or animal foods will exist, but the idea that it's normal to eat meat daily or replace a smartphone every 24 months or whatever is pretty blatantly predicated on imperial relations of exploitation and resource extraction.

so just to say that i don't know what is the place of 'ai' in a just and sustainable degrowth communism, but determining that requires a much broader conversation about technology and access to it. it's silly to act like 'ai' is uniquely a problem in terms of the tech sector's resource consumption (i think people are modelling this on the wave of similr articles about cryptocurrency, but many of those were also silly and the ones that weren't, were pointing out that crypto mining requires massive amounts of redundant work to be done, and in that sense actually is more wasteful than other comtech).

i'm also not sure that the comparisons to, like, pouring out a bottle of water are accurate because can't the cooling water be reused? i don't know enough about data facility practices to answer that though lol

[noxiatoxia]

I don't know if this is common knowledge, but Komaeda's talent in Japanese is not "Ultimate Lucky Student". It is "Ultimate Good Fortune" (or good luck).

I know the word "lucky" has connotations with being good luck, but "luck" itself seems neutral to me at least.

I think the fact Komaeda is praised for, and has his talent be centered on, his good fortune is a very important nuance. People only see the good that happens to him. People keep telling him what happens to him is "good luck". His parents dying and getting kidnapped end up being called "good luck" in the end. I think this reinforces his pattern of thought more than people just saying he has extraordinary luck (good and bad). It's a minor difference, but it adds a lot. I have been thinking about this for a little bit now.

Because of the fact it is good luck specifically, I wanted to find parts where Komaeda specifically talks about bad luck. Lines such as "my awful luck/dreadful luck..." doesn't make much sense in the context of his Japanese talent. It made me wonder if those English lines even existed or if it was a "Luke, I am your father" situation. I don't have either the English or Japanese script memorized.

I checked the Freetime Events because of this, and found an interesting thing. There's a number of mistranslations, or simply translation choices I don't really agree with.

The freetime events heavily misrepresent how often Komaeda uses the word "luck". He uses both 不幸 and 不運 an equal amount I'd say. Maybe the former more. The former means "misery" "sorrow" or "misfortune". The latter means "bad luck" or "ill-fortune".

Likewise, 幸運 means good luck, but it also means good fortune. It's the word used in his talent as I described above.

Now, that's not to say I think Komaeda's "talent" should not be referred to as luck, nor am I saying he should never use the word luck. I think good and bad luck is a perfectly apt English word to describe his experiences. I just think the English translation overuses it. It wouldn't have killed them to make him say "isn't that just awful" or "what a tragedy, right?" instead of "isn't that such bad luck?" every conceivable moment. Maybe I'm just nit picky.

Now, onto the free time events. I want to talk about them.

I'll be talking about them in order as they appear. Also, I am only going to talk about the 3rd event onward, after Komaeda's chapter 1 reveal.

Freetime event 3

A minor nitpick, but "friends" is not the word I'd use here. It's true you can translate it that way, but considering everything else about Komaeda, at this point in the game, he wouldn't readily call Hinata his friend. Especially considering the connotations that holds for him.

That's precisely likely why he, in fact, doesn't say "friend" in the Japanese text. He uses 仲間 which like I said, while can and does translate as friend when used in that way, it just means people of a common thread. Like, a group, I guess.

My TL:

Because we both share the common goal of seeking out hope!

Freetime event 4

This is a really bad translation IMO. Hope is never said once in the original dialogue. I don't know why they put it there.

My TL:

Hinata: It's pretty ironic that you got wrapped up in this shitshow considering your "Ultimate Good Luck". Komaeda: It's not ironic at all! This is no doubt just the beginning of the good things to come my way! Komaeda: Um, let's just say the "good luck" I was born with is a little less straightforward [than the name would suggest]... Komaeda: once this is all over, I'll be rewarded with good fortune of the highest caliber.

And though this next one isn't much of a "mistranslation", I want to offer an alternative translation that highlights my criticism of "overusing the words good/bad luck".

My TL:

Komaeda: The greater the misfortune I experience before hand...the greater the good that comes my way afterwards! It completely cancels out everything before it!

Freetime event 5

I sadly cannot find in-game pictures of this since it's one of the wrong dialogue choices, so here's the script file text for it instead (sorry)

I remembered this line in English specifically because I always thought it sounded weird for Komaeda to say - "It's rare to hear you give such a half-assed answer".

While not a mistranslation totally, I think the tone is a bit off.

I would write it more as, "Ah ha ha! That's quite the answer, Hinata-kun!"

It literally translates as "for Hinata-kun, that is a very suitable answer!" but it's clearly supposed to be teasing/sarcastic. So he means to say "oh, wow, Hinata-kun, you're answering with that?" but in a lighthearted tone.

Freetime event 6

Almost didn't include this because it's the mistranslation we all know and hate, but it's worth mentioning in case people don't know.

My TL:

Please, just one last thing...don't ever forget...that from the bottom of my heart, I love y...I love your hope that sleep dormant inside you.

Though he does just say "please, don't forget", he uses どうか which is a pretty polite turn of phrase for Komaeda. It also is a way to emphasize a request, as in please do this to the benefit of me.

He backtracks pretty heavily. The verb comes at the end in Japanese sentences, so giving an exact one-to-one would be hard, but I'll try to explain it.

ボクはキミを... キミの中に眠る希望を心から愛していると。

Boku wa Kimi wo... Kimi no naka ni nemuru kibou wo koko kara aishiteiru to.

の/no = possessive. Such as, "Lucy's cat" "David's car".

を/wo = verb particle. There's no real English equivalent but you use it to signify some verb is being done onto something. Such as, "I kicked the ball" ("ball wo kick") or "I pet the cat" ("cat wo pet").

は/wa = topic particle. Commonly translates as "is/am" but that is NOT what it means. It just signifies everything that comes after it relates back to what comes before it. It's most accurate to think it as "as for the topic of..." Such as, "my damaged car wa had to go into the repair shop." After wa, "had to go into the repair shop", you ask, "what had to go into the repair shop?" you can find the answer in the topic, which is before wa: my damaged car. (or... me no damaged car.)

So, with this knowledge, let's break down the sentence.

Boku = I/me.

Kimi = you.

So this would make Boku wa Kimi wo in it's most literal form: as for the topic of me (aka, speaking for me), I, onto you...

Then he trails off. wo becomes no.

I, onto your hope sleeping inside of you...

and then we return to wo:

from the bottom of (one's) heart, love [the hope sleeping inside of you].

One could easily see it as Komaeda quickly changing the wo to no to add extra steps to not make the confession so head-on. Because if we remove everything after no and just continue where the wo leaves off, we get:

Boku wa Kimi wo koko kara aishiteiru to.

As for me, I, from the bottom of my heart, love you.

Now...one could also read it as him not backtracking, but adding. Saying I love you and the hope that lies dormant within you. Both are equally plausible. Listening to the audio it can go either way, but the way he quickly and softly drops off when he gets to the first wo makes me feel like it's a backtrack. Or maybe the background music is just too loud haha.

Well, that's all I got for now.

[iamthemain-character]

BG3 Companions and Christmas Trees

astarion x reader, gale x reader, halsin x reader, karlach x reader, shadowheart x reader, wyll x reader

gender neutral reader

CW: none this is toothrotting fluff

BG3 Masterlist

Astarion

“I do believe you should place that one a little to the left.” 

You turned your gaze from the needled branches in front of you to glare at your lounging lover. Astarion was perched against the cushions, wine glass in hand that he sipped with a smug smirk. “Perhaps you would like to come help me?” 

The white-haired man laughed, as if the very idea was amusing. “Why should I, when the view from here is so much more appeasing?” As if to emphasize his point, Astarion dragged his gaze appreciatively from your head down to your toes, dramatically running his tongue over his top teeth. 

You simply shook your head, however, not so easily swayed by his seductive glances. “If you want a say in how the tree looks, then you should come put up the ornaments by yourself.” 

“And deny myself the pleasure of watching you fuss and stress over every single glittery decoration? I think not.” Astarion settled further into the couch, eyes as red as the sphere in your hand looking over your work with delight. 

You sighed, rolling your eyes to yourself, but you simply continued to decorate, making sure that every spot on the snowy tree was filled in. Astarion managed to bite his tongue for a little while, though you pretended not to hear the muttered commentary he maintained for his own amusement. 

Finally, when you felt like you could no longer stare at glittery ornaments and shining lights, you moved back from the tree, picking up your now slightly cold mug of hot chocolate. “Does it look even to you?” 

“It looks wonderful, darling.” Astarion replied, appraising the tree with his gaze. 

“Do you think it looks uneven?” 

Astarion smiled, quirking his expressive eyebrows as he turned his gaze to you. “You just spent the last hour and a half placing each decoration, and you think it looks uneven?”

You huffed, your own eyebrows drawing together in concern. “Maybe I need to move-”

As you began to walk back towards the Christmas tree, you feel Astarion’s hands grasp onto your hips, firm and demanding as he pulled you down onto the couch. The moment you were seated in his lap, his cool lips found the warm skin of your neck, pressing kisses there. “It’s perfect, my love.” He murmured, his long fingers sneaking their way up under your sweater, caressing the skin of your waist. “You are perfect. Now, come enjoy this perfect evening with me.” 

You couldn’t help but relent, relaxing against his chest, finally allowing yourself to simply admire the hard work you had put in. Astarion’s white hair melted into yours as he leaned his head against your shoulder, holding you tightly to his body. The two of you basked in the twinkling lights, knowing that the best Christmas gifts you would receive under the tree was the presence of your lover. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gale

“Did you know that Christmas trees actually existed long before the Christian holiday?” 

You paused, hand in mid air as it placed an ornament, tilting your head to look at your lover on the opposite side of the Christmas tree. “What?”

Gale glanced at you, smiling brightly as he continued placing the decorations. “The Winter Solstice was the original cause for the winter celebrations. Many ancient people believed that the sun was a god, and that winter meant the god was sick; therefore, the shortest day, which also marked the beginning of the recovery of their god.” 

You nod slowly, fighting back your smile of mild amusement at his seemingly random knowledge. “I see. So where did the trees come in?”

“Well, it wasn’t always necessarily a tree, but many ancient societies chose evergreen flora because it reminded them of how everything would be green once more when their god was healthy again.” Gale replies, sounding more and more like a professor with every word. Not that you truly minded; it was quite endearing seeing him in his element. 

That amusement was challenged, however, as you moved over to his side of the tree. Where you had carefully considered the placement of each bauble and bow, Gale seemed to have simply hung up the ornaments with no rhyme or reason to them. You were grateful that at least you had chosen a color scheme, or else your tree truly would have been in trouble. 

“Germany is the first recorded source of Christians decorating trees for the yuletide. And then, of course, there was the English Queen Victoria, who brought the tradition as we know it now.” Gale rambled on, blissfully unaware of his tactless decorating decisions. “Not that we still use candles to light our tree. Though I would not be opposed to the attempt, were everything else not so flammable. Though perhaps if we removed the curtains from the windows…”

“I think the electric lights are perfect.” You interject, knowing that he might very well attempt the hazardous idea. 

Gale smiles down at you, nodding approvingly. “Quite right, my dear. Why waste the delights of modern technology. Especially when we have created such a spectacular tree!”

You felt his warm chest press into your back as he moved to you, his lips pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. You relaxed, letting his body support you as you gazed at the tree. Despite the ornaments being uneven, you couldn’t help but smile at the glowing tree. “We did pretty good.”

Gale smiles brightly, hands affectionately squeezing your hips. “Of course we did. We are an excellent team! And now, we are fully prepared for the holiday celebrations.” He pauses, dipping his and bringing his lips to your ear. “Though, you are the only gift I wish to unwrap. Perhaps you will even let me do so under the tree?” 

And who were you to deny wishes at Christmas? 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Halsin

It was huge. Absolutely massive. And Halsin couldn’t have looked prouder. 

“One Christmas tree, as requested.” His warm voice rumbled, pleased as a cat with a mouse. 

You tried to school your expression, but it was difficult to do so when your lover was standing at your door, a real, previously live spruce tree laying in the snow beside him. “How did you…?”

Halsin looked down at the snow coated evergreen, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I went out to the woods, and I came upon this conifer. I would have counseled with you to ensure it was the kind you wanted, but I wished to surprise you.” He added, a soft, almost sheepish smile curling on his lips. 

“I’m certainly surprised.” You say slowly. You had merely mentioned that morning that you needed to pick up a Christmas tree, and here Halsin was in front of you after quite literally cutting one down for you. You looked up into his face, matching his smile with a warm one of your own. “I love it.” 

Within a short time, the burly man managed to bring your tree inside; it looked a little cramped in the corner of your living room, the very top having barely enough room to fit, but you could not deny the appeal of the real tree. Everything smelled of pine, and even though Halsin was covered in sap and pine needles, it only added to this charm. 

“Do you want to help me decorate?” You look over to your lover, heart warmed by the sight of his rosy cheeks as he warmed up from the cold. 

“I will leave that in your skillful hands, my heart,” Halsin chuckled, holding up his hands. “I do not pretend to hold the talent for such things. Though I will most gladly assist you in whatever way you need me.” 

You smiled at him, even more endeared by his giving nature. Heart full of gratitude, you crossed the floor to him, getting on tiptoe as you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He immediately reciprocated, lifting you off your feet as he pressed you against his chest, his strong hands splayed across your shoulder blades and your backside. It never ceased to amaze you how much feeling he could pour into a simple touch, making you fall more in love with him every time. 

Tilting your head back, he quickly captured your lips in a deep kiss, all consuming in the movement of his mouth against yours. You practically melted in his hold, unbothered by his sappy hands as they worshipped your body. 

“I spotted a bit of mistletoe on my walk back.” He murmurs against your lips. “I will bring it tomorrow, so that we might uphold the tradition to its fullest.” 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Karlach 

You heard your lover come in through the door, familiar heavy footsteps musically knocking off snow as she wiped her feet. Your delight, however, was soon mixed with confusion, as you didn’t hear her usual jovial call of, “I’m home!” Tentatively, you came out of the kitchen, moving into the living room of the house. 

There, the muscular woman was tiptoeing across the floor,  and you could see little sprigs of pine peeking around her.  “Karlach?”

Like a kid caught with Santa’s cookies, Karlach’s head turned, eyes wide as she looked over her shoulder at you. “Hello beautiful.” She greeted, giving a sheepish smile. “How was your day?”

“It was good.” You cross your arms, slowly walking towards her, only for Karlach to step away a little. You pause, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” 

Karlach hesitated a moment, looking down at whatever was in front of her, then back to you. She seemed to come to a decision, letting out a big sigh. “I saw a Christmas tree farm on my way home, and I…”

The tall woman stepped aside, finally allowing you to look upon her mystery: the ugliest christmas tree you had ever seen. Standing at barely four feet tall, it was a symmetrical nightmare, the branches too small at the base and too large toward the top. That was, what branches did exist, the rest of the tree full of gaping holes. The trail of pine needles from the front door across the living room did not give you confidence in the tree’s ability to live. It was, all in all, the saddest little evergreen to exist. 

But when you lifted your eyes to look at Karlach, your face contorted in confusion, her big, orange eyes were like gazing at a newborn puppy. Her expression was a mix of pleading and fondness, her lower lip unconsciously pouting a little. 

“You bought a tree…” You say slowly, trying to be careful with how you said it. 

“Look, I know its not exactly one of them big, fancy trees like in the pictures. But this little guy was on the side of the road, and he was just calling to my heart.” Karlach looks down at the scrubby tree with a tender smile. “I promise, we can get a proper tree, I just couldn’t leave him there. He needs a little love at Christmastime too.” 

You give a soft huff of laughter, smiling to yourself; Karlach’s big heart was seemingly endless, which was one of the things you adored about her. “He…he’s beautiful, Karlach. I’m sure with some lights and a star, he’ll be the perfect tree for us.” 

Giving up the idea of a picture perfect tree was well worth it when you saw the smile that lit up Karlach’s face. She let go of the tree, rushing forward and gathering you up in a bone crushing hug. “Oh I love you! Thank you, thank you thank you!”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around her and pressing a sweet kiss to her warm lips. “Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t seen me put lights on a tree yet.” 

By the end of the evening, the two of you had the most unique and odd looking Christmas tree to exist. But in your eyes, it was the best tree you had ever had, a reminder of the loving and caring hands that brought it to you. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Shadowheart 

For your entire life, you held the annual putting up the Christmas tree as one of your favorite occasions. You would set aside a special time just to dedicate yourself to perfecting it, indulging in a rare moment of complete holiday bliss. 

In comparison to Shadowheart, however, your tradition was but a mere pittance in the name of Christmas. 

On the morning of November first, you were peacefully asleep in your shared bed, resting after a late night of Halloween festivities. You briefly stirred, reaching out to wrap your arms around Shadowheart, only to find an empty, cold mattress under your grip. You noticed, with a smile, however, that she had carefully tucked her worn and weathered stuffed cat next to you, as if to replace her in her absence. 

Slowly you got up, stretching and allowing your body to adjust to its conscious state. You meandered out of your bedroom, heading down to the kitchen, the scent of pancakes and maple filling your nose. Your sight takes over your senses next as you spot your wife at the stove, her long dark hair piled on top of her head as she cooks. 

You pad across the kitchen tiles, coming up behind her and wrapping your arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Good morning.”

Shadowheart glances at you, her lips pulling into a little pout. “Aw, you’re awake. I was going to try to bring you breakfast in bed.” 

You give a soft laugh at her expression, letting her go and moving to the side so she could flip the pancakes. “What’s the occasion?”

Shadowheart finished expertly tossing the pancakes, the golden brown side now facing upwards. She gave you a look, her eyebrows quirking upwards. “It's the first day of the Christmas season, which means that we need to go get a Christmas tree from the farm!” 

“My heart, Christmas trees only last four weeks.” You give her a gentle reminder.

Shadowheart simply smiles at that, shrugging. “I know that. That’s why we’ll get a new one when December comes. This is our November tree.” She softens her gaze, giving you a look you can’t resist. “I just can’t wait to celebrate Christmas with you.” 

Your heart melted, and you pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. “Then let's go get a tree together.”

The delight that appears on her face is so sweet and so genuine that it warms your heart. “Oh, I’m so excited! I’ve been doing this for years.” She takes your hand, leading you over to the table, which she’s laid with cute plates and silverware. “No need to worry about deciding on an outfit, I already have these matching sweaters for us. And once you’re dressed, I can do your hair in that way that you like. Oh, and I got us matching boots; we’ll need them.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had laughed then, but as the time denoted the approach of a third hour at the Christmas Tree Farm, you realized just how serious she was. You had certainly enjoyed your time, drinking peppermint hot chocolate together, taking cute pictures in the snow, and admiring the hand crafted christmas decor. But as Shadowheart led you around the lot a fifth time, you were beginning to wonder if this was going to ever end. 

“My heart, what is it exactly that you’re looking for?” 

“The tree.” She replied, her tone indicating that she thought it was a full answer. 

“What exactly is the tree supposed to look like?” You tentatively press further, trying to understand what the dark-haired woman was looking for. 

“None of these.” She scoffs, giving a dirty look to one tree as she passes by. “Our tree must be perfect.” 

You think of saying something about how nothing is perfect, or suggesting maybe that she should lower her stands for real live trees, but you ultimately decide to remain quiet, seeing how this was important to her. 

As Shadowheart stopped to analyze a blue spruce, you decided to wander a little looking around for yourself. As you walk around, you notice out of the corner of your eye a little pathway between the trees, leading to an area you hadn’t seen before. 

“Shadowheart, come look at this.” You called, intertwining her hand with yours as you guided her through. 

It was the edge of the lot, the snow dusted ground mostly empty as it stretched out to the rest of the fields. But sitting there, standing tall and proud, was a thick, dark green Christmas tree, its boughs forming the ideal cone. As you saw it, you heard Shadowheart gasp, her fingers tightening around yours. 

“You found it.” She whispers almost reverently, her eyes gleaming with joy. 

“I did?”

She turns to look at you, her face as lit up as a Christmas tree itself as she smiles. “It's the Christmas tree. The most perfect, christmassy tree I’ve ever seen.”

You mirror her smile, feeling pleased that you were able to make Shadowheart happy in this small way. “Let's take it home then.”

 “You wait here, and I’ll go find the guy with the saw.” Shadowheart instructs, and she begins to walk towards the red barn, but then she pauses, turning and giving a little run back to you. As light as a snowflake, her lips press against yours, a rush of affection flowing from the kiss. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” You say softly, your heart melting for her despite your chilly surroundings. 

She begins to stride away once again, full of purpose to claim her tree. “Enjoy your little break, because once we get home, we have a lot of decorating to do!” 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Wyll

“You made these?” 

You look over your shoulder from where you perched on the step ladder, trying to adjust the ribbon at the top of the tree. You spotted Wyll at the coffee table, looking down at your cardboard box full of Christmas decorations. His hand dipped inside, carefully pulling out a weathered and slightly dismal reindeer made from popsicle sticks. It was obvious that this had been a product of some festive childhood activity, the wood stuck together with globs of glue, the sparkly pipe cleaners contorted in all kinds of directions. Poor Rudolph only had one eye, the other one most likely lost in his years of service on your family Christmas tree. 

You smiled fondly at the ornament, getting down from the stepladder to go over to Wyll’s side. “I think I made that in the 3rd grade. I wanted to use the glitter glue, but this snobby girl in my class kept hogging it for her reindeer.” 

Wyll chuckled, amused by your anecdote. “Careful babe, you sound a little bitter.” He let you take the ornament, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. 

“Of course I’m bitter!” You huff dramatically, tossing your head. “Can you imagine how cool this would have looked if this had glitter?!” You look down at the dilapidated reindeer in your hands. “And her’s didn’t even look that good.”

Wyll laughs, squeezing you a little. “Don’t you think you’re taking this a little far?” 

You give him a look of mock shock. “No? This was a serious act of injustice against me!” You insist. “Did you never have to fight off the other kids for crafting supplies at school?”

Wyll’s smile faded a little, his eyes looking down. “We never did crafts at the academy. They were deemed too frivolous of an activity that would take away from our studies.” 

Your heart ached for Wyll, recalling his upbringing at the private boarding school his wealthy parents sent him to. “I’m sorry.” You say softly, placing your hand over his heart. “Every child deserves to make their own ornament.” 

Wyll shrugged, placing a kiss against your temple before letting you go, returning to pulling out the decorations from the box. “It doesn't matter now. I’m glad I get to treasure your memories with you.” 

Despite his reassurance, your heart hurt, thinking of everything Wyll had been denied, experiences that he should have had. As you watch him, however, you get an idea, and you slip away with non-specific promises of returning.  

After about ten minutes has passed, Wyll looks around the living room, wondering why you haven’t returned. “Babe? Where did you go?”

“Coming!” You call down the stairs, and after another moment, you excitedly reenter the living room. Your arms are overflowing with materials, cotton balls from the bathroom, old makeup, foil from the kitchen, and an assortment of tapes. 

“What’s all this?” Wyll asks, quickly taking some of the items from your arms before they spill over. Together, the two of you take them to the coffee table, laying them out. 

“We’re going to make our own ornaments. Together.” You say warmly, upturning your face to him. 

For a moment, Wyll is taken aback, not expecting the gesture. But as he looks into your eyes, seeing the sheer love and care you are displaying for him, his heart feels like it's too large for his chest. “I’d like that.”

The two of you sit side by side, backs against the couch, spilling glitter and bits of paper onto the carpet. But in the moment, there is so much whimsy and joy, and the smile on Wyll’s face makes it all worth it.

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ Daddy's Little Dhampir

➳ Summary: All you'd wanted in life was to meet a real life vampire, and by some twist of fate, you got so much more than that (Dad!Vamp!Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, picking up at 6 years post outbreak – references to your childhood

➳ Word count: 2.9k

➳ C/W: Mentions of blood and vampire stuff, allusions to typical TWD gore

➳ A/N: I had to dump this rq while we're still on the vamp train, and thank y'all for all the love n 140+ followers I appreciate y'all 🫶

If you could go back and tell your little nine year old self that vampires were real, she'd lose. her. mind.

The nine year old who checked out every book from the library on them and other folklore creatures, and would sit immersed for hours, taking notes and educating herself before falling asleep in front of it all: but picking it all back up the next day.

The nine year old who urged her friends to come exploring with her in the forest after dark, and proudly said ‘Fine. I'll just do it by myself’ when they all declined. Who trekked over dead leaves with a dim flashlight, who's pulse spiked and excitement grew as noises rustled around her and her gaze shot up to the sky to see a bat fly overhead. Who had the widest smile in existence… just to turn and have a blinding light shone in her face and police officers announce ‘We found her!’ – and who pouted when her parents scolded her for sneaking out before wrapping her in tight hugs and saying they were just glad she was safe, and she snapped back with: ‘I don’ wanna be safe! I wanna find the vampires and I was about to and you guys ruined it!’

The nine year old who eventually fell out of her obsessive phase, but always maintained belief. Who retained every bit of knowledge, and would still step outside sometimes in the night, or veer off her path and wander in the woods while walking somewhere. Who traveled to major cities solely to explore nightclubs and hot spots. Who truly believed deep down in her heart and soul that vampires were real.

If you told her, 25 years from then, she'd not only know a vampire, but be married to him, and sit against the headboard in their bed at home with him beside her, head resting on her shoulder as they both stared down at the newborn infant in her arms… you think she'd pass out. Especially if you added the whole part about an unknown virus sparking a massive outbreak that caused people to rise from the dead and turn into rotting, flesh eating monsters, and in return cause the entirety of society across the globe to collapse, leaving only a fraction of the population alive, and that's how she'd even meet said vampire in the first place – and that it's already been 6 years since then.

But while she may pass out, you didn't. It was ironic, how everything you'd ever dreamt about came true in the one way you'd never imagined it. Despite all the negatives, everything you lost; you gained so many positives: the vampiric love of your life, and the daughter you shared.

The smile on your face was wider than the one in the forest that night so long ago, eyes glued to the baby in front of you that slept so peacefully despite the chaos that surrounded her existence. Simply conceiving her was a challenge atop everything else, given the crossing of your species. You tilted your head to the side, resting against the mans, and murmured an ‘I love you’.

To which he shifted his and brought lips to your jawline, returning the admission as a second nature, it having grown so much easier to express such since he met you. And how could he not pour his heart out and remind you every second how madly, crazily, desperately, needily and obsessively in love with you he was – the same way you were in love with even just the concept of his existence – now that you'd carried, birthed, and held his perfect baby girl in your arms.

The newborn wriggled in adjustment, subconsciously cuddling closer to the warmth of your body, fully reliant on you for survival.

“She's gonna be yer little dhampir, Daryl… Daddy's little dhampir,” You spoke softly, admiring the blessing of her life.

“Yea, she is…” He replied, reaching a hand to stroke the side of her face with a gentle finger, which lulled her back into rest. He lived for you, and now he lived for her.

❥-》》—————➣

You loved your daughter to bits, but those books didn't quite warn you how difficult raising a dhampir would be sometimes.

“God, Daryl- What do I do? How the hell do I feed her?!” You asked frantically as the baby screamed and cried so hard in your hold it was concerning. Breastfeeding didn't quench this thirst, yet she had no teeth to bite into you.

“Fuck, jus’-” Daryl sputtered, grabbing a bottle and a knife, and slicing open his palm, flexing muscles to drain it faster into the container before screwing on the lid and shoving it to you to feed her as he spat into his hand to heal over the wound. Crisis averted.

Luckily, she didn't seem to require blood often, and you two created a better system after that: Daryl building an enclosure in the yard and storing live animals he'd find there so you could drain them when needed.

When her teeth did eventually come in, she had the cutest smile ever – small yet pin-sharp fangs poking through the pinkish gums of her mouth.

“Yea? Yer’ah damn lil’ biter, huh?” Daryl chaffed, playfully flicking splashes at her during bath time as you both sat at the edge of the tub.

She giggled, edges of her mouth curling up as she slapped the surface of the water to try and get him back for it – and he'd always dramatically act like he was hit by a tsunami when in reality it was just a few small drops on his arms. Just to hear her laugh.

The moment she was walking, she was outside, stumbling around and soon running, that instinct to be out in nature clearly taken from her father.

“Poppa,” She whined as you set her down at the bottom of the steps outside the house, her turning back and reaching a grasping hand towards Daryl, the other holding yours, as he took a seat on the steps, sun on the other side of the home and shadow protecting him from the daylight, but not the yard.

“Daddy can only watch right now. Remember the sunlight isn't good for him, okay sweetheart?” You cautiously reminded her as her head looked back to you, too young to wrap her mind around the concept.

He'd watch and talk as you two'd sit in the grass and play, sometimes covering best he could and making the sacrifice anyway just to make his daughter happy. And you'd always go out and play at nighttime anyway.

Growing into a toddler and young child, she was an absolute menace, Daryl just fueling her every troublemaking behavior.

“What in the world are you two doing?!” You called from the stairs, wiping sleep from your eyes and catching Daryl and your daughter immediately freeze, having been loudly chasing each other around downstairs with their enhanced agility in the middle of the night – busted.

The child gave an innocent toothy smile, and Daryl a sheepish grin as she pointed at him. “‘Ts daddy's fault!” She always blamed him when it was 100% her doing.

You rolled your eyes and groaned, pinching your brow. “Dixon, get yer damn daughter to bed and your ass into ours.” It was nowhere near the first time they'd woken you up with such.

“Yes ma'am.” And he took the moment of distraction to grab the child as she kicked and squealed in the interlocking cell his arms created.

Then as she aged, she completely mirrored every aspect of his personality, practically a carbon copy of him.

“Shuddup! Yall'ere ah buncha assholes!”

“Ay! Ya better watch yer mouth girl! Ain't nobody tell ya you could be talkin’ like tha’!” Daryl called across the way, catching hints of her civil argument with some other kids – as civil as a Dixon could be.

“That one really is your fault,” You teased him with a smirk, gently elbowing his side as he rolled his eyes and groaned.

“They called me Lucille cause ‘ima bloodthirsty bat’!” She nor Daryl even possessed the ability to transform. That was more fantasy.

He vanished to deal with it before you could finish your blink, leaving just the energy of his protectiveness in his wake.

—

“Hey ma, I gotcha somethin’!” She practically slid across the edge of the kitchen counter, clasped hand held out to you.

“If this is another big ass bug-”

“It's not! It's not!” She opened to a large stone of jasper. “Found it while wanderin’ – inside the walls –, thought ya might want it cause dad always gets ya ‘em, ‘nd yer ring.” She motioned to the band on your finger, adorned with a jasper center. Daryl started collecting them for you after you'd liked the one he found back near the prison.

—

“Nah, ts'only 4.9. Mine's bigger.” Daryl beamed triumphantly as they each weighed cottontail rabbits they'd caught on a hunt. They always had competitions on who could catch more, or the larger game.

“Tha's not fair! Only weighs less now cause it lost more blood on tha way back than yers did!”

“Still counts. Gotta get'ah cleaner shot, babyfangs. Then ya won’ waste so much.”

So many moments were leagues better than what your imagination curated in your youth, full of that real laughter and care and love that you could only placebo before.

But… some moments of it were the hardest, scariest moments of your life.

“Do you have any traces of her at all? Can you smell her??” You asked worriedly through labored breaths as you ran faster than you had from any person or walker or thing before. Fear pumped through your veins, somehow pushing you to keep up with Daryl's vampiric pace as you sped through the forest, bow on your back and crossbow on his, searching for your daughter.

“Yea, she ain't far. Ts’jus’ hard tah pick ‘er out with tha walkers cloudin’ it,” He grunted back, straining his senses to try and focus in on where she'd be. Sunlight seared his skin, having left the house so quickly he had no time to dress in proper attire. He didn't care, he didn't even feel it over everything he felt for his perfect girl.

“Daddy?” That soft, familiar voice ripped you both from your rush, stopping so fast you nearly toppled over and mutually whipped to take hurdles towards your daughter and wrap her in your arms. Now you truly understood your parents – so, so many years ago; that burning, aching dread to do anything and everything for your baby, to exhaust yourself to find them when they were lost, how it felt to have them in your arms again after thinking the worst thoughts one could illustrate. But there were some situations your parents never had to worry about.

“What? What is it?” You asked in alarm, pulling back to look at your daughter's face as tears started to stream down her cheeks and her gaze flicked away, the teenager so reluctant to be honest. “Please baby, what is it!?”

To your every worst fear, she reached up and pulled the neckline of her shirt aside, revealing the distinctive imprint of a walker's bite carved into the flesh on the nape of her neck.

“M'sorry, m'so sorry- I dun’ kno’ what happened I jus’-” She stammered, unable to find the words or will to begin to explain herself. Your stomach dropped so far you wouldn't be surprised if it was down in the molten core of the Earth.

The neck. It had to be neck. If it was the arm, you could amputate it, maybe she'd even have the chance of regrowing the limb, and same with the leg. If Daryl had converted you to a vampire like you'd talked about once many years ago, she never would've been a dhampir, and would never need to care about the risk walkers posed to her – whole vampiric nature making it impossible for the virus to infect them, able to survive bites and just let them heal over. If you'd payed some more fucking attention to what she was doing and where she was going, she wouldn't even be out here. If this, if that. If-

“Am I gonna die?” She sobbed, looking between you two with the most terrified expression you'd ever seen. You couldn't even register her question before her dad answered. He was always better at those split second response times where every extra beat changed the confidence of a statement.

“Nah. Yer not dyin’. Drink.” Daryl tore away his shirt, craning his neck to expose a spot by his left clavicle, close to his heart so it'd pump the most blood the quickest, and he knelt to her level. She was hesitant. “C'mon. Now!”

You watched as she stepped forward and sunk teeth into him, drawing long siphons of his blood. You prayed the purity of it compared to hers would aid her system in warding off the infection, should a dhamir still be susceptible to it. You didn't know. You didn't know if this would even work. Your heart raced so fast you couldn't even feel it anymore, like your body was already trying to shield you from how it may feel if it breaks.

“Daryl, that's enoug-” You started after a long moment, worried he'd just end up killing himself too. You couldn't lose either of them, but especially not both.

“Nah. Drink till ya can't no more – don’ give'ah damn ‘bout how much ya take,” He barked at you, then lightened his tone for her. He was beginning to feel woozy, pressure building in his head as his body's efforts to replenish struggled to keep up with her anxious draws. But again, he didn't care. He would do anything for her. He would bleed himself dry should it mean even the chance of keeping her alive.

But eventually she retracted her fangs, guilt overpowering the rest of her emotions. How could she live with herself if she was responsible for her own father's death? “Daddy, m'sorry, I-”

“Ya needah… drink, moonshine…” He wavered, and you grabbed him steady before he collapsed, resting him back against a tree trunk as you and your daughter sat on either side.

“Shit, Daryl.. c'mon, drink somma mine,” You urged, tugging your own top out of the way and offering to him.

“Nah, m'not-”

“I told ya to fuckin’ drink it!” In the rare times you raised your voice at him, he'd immediately listen: now driving his canines into your body, but taking far less of your crimson than he needed. He was too selfless for his own good.

You brushed the matted hair from his charring forehead, looking back at your daughter who tried to quiet her cries as she couldn't bring herself to look at him, curling into a ball of her own pity and shame.

“Honey, look at me,” You reached out, sliding your hand to cup her cheek and bring it up, her glassy eyes meeting yours. “I need you to help me get him home, okay? Ts’not safe out here.”

She just sat there for a moment, silently looking at you. She didn't want to accept that any of this was actually happening.

“We're all gonna be okay, so long as we get home. I love you.” That motherly tone melted her, and she nodded a little, unwinding and helping you to hoist the archer up and carry him back to Alexandria.

You kept them both in bed with you, nursing Daryl's drained status back to the typical, and keeping close watch on your daughter for any symptoms of the infection. You stayed there hour after hour, only leaving for brief moments to harvest another rabbit or squirrel for your husband, and fluids for yourself to regenerate as you'd been having him feed from you in intervals.

Your daughter spent most of it distant on the other side of the bed, back to you both, but not asleep. And you frowned.

“Babygirl, come here.” She didn't move, prefering to still act like she had nothing to do with any of this. “Sweetheart…” You reached down and forcibly dragged her up to cuddle between you and her father, soothingly stroking her head as she broke into tears again and he wrapped her in a half-dazed embrace.

Daryl was fine, just a little droopy at this point, and you mutually watched and held your girl. You prayed and pleaded and begged more than you had as a child, for a completely different reason. And to your every actually important hope and dream, a fever never spiked. Her skin never grew sweaty and clammy, eyebags never sagged, never grew weak.

Whether being a dhampir alone saved her, or Daryl's healing components pulled the rest of the weight, it didn't really matter. She was alive, and she'd live, and neither of you would ever allow this to repeat.

That customarily fatal bite turned to a scar, then smoothed back out to the unscathed plane it was before. Daryl spooned her as they both drifted into a slumber, a faint smile cresting your lips as you gazed from the opposite side. It wasn't as big as that night as a kid, or when your daughter was born, but it held as much meaning. You were all okay.

You got your vampire, and he got you – and you both got your little girl.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[mxtxfanatic]

Jiang Yanli's Sacrifice of Love

Something that's bothered me for a while has actually been how Jiang Yanli's sacrifice at Nightless City is discussed. It was neither a spur of the moment decision nor something that she would have avoided had she "had more time to think." For one, the reason why Jiang Yanli is at Nightless City is to speak to Wei Wuxian. It's pretty clear that this is the reason, because when Wei Wuxian had gone to Koi Tower to retrieve Wen Ning and Wen Qing's ashes, he was discovered by Madam Jin outside of the palace where she and Jiang Yanli had been mourning over Jin Zixuan's coffin:

Madam Jin had good sight. She saw the features submerged in the darkness, and her face twisted at once. She yelled in a shrill voice, “Everyone! Come, everyone! Wei Ying—he’s here! He crept into Koi Tower!” Wei WuXian leaped down the roof. Suddenly, he heard a series of hastened footsteps. Somebody hurried out of the palace. He could only make a run for it.

—Chapt. 77: Nightfall, exr

Jiang Yanli hears that Wei Wuxian is in Koi Tower and immediately leaves her vigil over Jin Zixuan's coffin, but Wei Wuxian avoids her. Her only other option is to go to the Nightless City pledge banquet, because she would not get another chance. The cultivation world was planning on besieging the Burial Mounds the next day:

Jin GuangShan raised his hands, signaling for the people to be quiet and listen to him talk. When the cheers slowly died down, he continued, raising his voice, “Tonight, the ones whose ashes had been scattered were the two leaders of the Wen Sect’s remnants. And tomorrow! It will be the rest of the Wen-dogs and—the YiLing Patriarch, Wei Ying!”

—Chapt. 78: Nightfall, exr

So now we see that Jiang Yanli's presence at Nightless City wasn't an accident or plothole, and she wasn't there without the knowledge that what she would walk into would likely be bad. She simply did not care because she needed to see her didi, if only for the last time.

Jiang YanLi managed, “... A-Xian. Before... why did you run away so fast... I didn’t even get the chance to look at you, or say something to you...” ... And so, she didn’t know what else she could say to Wei Wei WuXian, under such circumstances. It was just that she felt like she had to see this brother of hers once more.

—Chapt. 78: Nightfall, exr

Now let's discuss the second part:

Jiang YanLi, “I’m... I’m here to tell you...” To tell him what? That it’s fine? That I don’t hate you? That everything is fine? That I don’t blame you for have killed Jin ZiXuan? It was impossible. But she couldn’t say anything that was the opposite either. And so, she didn’t know what else she could say to Wei Wei WuXian, under such circumstances.

—Chapt. 78: Nightfall, exr

I've seen this section analyzed in a way that makes it seem like Jiang Yanli does wholly blame Wei Wuxian for everything that has gone bad but simply has no will to speak that hatred into existence. That is clearly an overly simplistic and mean-spirited interpretation of Jiang Yanli's internal dilemma. Jiang Yanli's hesitance is not a reluctance to give validity to her hate but that she doesn't know how to directly face the contradictions in her relationship with the man she sees as her didi. When they were both children in Lotus Pier, the contradiction between she as a master and Wei Wuxian as a servant could be ignored because the strictest enforcer of them, Madam Yu, spent most of her time away from home. After the Jiang Clan massacre and Jiang Cheng assuming leadership, there was nobody who would override her stance on seeing Wei Wuxian as a true brother. When she had Jiang Cheng sneak her to Yiling to show off her wedding outfit to Wei Wuxian, she was making a conscious choice to act as if the dynamics between them have not been irreversibly changed despite Wei Wuxian's defection from the Jiang, his subsequent exile from the cultivation world, and her impending marriage into the main clan pushing for his persecution. She even invites Wei Wuxian to Koi Tower for Jin Ling's one-month celebration despite surely hearing about how terrible his reputation was at the time!

But the Qiongqi Path Ambush crushes her dreams of peaceful coexistence and pushes the contradictions to the forefront where they can no longer be ignored. Wei Wuxian is not just her didi. He is the feared Yiling Patriarch, loathed by all, and now the murderer of her beloved husband/father of her child. Her other brother and father-in-law are gathering cultivators to kill him, in turn. She is hurt and grieving, and this pain is for more than just the loss of her husband. This is the same dilemma that Jin Ling finds himself in at the end of the novel: he suddenly has to contend with the fact that his favorite uncle, Jin Guangyao, is the real reason why he was orphaned, and he must contend with that betrayal atop all of his memories of Jin Guangyao's acts of love and kindness towards him as well as the fact that the man is now dead. Does the love cover the hurt? No, but the hurt also doesn't erase the love nor convert it into hatred. Likewise, for Jiang Yanli to say otherwise to Wei Wuxian would be a disservice to both of them. Yet despite not having words prepared beforehand to discuss all of these conflicting feelings inside of her, Jiang Yanli still rushes out of the palace to catch a glimpse of Wei Wuxian, still finds her way to Nightless City, still calls him by his pet name and speaks gently to him despite having just been slashed in the back by one of his corpse soldiers.

And while she wasn't expecting it to be the last time they'd see each other because of her death, that doesn't make her sacrifice any less meaningful for the fact that she did not predict it prior to it happening. She—a notoriously frail woman who had just had her back cut open—gathered enough strength to push a grown man out of the way of an incoming attack that only she saw coming:

Shyly saying a few words to Madam Jin, [Jiang Yanli] walked to the edge of the watching platform and tossed out two flowers at them. This used up as much strength as she could muster. For one second, Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng were even worried that she’d fall off. Seeing that Jiang YanLi steadied herself, they finally relaxed.

—Chapt. 70: Departure, exr

Suddenly, Jiang YanLi’s eyes opened wide. Her hands conjured up an explosive current of strength from nowhere and pushed Wei WuXian hard! Wei WuXian was pushed onto the ground again by the force. The next time he looked up, he saw the gleaming blade of a sword pierce through her throat.

—Chapt. 78: Nightfall, exr

If that wasn't an act of love, I don't know what is.

[peterm4rker]

¿dónde está la biblioteca? || z.cl

twenty four. are you shitting me? (written)

🕸🕷✮⋆˙ wc. 1.4k w. curse words! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

you hoped whoever princess was had a shitty day.

it was nothing against her, really (yes it was). but mostly against the fact that the simple knowledge of her existence had ruined the last few days of your life.

after realising that there was no way that chenle had anyone but a girl named like that on his phone, you had spent the last two days dragging about in your apartment, bored out of your mind and a tiny bit sad.

you have grown accustomed to chenle’s presence in your life. his texts, his twitter interactions, the hours upon hours he spent inside of your head. so now that you had decided to take your time and distance from him, everything was oddly quiet. you spent the first two days simply moping around, watching straight seasons of new girl and eating away your feelings with cookie dough ice cream, which oddly enough, you had never liked that much until it began to remind you of chenle.

it was day three on the “forgetting about my feelings for chenle and going back to being best friends with him” agenda, and the outro to the last episode of new girl played on your computer screen. you stared at it with a blank face and teary eyes, feeling hollow once again as there was nothing to fixate on to make you feel better.

as you picked up your phone to call sunwoo and cry to him about everything but chenle (he vetoed his name for the next week), you found your own teary eyed reflection and it was nothing more than pathetic.

since when did you let yourself cry over boys and mope around for days on end?

absolutely not.

you turned off your phone and got out of bed, grabbing a towel and heading straight to the shower. music blared through the alexa on the counter as you let water wash the negativity away, allowing a smile onto your face. you picked a cute outfit and grabbed your bag, putting one airpod on before leaving your house and jumping into ludovica.

the drive to the coffee shop was pretty long, but it didn't bother you. that was what you needed, fresh air and some sun.

you parked your car and happily got out of it, making sure to greet the workers as you approached the counter and ordered your favourite drink and a pastry. once the order was placed you walked to a nearby table, pulling out your computer and your notebook, deciding to get some work done.

the music playing through your headphones drowned out any other thought that could have crossed your mind. the melody tingling your brain and the lyrics sinking into your skin as you tried your hardest to write your report on one of your biggest musical inspirations. 

right then and there, everything seemed to fall into place. the coffee was exactly as you liked it, the pastry was beautifully done and the words seemed to just flow out of you. 

you didn't need chenle. you didn't need anyone.

but of course, if being run over and stranded at an airport had taught you anything, was that these feelings normally didn't last for you. and still, you were a little surprised as you felt a tap on your shoulders, raising your head only to be met by none other than hong seunghan.

he smiled brightly at you, the corner of his eyes brimming with joy as he waved. you took your headphones off quickly, trying to match his smile and hide your surprise. “hey, seunghan!” you greeted happily.

“hey ynnie, what are you doing here? i don't think I’ve seen you here before” he says, but he has, because you used to go to that exact coffee shop whenever you thought he would be there. 

“just getting some work done, you?” you answered.

“I was supposed to meet maru but she couldn't make it” he shrugged, looking at the chair in front of you “is this seat taken?”

“oh, no, go ahead” you nudged towards the chair, allowing him to sit with you. 

a few months ago, hell, even weeks, you would've been elated to be sitting with seunghan out of all people. but as you saw him sit and give you that astonishing smile of his, there was nothing.

because it wasn't his smile that made your stomach erupt into butterflies anymore.

★🎧⋆｡ °⋆

conversation easily flowed between you, making you set your work aside completely to focus your attention on him.

“can i tell you something a little embarrassing? i'm only comfortable saying this now because i’m madly in love with my girlfriend” he asked as he calmed down from a fit of laughter you had very proudly caused.

“yeah, of course” you smiled reassuringly, suddenly curious at what his next words would be.

“i used to have a huge crush on you but i was too scared to say anything” he admitted bashfully. your jaw fell open for a couple seconds, before erupting into laughter and hiding your face in your hands “hey! don't laugh at me!” he exclaimed with a soft laugh.

“i'm not laughing at you! its just” you cut yourself off and took your hands away from your face, looking at him once again “i had a massive crush on you for about two years” 

“you're shitting me right now” he deadpanned, and you shook your head as a chuckle escaped your lips. “i was scared for nothing!?” 

“yup, i would've given you everything i've ever owned if i knew” you chuckled.

“thats crazy… When did you stop liking me?” he asked curiously, and you pursed your lips a bit awkwardly.

“maybe around a month ago?” you said, doubt making your voice high pitched. his jaw fell open once again.

“that little ago?” you nodded, sheepish smile still on your lips “then… i'm guessing chenle happened?”

you nodded once again.

“well then, I'm happy it worked out for the both of us” he chuckled as he sipped his drink again.

“i wouldn't say it has worked out for me” you commented, stirring the liquid of your second cup of coffee of the day.

“how so?” he asked, curious once again. who would’ve thought he liked chisme so much?

“well, chenle has no idea i like him and also has a girl, so” you pursed your lips once again.

“huh? chenle doesnt have a girl” seunghan replied, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“he doesn't?” your eyebrows moved to match his, his confusion contagious.

“nah, he is pretty bitchless” the way he said it made you laugh, rolling your eyes.

“then who is princess?” you asked. you didn't know why you were having this conversation with seunghan out of all people, but if it was giving you good information then it was totally worth it.

“princess?” he thought about it for a second, his furrowed eyebrows falling into a deadpan as he seemed to remember “thats literally jaemin”

“wait, what?” you asked, even more confused than before.

“that's how he has him saved, with a little bow, right?” right.

you had never felt so stupid in your life.

you just had spent two days moping around your room for nothing.

you had spent two days ignoring chenle for nothing.

“i might end it all” you groaned and let your head fall into the crook of your arms, resting on top of the table. seunghan let out a loud laugh.

“no way you thought he had a girlfriend” he laughed “its so obvious that he's–” he cut himself off suddenly, making you look up at him

“hes what?”

“nothing, forget it” he dismissed it. he wasn't going to rat out his boy like that. “i can help you”

“help me with what?” you sat up once again, feeling defeated by your own dumbness.

“chenle, i know him very well, and i think i can help you confess” he said, decided smile adorning his pretty face.

“you really think so?” you asked, a tiny bit of doubt in your voice.

“of course, i'll need some help but i definitely can” he nodded, convincingly.

“then let's do it.”

previous ★ masterlist ★ next

★ blue's corner ;; SEUNGHAN IS BACK I REPEAT MY MAN IS BACK !!!!!! sooo incredibly grateful that i chose him as the crush because i can post this chapter and introduce their beautiful friendship the day after he was announced back !!!! ★ tag list ;; @yutarot @chenlesfavorite @fullsunbabe @taroddori @morkiee @jovialdelusionbouquet @winwintea @flaminghotyourmom @haechskiss @xuimhao @dudekiss3r @neozon3nha ★ back to the main masterlist ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any content !!

© peterm4rker, 2024

[diejager]

I am really relived ;w;

I just really love your headcanon about König and wondered...

Would you maybe do Platonic Yandere! König, Simon Riley and Captain Price with Childhood friend! Y/n? (You can choose any of them)

I CHOOSE- all of 'em.

Pairing : König x reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader, John Price x reader

Cw: dark, platonic yandere, threats, canon violence, murder.

Wc: 1.2k

König

Not much was known about König outside of his moniker and the basic knowledge about his specialty and kill count. People who are powerful enough to find his file will only know how he failed to qualify for a recon sniper and joined KorTac after being a part of KSK (the Kommando Spezialkräfte - the Special Forces Command).

His personal life, however, was something he guarded with his life, a secret he would bring to the grave. His civilian life was almost nonexistent, his file didn't even have his name, and the military simply knew him as König; King, in german - a king among kings.

He cherished few things in life, his life, and (Name), the person he grew up knowing and shared his pain with. You were his little secret within the world, something - someone - he would protect fiercely, even at the cost of his blood. You stood up for him when you were younger, you fought back against his bullies even when they towered over you; you'd worry about him and ease his anxiety when he felt panicked.

When he'd heard you joined the KSK, wanting to follow in his footsteps a year after him, his heart almost gave out, he wanted you safe and far from the front lines of war and battles. You were stubborn, pleasing your case with such ardor that he let you with the promise of staying by his side. Unlike him, you made it into the 5th platoon, a marksman of value after months of patience and practice, and when he left the KSK, he took you with him.

A battering ram, he was, fierce and dangerous when provoked, wherever you went, he goes; looming over your form like a shadow, scaring off people and some members of KorTac with the cold gleam in his steel eyes. His hands would linger protectively on you, your shoulder, arm, or back, anywhere that would deter people from approaching you; from wanting to hurt you.

Since you joined KorTac as their sniper, you'd be far from him, being a breacher and bettering ram had him on the line of fire often, the first on sight and the first to storm in. He was far from you, and he *hated* that, and he still does. If he could, König would lock you up where no one would know your secret and your existence, he didn't want harm to befall you.

König won't stop at anything to keep you safe, you were weaker than him, shorter than his 6'10, and fragile; to him, you were his childhood friend, his everything. He would do the same as you did to him when you were young, he would protect you.

Ghost

He was Ghost, named for being a ghost to the world, he used to be Simon Riley, someone who was alive, someone who existed, someone who had people waiting for him at home. Then he lost his whole world, his brother, step-sister, and noise died, killed by the people who tried beat him, tortured him, raped him, and attempted to kill him by burying him with the traitorous Major Vernon.

After leaving his life as Simon Riley, the blonde and brown-eyed man people knew, he became Ghost, a dead man walking - a zombie. He had lost everything he cared for, but when he learned that you survived, deployed elsewhere when the massacre of the Riley family happened.

It made his previous protectiveness spiral into an obsession, wanting to know where you were, what you were doing, where you were deployed, which base you were stationed at; everything and anything about you. When Price came with Task force 141, luck seemed on his side, he met you at the tarmac, waiting for him.

"Ghost, (n/n), but when it's just us, Simon is fine."

He was cold and brooding around others, less when you were beside him, but he still held the facade of a cold-hearted and dead Lieutenant Ghost. However, in your shared barracks, he would drop the mask he wears and Simon would come back, the sad, heartbroken man that survived and cared for nothing but you, the last of his previous life: his everything.

Both being snipers and infiltration specialists, he often found himself working closely with you, standing in front or beside you with a protective awareness. Although you were both soldiers - a Lieutenant and a Sergeant - and faced death many times, he wanted to keep you from harm, hold you, and put you somewhere safe.

He dreads the thought of finding you dead or receiving a call about your untimely death: (Name) K.I.A. He's had nightmares about your death, the risks of letting you continue working with the Task Force and simply knowing him, he wakes to you holding him, shushing and whispering his night terrors away - like you always did.

You helped him through his younger years, a place of comfort to him in his abusive household, now he'd do his best to keep you alive and by his side. Even though he can't shake the thought of you going M.I.A. or K.I.A., not having you by his side was irksome, a thought he pushed away. He wanted you with him, so he'd have to work harder, a few slips of his trigger finger in a freak accident, and the trip of his enemies' foot, and he'll have you safe and sound.

Price

He grew up in a traditional, conservative family, so every neighbor knew their neighbors, your family included. Although you were a few years younger than him - being six when he was ten - you quickly became best friends, glued by the hips wherever you went. He had to protect you, you were his adorable childhood best friend whom he loved so much.

When he joined the army, he remembered soothing your cries and your dazed pleas and promises: "Wait for me, John." He did, waiting impatiently for you to join the British army between letters and calls.

He had made enemies while on duty, especially with the formation of 141, it put a bigger target on his head, and whoever knew him; it was yours, especially, that worried him the most, even after having Laswell find and invite you.

He was a captain, and you, a lieutenant - first lieutenant, one rank over Ghost - by 2019. Having you in his Task Force made the weight of his worry lighter; having you on his team during deployment - always - made things easier for him; just having you in his presence made him more relieved. He dreaded and feared losing you to missions, to stray bullets, to traitors, or to the enemies he'd gained over the years.

The constant fear had him command you by his side, always with him in missions (behind him when you infiltrated a base, or near him in shootouts), in his office (saying that he worked better with you helping or sitting on the couch in his office) or bunking with him (he wanted you to sleep in the same barracks as him, it would be easier to protect you come the time of a surprise attack).

He knew you were able to defend yourself, to survive on your own as he's seen many times - you were second in command too - but he still worries, hoarding you to himself as you did as kids, by the hips.

He's a captain that doesn't fear getting his hands dirty if it meant keeping the world clean, the same would be said about keeping you alive and unharmed. He wasn't shy to hurt people or threaten them, he has connections and power, and he - John Price - knows what he's doing.

[banquetwriter]

୨୧ Le hannon ୨୧

pairing: Legolas Greenleaf ♡︎ fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ readers hair is described as dull and shaggy but mentions nothing of color, cut, or texture so it can apply to anyone. legolas is described as being inhumanly tall and is taller than reader, but reader isn’t necessarily short, if you squint reader is implied to be ok the chubbier side. sex and love making, OOC legolas bc this is my first time writing him

summary: ʚ body worship ɞ

Words: 2703

A/N: AHHH ME WRITING OH MY ??? i’m getting outta depression yalllllll

It was easy to feel inferior next to the prince of Mirkwood. It was easy to feel less than next to any elf. They held themselves highly, unable to simply die of any mortal ailments. Their flowing long hair whipped around as they jumped from tree to tree with such an agile nature it seemed as if the rules of gravity that burdened so heavily on your human frame did not apply to these extraordinary creatures.

They are also such strong scholars, their views and sense of other cultures and worlds seem lightyears ahead of any knowledge you could hope to possess. And the elves of Mirkwood do surely know it. How they turn their nose up to you at any given chance, the snide remarks.

You were only human. You had jagged and dull hair. Your body ached with germs and grew tired of simply existing. The mind you possessed was not so easily tuned. You weren't as quick on your feet, often taking longer for each task. Your skin was damaged, it was not soft or beautiful, it was raw.

It felt embarrassing to be seen next to such beauty. Although Legolas never embarrassed you once through his words. In fact, he had never commented on your physical appearance since the day your path intertwined with his.

He would ask about your skills in healing animals and other creatures, your traditions, and your livelihood. On your lighter days, you appreciated not having any comments to make your mind spiral out of control.

On other days you wanted nothing more than for the tall and pale elf to get down on his knees and worship you. To have his manicured hands grace every part of your skin and heal you. Not with medicine or words but with touch. His finger gingerly fucking you until you don't have any thoughts to overthink.

You sat in your guest room of the palace. You suppose you were sitting better than some elves being so close to the king and the prince. Your company needs a break from traveling, the prince suggested his home as the perfect one.

The aforementioned prince was currently taking a stroll down memory lane in the evening hours as the rest of his crew was sleeping (or trying to in your case) his Elven body did not need to sleep so he walked. He was reliving old memories, some good, some bad. He was also thinking of you, so maybe that is why as he strolled around he found his feet bringing himself to your room.

Legoland found it odd at first that he drew towards you. You were not like most women he knew, you were loud and unafraid. Drinking just as much as the men, not worrying about yourself as much as you worried about your friends and loved ones. You were a sunshine that warmed his heart like the first heat of summer.

By gods you were beautiful. Inside and out. A soul so worthy of love Legolas found himself dreaming of you night after night. The curve of your legs, the roundness of your tummy. It was a miracle to be blessed with you.

He surely couldn't wake you if you were letting sleep pass through you. Maybe he should just check to make sure you were settling in alright. Mhm yes, this is what being a good host would do. He held his slender fingers up to your door, his golden rings glistening in the moonlight and candle-lit hallways.

He knocked with his knuckles a few times against your door before bringing his hands down and massaging them, attempting to calm his nerves. “W-who is it?” you asked clearly startled.

Your eyes bored into the door in front of you as your heartbeat began to beat so violently against your rib cage it was hard to hear or see anymore. “It's me, your favorite prince.” you hear the familiar voice jest.

The words don't come out quite as smoothly as he wanted. You didn't seem to notice his anxiety. “I'm only in my dressing robes, not proper clothes,” you shouted back. It felt silly, all the time you had spent with Legolas, all the wounds he saw on your body, to now be so proper with him.

Then again it probably didn't feel that long to the elven prince. Maybe you were just a blip in his long years. “When has that ever bothered me?” he shouted from outside your door once again assuming this was an invitation in.

You gasped slightly as he walked around the door and his eyes fell on you. Poor Legoland now understood what you had meant. These weren't just any dressing robes provided by the elves. These were man-made dressing robes. Almost entirely sheer.

He has never seen in you something so overtly feminine… not that he minded either way. Gender was almost entirely irrelevant to him. Your face was raw. You had been crying. His giddy face fell with the sight of your fallen state.

Ignoring your basically exposed body. He joined your side, “Why are you crying?” he asks as his weight pushes the bed down beside you. Your mind races with awful thoughts.

All of them seem to get a little better as Legolas’s hand and arm reach around your shoulders. Your emotions drain any chance of resisting his affections. Your head falls on his slender shoulder. “I know that I as a human will never compare to the beauty of an elf,” you whisper, your lips dry and raw from wiping your tears.

“I don't think that to be true-” Legolas' comment doesn't reach your ears as you continue. “But even amongst humans, I'm nothing special. Am I so undeserving of love?” you ask as your tears are unable to drip anymore.

“How dare you speak so unsavory of my dear companion,” he says in a joking manner. It doesn’t help. Clearly, this wasn't going how he wanted to do this. “I shouldn't jest, tell me, what bothers your heart,” he asks, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb.

You roll your eyes in response, shying away from his touch. “I want to lie in bed with you, Legolas,” you confess. Now he really knew not to joke after hearing such words. He felt a jump in his lower belly, a feeling he was more than familiar with.

“I want your hands to cherish every part of my body, your beautiful fingers exploring every part of my figure. My body burns for you, and I am unworthy of such fantasies.” your words way heavy in the room.

Tension thick as your eyes avoid his gaze. Your eyes shifted looking at the ground as he watched you like a hawk. His pants get tighter as he learns how badly you need him.

It was in moments like this that showed how young Legolas truly is. His body turned into a limp servant for your every desire. It was time to do what he had been dreaming of doing to you since he laid his eyes on you.

His hands found the sides of your face as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. His elven tongue makes quick work of showing you just how completely and utterly enamored with you. When hands found his hair deepening the kiss the elven prince moaned into your mouth.

He pressed his hips into you as you slowly lay down. “Your body has never left my mind. Every curve and scar and stretch mark makes my elven blood turn to the hottest fire…” he confessed. His diligent fingers slowly remove your sheer dress. Your bare body is being revealed.

You waited self-consciously as the prince eyed your body down properly with no film to hide you. His face morphed into a pink that went from pointed ear to pointed ear.

“You are a light in this dark world. I have always found myself drawn to you as if you are the arrow to my heart's bow," he whispered to you as he pulled away from your eyes to move all the way down to your thighs.

His soft mouth sucked and bit on every available place of skin available to him. You moaned lying back. “Never speak so lowly of yourself again or I can assure you I will have some choice words to share with you dear,” he said stern but soft as his teeth grazed your exposed body.

“Legolas please I need you,” you whispered. His pleasant teasing was well… Pleasant but it left you a desiring ache in between your legs.

This wasn't your first encounter with something of this nature. Far from it but you had a sneaking suspicion this was going to be different. “As you wish,” he smirked deliciously, standing up.

He gingerly rid himself of his clothes making sure to show off his figure to you. He didn't need to. He was beyond beautiful. Lean muscles decorate his chest and arms. The low glow from the candles behind him illuminates his blonde hair. Your eyes trail below his skinny waist.

Where he was decidedly less skinny. You do not know the average size of an elf but by human standards, your dear prince far exceeded even a dream of what he would look like.

He must have seen your eyes widen ever so slightly, as he smirked again. “You seem nervous, Meleth Nín,” he says, his voice oozing confidence. Not in the slightest concerned. “You are very beautiful, my prince. Very beautiful indeed,” you whispered the last part, eyes dropping to his hard member.

In that sacred space, the once cold room now feeling warm, the blonde elf knelt before you, not as a prince, or as an elf but as a devoted friend and possible lover. "Let me honor you, not just with words, but with every fiber of my being. Estelio nin,” he said getting closer and closer to your exposed and dripping cunt.

“Legolas,” you whined, narrowing your eyes. He seemed to humor you, his long tongue taking a stripe up your cunt. Your eyes flutter shut as you arch your back. You feel him hum against you as he continues to ravish your cunt slowly making sure no part is left untouched.

His slender fingers grip into the plush fat of your thighs. His cold rings add a welcoming sensation. “Oh gods,” you whispered, feeling your finish slowly approach as he made out with your sex. Legolas didn't say anything, simply humming against you again making you tingle all over.

Suddenly his pale hand went from digging into your thigh flesh to using his manicured thumb to rub gently but quick circles on your clit which only pushed that so-desired feeling further. “Can I please? I need it please, my prince.” you gasped out the pleasurable feeling flooding your veins.

“Have your release, use my tongue to guide your pleasure.” he nearly whispers against you. Oh and use him you did. It was a short 30 seconds later as you felt his tongue hit just the right spot, your legs shook before your pleasure overwhelmed your senses and you barely recognized Legolas lapping up your juices.

Your eyes flutter open to see Legolas crawling on top of you, his hard leaking member brushing against your stomach. The sight itself was enough to have you wanting even more. Instead, your prince’s right hand found its way to your jaw.

You tasted your own self and his tongue as he nearly replicated what he was doing moments ago with you only higher up this time. “Are you ready to feel how beautiful I see you are? How your body overtakes my Elvish mind?” he asked, pulling away from your mouth and whispering down into your ear.

You don't reply so shocked at every sensation you feel. “I know you're nervous but there is no need to be,” he purred. “My tongue has gotten you ready enough Meleth Nín, it should only hurt a moment. Are you ready?” he asked, dragging his hand up your body, cherishing it like it was a beautiful statue.

You nodded, keeping your eyes trained on him. “Words my human love.” he reminded you, his finger brushing your cheek. “Yes I'm ready,” you whisper.

In the next few moments, you can only remember the feeling of his length stretching you out. He was right it hurt for a second but as you took deep breaths and relaxed it started to feel less painful and more full. A good feeling, his hand locked with yours, his forearm just above your head.

He pushes in and out so gently. He is talking to you or maybe just to himself but you can't quite hear him over the feeling of your bodily organs rearranging. Your wanton moans fill the room.

“Le annon veleth nín,” he whispers to you, you aren't sure what it means but it must mean something to him as Legolas has removed himself from your lips as he is now bucking into your hips with his forehead resting on yours.

You feel the sensation burning through you again, and your Elvish love must have to for he was whispering rapidly in Elvish against your skin. “Le hannon… Le hannon.” he was saying. You couldn't hold on anymore, your hands found the back of his neck as your walls fluttered around him.

The cause and effect of your body accepting his love caused his release as well. He curses as you feel his seed spurt onto your walls. It doesn't take long for his rapid breaths to catch up to him as he sits up from being on top of you.

He pulls out as slowly as he can to not hurt you any. His attempt mostly fails as you whine from the loss of feeling. “I know I know I'm here for you, right here. Let's go take a bath, my beautiful ok?” he asks, pinching your side.

You giggle squirming away from him with a smile. You were beyond exhausted. Legolas disappears for a few minutes before returning, picking you up with zero hesitation. His elven strength almost quiets any insecurities you may have.

He places you in a wooden bathtub filled with warm water and herbal remedies for all your aches and pains. Legolas slips in behind you, at first he just slowly kisses your neck letting you relax before taking some soaps and washing your body and hair thoroughly.

Each body part he scrubs he made sure to tell you just how beautiful you were. It helped of course. But healing scars like this aren’t going to take just one magical night with an elf prince, no matter how badly you wanted that to be true.

After you were body washed and rinsed Legolas helped you and your shaky legs into a very nice robe. He sat you down on a chair in the ginormous bathroom. “Wait here I will return in a moment,” he said gently.

And wait you did before he returned clothed. He helped dry you and applied the softest moisturizer ever to your skin. You could perhaps get used to this. Before leading you to the bed which he has changed the sheets and blanket of.

An outfit similar to his was placed on the bed in your size. He helped you get dressed again, sliding his hand up and down your body. “You have never been and never will be less than anything but desirable. You must understand that if we are to begin courting,” he told you to lift your chin with his hand.

You look down shyly at his words. “Why didn't you tell me this before? Why am I hearing of your affections just now?” you ask sitting on the bed. “A beautiful woman doesn't need to be told that she's beautiful. For you are so much more than your body, you have an excellent mind as well. That's what I chose to speak about. Out of respect for you.” he said, joining your side.

It made more sense now than it ever had. Still, it was going to take a while for these unwanted feelings to deplete.

[azullumi]

“boyfriend messages” ; diluc & kaveh

info — random conversations between you two that are part of your daily life; alternatively, how does he communicate through text messages?

characters — diluc and kaveh (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, established relationship, modern au ; headcanons

words — 920

note — need me a gossip buddy who’ll film fights for me, also, ignore the timestamps and status bar !! i still have another fic coming up but i need to be focused while writing it (^^)/

;; 🍷

he’s often the first one to greet you in the morning, the first one to give you a call before you start your day, always the one to accompany you.

calls. call. calls. if it’s not so obvious already, this man prefers calling more than texting—prefers hearing your voice than reading words on a digital screen and having to imagine what you would sound like saying them. he always make sure that he calls you at least once each day, even if one of you has to hang up after a few minutes or if you two would only do their own thing and not talk to each other that much. in line of that, falling asleep during the call is something that isn’t uncommon between you and him.

aside from other close friends and acquaintances, you’re the only one in his contacts and the only one he always talk to—his call history is just you accompanied with a few others and your name is always on top of his messages. he has your profile saved with a sweet endearment as its name and a photo that he took of you, in which its existence you don’t know of.

a random thing about him is that he doesn’t use emojis at all, and prefers not using them. it’s not like he doesn’t understand the use of it, it’s just that he chooses not to. on that note, he doesn’t go ‘AHAHAHAHA’ in text whenever he finds something funny—he doesn’t go for the lowercase one either—he simply just tells you: “that’s funny.”

he’s not afraid to tell you that he misses you, that he wants to see you, and just one word from you, one message, a single statement, he’ll be right there at your doorstep to satisfy his yearning and yours also. even if he’s from the other side of the world, he’ll make his way to you as long as you also feel the same.

one thing that he often does for you is drop off gifts for you or have it delivered to your name without your knowledge and thus, he always end up surprising you—sending him a message as soon as you receive it with a bunch of question marks or anything. his gifts are often random, a variety, it could be food, could be books, jewelry, something that has been in your wishlist or cart for so long but couldn’t get, and many more. his reason? he just wants to. it’s not an exaggeration to say that your home isn’t filled with items that you got from him.

have i mentioned that he just loves showing off his affection to you in many ways that he can? he just loves you, that’s all the reason needed for everything.

;; 🌻

gossip buddy and lover boy. gossip is always found in your message history with him, it’s that one topic that has you two talking for hours, often diverting to another one before going back to it at just a mention of a word—“speaking of apples, did you know ‘toilet’ got into trouble because he threw one at the window? also, i heard that he cheated on his girlfriend.”

the most ridiculous code names are being used as a substitute for someone’s name and if someone were to ever hear you or see the chats, they would end up being confused on why are you talking about a water bottle and a shower head having a fight in a bar.

he is exceptionally good at expressing himself through texting despite the many struggles of others when doing so—he uses emojis, gifs, emoticons, images, and everything, it’s not shocking that he uses some combinations even and it’s not also surprising that you’ll get used to his texting language and even adapt to it. although, he often shortens his words whenever he’s in a rush: ‘sry hve 2 go, ppl r clling m’ is translated to, ‘sorry i have to go, people are calling me’ and there’s a mwa (a kiss in the form of words) at the end.

the type to greet you as soon as the clock strikes twelve when it’s your birthday, the type to send the randomest message at the most random time on the morning, and the type that will tell you in advance if he wouldn’t be able to message you for some time as he’s occupied with some things—mainly, his plates—which gets you worried because when he’s at that state, he will most likely forget to take care of himself.

that leads you to having to check up on him from time to time, asking if he had eaten anything and telling him to take a break. he appreciates it really, despite the scoldings he gets from you when you learn of the fact that he had neglected himself, it shows that you care.

he sends photos of himself, a selfie or a mirror photo showing off his outfit before he goes out. he hasn’t said it but he loves it whenever you rain him with compliments, it has him grinning like an idiot on his phone (mans kicks his feet and rolls around the bed).

he just loves talking to you, whether it’s through the mere act of messaging and calling each other or doing it in real-time, gossiping and discussing about rumors that would entertain you both for boths or simply just him admiring you with his eyes as he listened to you blabber about the most randomest things.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.