#soul swear a bit more than heart but still not too much & if anything does it more as a goof or to overly express things

[sneeb-canons]

mind swears more than anyone else. soul comes close in competition, but they do it within reason, while mind swears so much, so inconveniently, that "fuck" doesn't even sound like a real word anymore

Headcanon #259

[seresinhangmanjake]

Different is Better

Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Javi invites your ex back with Storm Par amidst the flirtation between you and Tyler. 

Notes/Warnings: This was a combination of requests, so it's not exactly what everyone asked for, but I got it as close as I could, sp hopefully it satisfies in some ways. Allusion to smut. Cursing probably. Scott sucks (sorry to the Scott lovers), Javi sucks a little too (sorry to the Javi lovers).

Words: 2850

Tyler Owens Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

The second the Storm Par team finishes settling on the schedule for tomorrow, you remove yourself from the rest of the chasers in the parking lot, Wranglers included, and press your back into the outer wall of the motel. Perfectly out of sight and free to feel how you want without judgment.

You can’t breathe around him. You can’t think properly. And damn him for fucking loving it. Damn the smirk that slices into your skin. Damn fucking Javi for requesting his participation on the team after swearing up and down that he wouldn’t. Damn him for not warning you, forcing you to spend the last half-hour since his arrival in wild discomfort.

It had been so good without him. The best chasing you’d done in years. Relaxing, free from tension despite the chaos of rolling into the heart of unpredictable weather. In his absence, you chased with excitement; you chased with that tingly zingy feeling in your gut; you chased with a pounding heart, with hands shaky not from nerves but from raw, untainted energy shooting throughout your entire body. 

The last two months of chasing renewed your love of the craft and proved more than anything that Scott has been—and still is—a soul-sucking, life-draining leech….to you, anyway. 

But everyone already loves him, just short of instantly obsessed with him, especially the females of the group who neglect that ‘award-winning’ personality he’s managed to display in only thirty-two minutes. Shamefully, it almost makes you wish the team Javi assembled had fewer young college girls and a heck of a lot more mature, determined women. They would easily see past his looks and recognize that his intelligence does not surpass that of anyone else on the team. He is not some rare, fascinating, genius savior who has come to solve all of the data-collecting problems the team’s been having; he’s just an extra helping hand that, frankly, you firmly believe you don’t need. 

But no…as has been the case each time you’ve worked together since you ended your little college fling—or whatever the fuck it was—he gets to be Mr. Perfect, and you’re stuck as the angsty bitch who whines over him being here. 

“So…that’s the guy, huh?” Tyler asks as he rounds the corner and joins you under the cover of near-darkness. 

He practically shines under the damaged streetlamp’s thin, flickering light. You’re not looking at him, but you don’t have to be to see that much clearly. He glows in your peripherals, and with another step closer to you, your heartbeat stumbles within your ribcage. 

Tyler is the one thing you credit for reviving you. What started as a less-than-friendly rivalry changed when you accepted a challenge to chase with his crew one day, and though Javi was displeased, you were too curious about Tyler’s methods to turn him down. 

With one ride in his truck, the spark you thought had long died reignited. Now you have a respect for Tyler that the rest of your team does not. Respect…and a bit more. 

Though you would never abandon your team, you became increasingly hooked on the idea of chasing with Tyler again, and it was so stupidly obvious. And with that obviousness, an unspoken essence of sorts developed between you. A forbidden attraction you’re both aware of but have yet to fully act on, though not for lack of trying.

You take turns almost breaking that final barrier—heavy breathing, noses nearly brushing, lips a hairs-width away from connecting, but something always gets in the way: his team, yours, the weather. But not this time. Cock-block of the day? Scott Miller. 

Tyler’s eyes stay on your cheek as he stuffs his hands into his front jean’s pockets. “I didn’t know that was your type.”

When you look at Tyler, your brows knit at the disappointment on his face. He offers a smile, but it’s far less convincing than what he is capable of, like he didn’t even bother trying to give you one of his good ones. And you’ve seen a good smile from Tyler Owens. It can knock anyone off their feet. 

“It isn’t,” you tell him as you turn your attention back to the miles of grass in front of you. At night, under such little light, the eye gets tricked and the blades blend into a vast span of blackness, like a giant hole in the ground just a few feet away. One you might consider jumping into it if you could. 

“I mean, it was,” you continue, “but not anymore.”

He nods. “You have to work close with him?” he asks, though he already knows the answer.

“Unfortunately.”

Tyler blows out a breath. His hand runs through his hair before his head falls back against the brick wall of the motel, eyes closed and chin tilted toward the night sky. 

“Fuck,” he mutters. 

“Yea.”

Cicadas fill the following silence. Lightning bugs sprinkle throughout the space around you, thriving in the intense humidity that adds a thin sheen to your skin. You can see him thinking. Questioning. His fingers tap against his clothed thigh and your stomach clenches with dread. The last thing you want—the thing that would crush you—is Tyler sizing up whether or not you are worth the trouble of an ex even cockier than he is and more arrogant than you once believed him to be. One thing Tyler and Scott have in common: the adoring attention from young women. You’ve heard the stories from Lilly and Boone, and at any point, Tyler could tip his hat in adieu and return to his many fans to seek the encounters you’ve been hoping to share with him.  

Tyler turns his head to you. “You still like him? At all?”

“No,” you answer, trying not to be offended by the question he has a right to ask. To you, it’s absurd, insulting. To him, it’s covering his bases and understanding what, if anything, he is getting in between by pursuing you, or considering pursuing you. “The way he approaches relationships mimics the way he approaches chasing,” you continue. “Controlling, nit-picky, demanding. I couldn't stand it.” He’s nothing like you, you want to say, but for some reason, don’t.

Your heart’s discomfort eases with the slow spread of a smile across his face. You step toward him. “Look, Tyler, I know we haven’t really talked about us, but I–”

“There you are. I was starting to think I ran you off.”

The intruding voice snatches your attention and Tyler immediately pushes off the wall, positioning himself closer to your side. “I'm not sure you're threatening enough for that,” he says. 

Scott smirks, one eyebrow arching. “And you are?”

“Tyler,” he says, reaching out his hand in a play-nice gesture. “Owens.”

Realization dawns on Scott. “Oh, of course,” he replies, a mocking grin forming as he accepts the handshake. When he takes his hand back, he crosses his arms and cocks his head to the side. “Your reputation precedes you. How many followers have you managed to stack up by playing around for entertainment?”

“Subscribers,” Tyler corrects. “A mil.”

“Must be validating after failing to make it professionally.”

Your gut twists, fists almost clenching, but you restrain yourself from showing his effect on you. “That’s not why he does what he does,” you scold your ex sternly. Tyler’s head whips to you. You can just barely detect the gentle smile on his face. 

Scott hums, nonchalantly advancing closer to hover over you. His eyes penetrate like lasers into yours. “You know, you should really think before you fraternize. You wouldn’t want to make us look bad,” he says, running a knuckle down your cheek. You flinch away from his touch and he grins. “That’s all,” he says. “Good night, you two” And then he turns on his heel and returns from where he came. 

“Charming,” Tyler sarcastically snips. “I see the appeal.”

—

He fucking left you behind. 

You were trying to finish up his job after he failed to properly secure Javi’s tech, but as you were doing so, the tornado’s size grew and its speed picked up and it was headed right for you. Scott screamed at you, panicked in a way you’ve never heard before, but when you weren’t quick enough for his liking, he slammed your door and drove off, leaving you to looming disaster. 

If not for Tyler, you’d be dead. He spotted you in his crew’s attempt to flee, and though it was an insane risk, he came for you, leaping out of his truck and grabbing you as he yelled for Boone to take the wheel. 

He practically threw you into the back seat before crawling in after you and wrapping your shivering body in his arms.

“Tyler, man, I don’t know if we’re gonna be able to outrun it!” Boone called back, eyes darting between the blurry road in front of him and the rearview mirror. 

“Then drill us into the fucking ground!”

And that’s where you stayed, huddled together, your face in his neck as the storm tried to tear you apart. 

—

Are you out of your fucking mind!” Tyler shouts, stomping through the parking lot of the motel refuge. 

To your relief, the small, aged structure was out of the tornado's path, if just barely, and in the aftermath, the owner offered free rooms to those in need. Except for Boone, who holds you steady as Tyler storms off, the Wranglers pass out whatever shirts and food they have available, providing what comfort they can.

Javi inserts himself between Tyler and Scott, his hands up to keep Tyler back. “Woah, woah, calm down.”

“He could’ve fucking killed her!”

Javi’s concerned brow settles from shock. “W-What?” he asks. “What are you talking about?”

Tyler’s as vicious as a lion, his teeth bared, claws out as he tries to side-step Javi to get to Scott, who has backed up a step. “He left her out there!”

You can see the Adam’s apple bob in your ex’s throat. His composure is on edge. He’s never been called out before, not even by you. “She was being stupid.”

“She was doing your job!”

Scott scoffs as Javi blinks, trying to adjust to the rapid-fire information being thrown at him. He’s never been good at an onslaught of facts, needing that adjustment period for things to properly sink in. He’s careful that way. It’s his methodical mind. He takes his time with his planning, and that extends past his inventions. “Look, everyone’s safe. Everyone’s tired. Let’s just get some rest and we can deal with this tomorrow.”

“You’re letting him stay? After what he did?”

“Right now, no one has anywhere to go,” Javi explains, and though true, it doesn’t mean Scott has to remain here now that the threat is gone. Javi’s eyes dart past Tyler’s shoulder to your shaken form. He sighs an exhale that deflates his entire chest, his eyes close, and he shakes his head. He brought this on. He knows it. Scott was a mistake, and while it wasn’t Javi who put you in danger, you don’t mind him absorbing some of the guilt of what happened. “Just…take care of her.”

Tyler huffs and says, “That’s more than you people do,” before turning around and coming for you. Boone passes you off with a nod. Tyler’s arm goes around your body, his hand rubbing up and down your bicep. You wonder where he stored the rage so quickly, but you appreciate that he didn’t set any of it aside for you. After all, you’re the reason he almost died. You’re the reason his friend almost died. Just because it was not a potential consequence of your choices, the stress of near death can keep anyone on edge. But not Tyler, apparently. He has other priorities.

“Come on,” Tyler says. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” And he guides you to your room, the very same one you’ve been tempted to invite him to since your first chase together. You didn’t imagine this was how he would come to join you.

—

Tyler’s jaw slackens when you exit the bathroom in a small towel that barely covers your body, and he quickly rises from where he is sitting at the end of your mattress, wiping his palms on his jeans as if to remove the moisture collected there. His eyes go wide, but they can’t seem to meet yours, his green orbs trailing up and down your body. 

“They’re a bit short,” you tell him.

“Yea, I, uh,” His hand runs over his hair down to his neck. “I know,” he says, instantly conjuring the image of a bare Tyler, water droplets covering his skin, a measly towel wrapped around his waist held together by one hand; a hand that, if removed, would cause the towel to drop to the ratty carpeting. “Do you, um…you need anything? I can try to get you–”

“No,” you stop him. “I’m alright.” A beat passes, and then he nods and blows out a breath. “Thank you, for saving me. You didn’t have to risk yourself like that.”

His eyes find yours then. “You can’t possibly think that I wouldn’t.”

“I know you’re kinder than most. Braver than most. But you’re not stupid, and saving me was a bit–”

“Don’t say that. I’d do it again,” he says. When he steps toward you, the towel suddenly feels much smaller. You feel exposed under his gaze, but to your surprise, not embarrassed. Scott had a way of making you feel less than in what seemed like a thousand different ways, but not Tyler. His eyes marvel. “And again.”

You take a deep breath, releasing it slowly out your nose. 

“Are you still shaken up?” Tyler asks you. 

You shake your head. “Not really.”

He stops directly in front of you. “Can I finally kiss you then?”

Your lips part. The towel falls, not necessarily with intention, but you can’t hold the thing up and wrap your arms around his neck at the same time. And, right now, one is more important than the other. 

Tyler tastes like the cola from your fridge that he must’ve had while he waited for you in the shower. His teeth nibble at your bottom lip, and you open for him. His hands settle on your bare waist for what seems like all of two seconds before they’re sliding lower, squeezing flesh, and pulling you in closer. Your fingers pick at the buttons of his shirt, the first few coming free. 

“You sure about this?” is muffled out between kisses.

You pull apart just long enough to say yes before you’re kissing him again, helping him out of his clothes, and falling into bed together. 

—

A knock wakes you. You turn over under Tyler’s arm and, careful not to wake him, rise from the bed. You grab his shirt off the nearby chair and pull it over your head, then slip on some sleep shorts before heading for the door. 

Javi smiles when he sees you, a sense of relief allowing the muscles to release their tension in his body. “Hey,” he says before his eyes fall down to your—Tyler’s—shirt. He raises a brow. 

You shrug. “I like him.”

Javi clicks his tongue. A modest sign of disapproval. “Right, well…I just came by to apologize and let you know that I kicked Scott off the team. He left about an hour ago.”

You hum in acknowledgment. At least you’ll avoid the drama of your ex figuring out you ‘fraternized’ with the leader of the other team. Being storm chasers, dramatics runs through your blood, and it’s not as if Tyler would shy away from any remarks Scott may throw at him or you, but this just happens to be one issue you’d rather not waste the energy on. It’s not his business, anyway.

“Thanks, Javi.”

“I really am sorry,” he says. “I never would’ve imagined he’d–”

“I know. Me either.”

Javi sighs in the silence that follows, then he says, “You sure about Owens?”

You nod. “I’m sure about Owens.”

“I guess we can’t be on opposite sides then, can we?”

“That would be nice,” you say. Javi gives you another smile. “They’re not so bad. I mean, I know they do stuff…differently, but they don’t leave anyone behind.” When a twinge of guilt flashes across his face, you say, “It wasn’t your fault.”

You can’t tell if he believes that’s how you truly feel, but as you nod in reassurance of that statement, he nods with you. 

“Ok,” he says. 

“Ok,” you repeat, and then with one final grin, Javi disappears down the hall. 

You close the door and strip yourself of the clothes you’d thrown on to get back into bed. Tyler’s still asleep. His breathing is soft, even, comforting, and luckily, your spot beside him has maintained its warmth from where you’d been laying all night. 

“I’m sure about you, too,” he suddenly says, voice groggy and eyes remaining closed. He lifts his arm, and you tuck yourself back into his embrace. 

[melodrangea]

Nicknames Soul Eaters Boys call their S/O

———————

Soul “Eater” Evans

sweetheart

he says this extremely sarcastically, especially during training

“C’mon sweetheart, is that all you got? I saw you lift twice as much yesterday.”

doll

often uses it in a more formal setting or when he’s trying to tease

“What’s the matter doll? Cat got your tongue?”

He’s a little menace but he’s our menace <3

babe

most common out of the three

you name DOES NOT exist to this man

no name, no nickname, nothing

“Babe can I borrow your notes. Babe where do you wanna go later? BABE”

———————

Black Star

n/n or another variation of you name

doesn’t really use pet names much (sorry babes)

why words words on pet names? he’s way too blunt and if he’s feeling something he’ll just say it, not waste time on fancy words or pet names

(that’s what he tells himself being fr he’s not creative enough as much as I love him)

babe

mostly used around friends (this dumbass thinks he’s being smug)

“hey babe wasn’t going out yesterday awesome? I mean since we’re so inlove and everything.”

the little shit would make your relationship EVERYONE ELSE’S problem (no one is safe 😭)

———————

Death the Kid

Darling

this pretentious hipster

is fairly consistent with the pet names he uses but darling is his favorite

“Darling can you please pass me that book there?”

“Are you alright darling?”

my dear

uses this one without realizing it most of the time

will be chilling in the library studying and will half-consciously call for you

“are you almost done?”

“just a few minutes more my dear, then we can go”

you chuckled, “what did you call me”

“what do you mean, what did I call you?”

love

Kid is a romantic at heart, very classy as well

he would stare into your eyes and call you love

“my love you have no clue how much I love you.”

———————

Crona Gorgon

honey

you would call him honey bunny as a joke and he loved it so he started calling you honey

would always have the cutest blush in his face when he said it too

“o-oh thank you honey :)” (cutie patootie 💋)

dear

would definitely take him a while to start calling this, but when he does 🤌💋

“are you alright if we stay a little longer dear? It’s been a while since we’ve seen the others”

being fr this poor soul would be TERRIFIED to call you something other than your name or a variation for A WHILE

his brains running six times the speed 🏃🏼

———————

Professor Stein

this sadistic mf

i pray for anyone dating this man

but we can be delulu for a few

dove

would absolutely call you dove or some other kind of bird

reminds him of how he protects you like your a delicate bird (and he likes experimenting on birds if yk what i mean 😏)

angel

TELL ME HE WOULDN’T

ngl he only calls you angel when he’s horny asf in a good mood

“hey angel, can you come here for a bit?”

NONE OF YOUR HOLES ARE SAFE RIP

honey

only time your safe if when he calls you honey

mostly calls you this when you’re having a bad day

BUT HE STILL MANAGES TO SOUND SARCASTIC ASF

this is a warning, this man will accidentally hurt your feelings 24/7

“You doing alright there honey? You want to talk about it?”

———————

Kilik Rung

fuck not being allowed to have favorites I LOVE THIS BITCH

only fully green flag in the show i stg (except Marie ofc)

lovebug

he will call you every single pet name he can come up with, but love bug is his favorite

neither of you know how it started but you’re not complaining

“You’re too sweet for me lovebug” <33

sweets

ya see what i did there? ofc he combines his two favorite things: you and those damn candy bars

“This class is so boring, right sweets?”

will calls you sweets often to express thanks kinda like a “thanks toots”

getting more into that

toots

he thinks he’s funny (and he is)

will say this very ironically and usually infront of friends to make everyone laugh

the only slightly annoying quality abt Kilik is his inability to take anything other than combat seriously

“hey toots, how’s it goin’?”

hon

I SWEAR THIS IS THE LAST ONE!

but you cannot tell me this man is not from New Orleans or some other adjacent

and the hon with the southern-ish accent

being so fr he will call you hon all the time and it will fluster tf out of you (he’s smug abt it, just a little 🤏

“You look nice, who are you all dressed up for hun?”

———————————————————————————

woo hoo first post!

anyways hope y’all are doing great

any comments, questions, requests or concerns feel free to DM me!

-Melodrangea <3

[solbaby7]

Hollow

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of drinking/addiction, probably some swearing, fluff towards the end

summary: [ based off this anon request ]

—

You weren’t really sure how everyone did it.

The whole of the Inner Circle seemed unnaturally equipped in coping after so much war—so much pain. They said time would heal the physical wounds but none of them seemed to have any advice for the psychological ones that began to take root. It felt like a disease, one that festered with each passing day and ached to the touch with not a single herb or tonic in sight to alleviate the symptoms.

Not until Mor came around with her pretty dresses and salacious stories about past lovers with more than a few bottles of wine in tow. You were hesitant at first; never much of a drinker before but after one glass shifted into two and three and four—finally the turmoil subsided. Your dreams were empty for once, no longer replaying the smell of blood in the air or the shouts of anguish from your friends, body vibrating with adrenaline as you comprehended the lives you’d taken. The pieces of yourself that you’d willingly offered up to your Court for the sake of the greater good even if it made you feel so dirty; hands itching to be washed once more to rid yourself of the feeling when you knew there’s nothing really there.

Finally, there was peace.

When the music thrummed so loud you could feel the bass in your bones. Hours of dancing and indulging in more shots than your body could handle and just when it was ready to give out, strong hands grip at your waist. “Off,” You slur, vision too blurred to make out who was touching you before sluggish hands push at the strong frame before you. “I’m not here to mingle.”

“It’s me,” Azriel assures, worry etched in every handsome feature. “Come on, let’s go home.”

He braces the majority of your weight, shadows curling around flailing arms to block the unfortunate splash of your drink from sloshing over the rim. Twin kisses are smacked onto each of his cheeks and any other night he would’ve leaned into them, embracing the public display of affection. This time, something churns in the pit of his stomach, warning bells wailing that something was seriously wrong. “But, we just got here.”

“Princess, you’ve been here every night for the past month.” It’s said gently, sturdy hands scooping you into his grasp when you still couldn’t keep your balance after a few tries. “Come home, please? I miss you.”

Your body melts into his warmth, fingers toying with the stitching of his leathers as you tucked your face in his neck. “Fine, we can go,” He barely catches it over the thrum of the music, syllables skewed and slightly garbled but the shadows catch what he nearly misses. “—I’ll be able to sleep now.”

The cool breeze shifts through the flimsy material of your dress, the early morning dew beginning to fall. “What does that mean? Could you not before?”

You don’t answer him right away; mainly because you’re not sure how to explain that you don’t feel like a person anymore. How you felt like a soul trapped in a body you could barely look at—the feelings only intensifying when you shut your eyes. “My thoughts—my memories are too loud. Mor helped me figure out how to shut it all off.”

He catches the words in between the lines. Haven’t been sleeping. Remember too much. Drinking so you couldn’t feel anything at all. “Oh,” It makes his heart clench, such sadness growing at the thought of you struggling and seeking out whatever would help for the slightest bit of comfort. “Well, maybe, I could fill in for Mor for a while?” Azriel can feel you shift closer into him, can feel your breathing shudder slightly. “Find some other ways to help when it all gets to be too much?”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“That’s okay,” Fingers soothingly card through your hair, soft kisses and even softer reassurances muttered into the shell of your ear. “I’m here, we can figure it all out together.”

It wouldn’t be easy. Or fun. But, at least you wouldn’t be alone.

[darksigns-exe]

the taste of the divine - noah x laurie (ofc)

warnings: Swearing, gentle femdom, use chastity device (cock cage), mommy kink, use of butt plugs (m receiving) oral sex (f receiving), pegging (m receiving)

word count: 4.6k

masterlist | series masterlist | taglist sign-up

“I think I just need to get out of my head.” He says a little shakily. 

Noah isn’t sure where this anxious energy is coming from, either. He’s fidgety, agitated. He can’t find rest no matter how hard he tries. He doesn’t even have anything wild on his calendar. He’s just restless. 

Laurie looks at him with a deep sense of worry. He doesn’t like when she looks like that, not because he doesn’t like how much she cares for him, but rather because he doesn’t want her to worry. 

“Come here, will you?” She asks softly, patting the spot next to her on the sofa. 

Noah follows quietly. He finds himself settling into that space so easily. He hasn’t outright asked for it yet, but Laurie always seems to know when he needs her to really take the reins. 

He settles against her side, lets himself melt against her smaller frame. 

“Can you tell me what you need?” 

That’s the issue, though, he doesn’t quite know what he needs. All he knows is that he needs her to take him apart bit by bit. That he needs to feel himself reduced to the most base part of his soul so that they can put the pieces of him back together afterwards. 

Saying it out loud is a different thing, though. It’s still a little daunting. He’s sure that he’ll eventually be able to ask her to turn him inside out without stumbling over his words like this. 

“Can you take care of me again?” Is the best he can manage. The honorific gets lost in his mumbling. Knowing Laurie, she has still somehow picked up on it. 

Above him, Laurie lets out a soft sigh. She presses a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Oh baby.” She says softly, “You want me in charge of it?”

He lets out a barely there yes, but it’s enough for her. Laurie carefully ushers him to sit up, so that they’re face to face. She keeps a gentle hold on his hand, and he’s more than thankful for it. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen. You can say no at any point, there will be no hard feelings. Understood?”

He nods, looking somewhere between intimidated and shy. 

“Words, Noah. I’ll need to speak up for this.”

“Understood.”

“Good.” She gives him an almost wicked smile, “You’re going to go over into the bedroom and undress for me. I want you to fold your clothes and place them up on the dresser. After that, I want you to sit on the edge of the bed and wait. I’ll be with you in a moment. Is that all clear?”

“Yes.”

She cradles his face in one of her manicured hands, and Noah feels his heart skip a little in anticipation. A kiss is pressed to his cheek and he can feel the remnants of her lipstick staining his skin. 

“Take your time. There’s no rush at all. Is that okay?”

He confirms, still feeling a little shaky. 

Laurie releases her hold on him. 

“Go on, my love.” 

Noah takes a final breath before he scrambles off the sofa. He feels Laurie’s eyes burning into his back as he makes his way over into their now shared bedroom. He knows that she has experience with this, but he hadn’t expected her to be this prepared. They’ve dabbled in this kind of play before, and Laurie had made it very clear that she wanted to help him explore it. He can’t help but feel a little bitter about the thought that someone before him might have felt her gentle hand on their cheek. 

Noah has no idea of what she’s planned for him, and it makes him nervous. He does as she’s asked, strips down until he’s bare and folds his clothes. He feels horribly exposed, even though she’s seen him like this all too often. 

When he sits on the bed, he finds himself automatically placing his hands on top of his thighs. Noah doesn’t know how much time passes until the door clicks open. 

In the dim light of the room, he can barely make out her shape. 

She doesn’t say anything and just quietly checks that he’s done what she asked him to do. 

“Good boy.”

The praise sears through him like fire. 

“Ready for the next part?”

“I’m ready.”

She’s standing right in front of him by then. All soft bodied and warm. Her hand cards through his hair, forcing him to look up at her. 

“We’re going to put a pretty little plug in you. It’s a little bigger than the one we’ve used before, but you’ll be fine. Before that, though, I’d like to lock your cock up. I know it’s a big thing, but the aim of this is for you to give up control. I think you’ll like it.” Her hand shifts towards his cheek, “Does that sound okay?”

“If I decide that I don’t like it?”

“We’ll take it off again. All you have to do is say so.”

“I want to try.” Noah says surprisingly firm. 

“Lie back for me, sweetheart.”

“Can I see how you do it?”

She pauses for a second, fixing him with a minimally concerned look, “Of course. Sit up against the headboard.”

He does as she asks, sits all prettily until she gently tugs him just a little bit forward. 

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Tell me if something feels off, okay?”

His chest heaves with nervous breaths when she carefully moves the ring over his shaft. She’s so calm with it that Noah’s sure that she has done this before. He doesn’t have time to question how this thing works. 

“That’s the first part done. How’s it feel?”

Noah dares to look down for the first time. It’s just a ring that sits at the base of his cock and behind his balls. It’s new. It feels strange. It’s tight, but not uncomfortably so. 

“It’s good.”

“Do you need a moment?” 

“Can I see the rest?”

“The actual cage?”

He nods “Yes.”

The plastic feels too light for what it means. He doesn’t know how it’ll fit, how it’ll feel in general. The idea makes him feel a little dizzy, though. He’d asked her to take control from him, he’d wanted this. And now that it’s practically dangling in front of his face, he feels a little scared of it all. 

“Do you just want to see how it feels first? We don’t have to lock it immediately.”

The tenderness she gives him when they play like this always makes him shiver. Laurie’s always so gentle with him, so caring. When they’d first started to talk about kink in this way, and she told him that she prefers to be in charge, most of the time his mind had gone straight to cuffs and whips and whatever else porn had sold him. That this kind of dominance could be gentle, too, had been entirely new to him. 

He can’t imagine them being different now. Noah hadn’t thought of himself as anything really when it came to this kind of thing. But when Laurie tells him to be good, he can’t help himself. Doing as she asks is a natural instinct. 

“Noah?” The stern edge to her voice makes his head snap up, “I asked you something.”

“Can we just try it for now?”

Her face softens immediately, “Of course, my love.”

He holds the plastic piece out to her. Laurie sits in front of him, one hand on his knees as she gently pries his thighs apart just a little bit more. This he knows. 

“Tell me if something feels off, okay?” 

“Okay.” He mirrors.

Noah tries to think of anything but her, when she takes him into her hand. It’s such an odd feeling. He’d thought that it would be a tight fit, but it’s surprisingly comfortable. She’s so careful with it, too. 

“How’s that feel?” 

Her hand is still holding it in the position it would be in when locked. 

Noah thinks for a moment. 

He wants to try at least. Even if it’s just out of curiosity. 

“It’s good.”

Laurie smiles then, all soft and sweet, before she presses a kiss to his cheek. 

“Hold it up for me?”

Noah nods. 

He watches as she picks up a small key from the night stand. 

“If you want it off at any moment, let me know. We’ll stop immediately.”

“I will.”

“Good boy.” Her thumb drifts over his cheek briefly.

His eyes follow her hands when she moves to lock the cage in place. He feels himself twitch inside the plastic. 

“There you go.”  

The key returns to its place on the night stand. 

His tummy feels all kinds of twisted up. It’s not bad, though. To his surprise, he likes it, likes how small it makes him feel. 

“How do you feel?”

“Good. I like it.” 

And he really does. There’s an odd sense of comfort that comes with it. He’s entirely hers right now, and that sets his mind at ease. 

“Do you need a moment or are you good to go on?”

“We can go on.” 

Laurie has him move onto his hands and knees in the middle of the bed. Normally, Noah prefers to be on his back for this part. He wants to see her, wants to see how it affects her, but with what they’re doing today this feels right.

Her fingers drift across his skin. He’s on edge, unsure of where she’ll touch next. Lips press to his lower back, lower still against the soft round of his backside. Her thumbs drag along the length of his spine, and he moans with relief. It’s not enough to ease the knots out of his back, but it feels divine. 

“Gonna be cold for a second, honey.” She whispers before he feels the first touch of her finger against the taut muscle. 

Laurie draws slow circles against his entrance, carefully works her pointer finger into him. The ache isn’t so bad any more. He’s gotten used to it and the stretch of her fingers by now. The comforting hand on his waist helps too. It’s a constant reminder that she’s there, that she’s taking care of him. 

Noah feels himself getting lost in the feeling. His soft sighs quickly turn into whines when she works a second finger into him. 

“You’re doing so well for me, my love. Always such a good boy.” She coos. 

The praise always makes him sink further into that headspace. The more she praises him, the better he wants to be for her. 

Noah presses back against her, desperate to feel more. 

“I know what you want.” She gives his waist a gentle squeeze, “You’ll get it if you’re good for me.”

“Please.” 

Her fingers still at his plea, “You’ve been so very good. Don’t get bratty now. I told you, you’ll get what you want if you’re good.” 

Noah cranes his head back, trying to get a glimpse of her, “Please mommy, I’ll be good. I promise.” 

Laurie gazes at him with a tenderness that makes him want to crumble beneath her. 

She pats his waist softly, “I know you will. You love being my good boy, don’t you?”

He whines out a yes, and that seems to be enough for Laurie. She picks up her slow and steady rhythm once again. They’ve done this part a few times, and Noah knows that he has to keep his mind empty if he wants to last. He can’t tell how long they’re here like this. The press of her fingers against his walls almost makes his arms buckle a few times. And when Laurie eventually removes her fingers from his hole, Noah finds himself whining at the sudden emptiness. 

“You’ve almost made it, baby.” Her gentle voice seeps through his already fogged up mind, “Just the plug now, and then we’re done.”

He feels her lean towards the night stand, but Noah can’t bring himself to look at what she’s doing. He doesn’t have to wait long, though. Her hands soon return to his waist. 

“How are you feeling?” 

It takes Noah a second too long to reply, because a moment later she has moved to his side. 

“Noah?” 

Laurie cups the side of his face, to make him look at her. 

“Talk to me, love.”

He blinks at her a few times, shifting uncomfortably. 

“Do you want to take a break?” She asks softly, thumb drifting across his cheek so sweetly. 

“Just a second.” Noah replies shakily. 

Laurie tilts his head up just a little bit more, before she leans in to kiss him. 

“You’ve been so, so good for me.” She whispers against his lips. 

The sweet, gentle praise, she showers him with, seeps into his mind. And when she moves back behind him, Noah patiently anticipates the dull pressure of the plug. He whines when he finally feels it. Laurie takes her time with it, slowly easing the plug into his hole. His breath catches when the widest part of it stretches him open. It slips inside so easily that Noah doesn’t even have the time to moan. 

“There you go, my darling. All done.” another squeeze of his waist, “Want a little break now?” 

 His head perks up at that. 

He sits up next to her, shifting a little when the plug moves inside of him. Laurie pulls him in for another gentle kiss. Her hand feels so awfully small against his cheek, but it’s always so reassuring. Laurie moves them so that Noah is resting against her belly, arms wrapped around her middle as best as he can. The sweet things she whispers to him barely reach his conscious mind. He feels so safe and comfortable when they’re like this, so well taken care of. The gentle care she gives him eases his worries like little else does.

As comfortable as he is, he can’t stop his restless shifting. Laurie cards her hand through his hair, carefully pushing some of the strands away from his face. 

“Think you’re up for more? I know this is a lot at once.” 

He turns his head so that he can look at her, “We can go on.” 

“Still comfortable?”

“Very.” he can’t hide the smile that so desperately wants to force its way onto his face. 

“Good. Do you want to get on your knees for me? Show me just how good you are?”

He nods and almost immediately tries to worm his way out of her embrace. Laurie laughs softly at his eagerness. 

“You know where I want you.” She continues, “Be good for me and wait. I’ll be right back with you.”

He wants to protest, wants to whine when she walks past him. But he knows better by now. Whining won’t get him what he wants. And so Noah only lets out a hum when her hand runs through his hair and down the side of his face. He doesn’t turn when he hears one of the drawers behind him slide open and close again. Noah hears her moving, the rustling of clothes, and a moment later Laurie is back in front of him. She’s shed her shorts, leaving only the shirt of his that she’d borrowed earlier in the day. 

Noah lets his head drop to the inside of her thigh when she’s properly seated. It almost feels as if his mind is set onto a singular goal. He waits patiently, eyes fixed on her face. He feels drowsy in the best way possible. The things he’d been agonising over had faded into the background of his mind, leaving him only with the desire to be good for her. 

“Mommy?” He asks quietly. 

Laurie looks at him with a softness that makes him shiver, “Hm?”

“Can I?”

“What do you want, love? You’ll have to be a bit clearer.”

“Can I put my mouth on you? I’ve been good, haven’t I?” the desperation in his voice is evident by now. 

Laurie pulls him closer with a gentle hand on his cheek, “You’ve been so good. Go on.” 

Noah surges forward as soon as her thighs are parted wide enough to for it. His hands curl around her thighs, fingers digging into her skin. He sighs when his tongue makes contact with her folds. The taste of her floods his senses and Noah lets himself get lost in the sensations of it. Laurie’s fingers tangle into his hair, holding him close, even though they both know that she’ll have to pry him away later. 

He kisses and laps at her folds so carefully. By now, Noah has a good grip on what she likes, and he’s more than happy to give her exactly that. The pretty sighs that fall from her lips fuel his slow exploration. The gentle scrape of her fingers against his scalp feels like heaven and mixed with her sweet taste he can’t imagine himself anywhere else. Not that he wants to be anywhere else. 

“Always make me feel so good, love.” she sighs, “You’re so good for me.” 

He looks up at her, warmth filling his insides. She’s so beautiful, and he’s so in love. Laurie gazes at him with so much softness, so much love. Her grip on his hair tightens, as she pulls him deeper against her again. He whines against her when she pulls at his hair just right. Noah feels so dizzy with it. Between the different stimuli, he doesn’t quite know what to focus on first. The plug shifts inside him, making him gasp and moan against her. Above him, Laurie mirrors the sounds he makes, sighing with every pass of his tongue through her folds. 

He feels her shudder through her climax, but her hands remain in his hair, and he knows that she wants him to continue. Noah remains between her thighs, until she pries him away. He doesn’t know how long she had allowed him to stay between her thighs like this, but from the ache in his knees, it must have been some time. His head thumps against the inside of her thigh again. Noah draws in a deep breath. He can feel the residue of her release on his face. 

Laurie seems to be just as breathless as he is. The thin sheen of sweat that covers her face makes her skin shine so prettily. 

“You were so good for me, my dear.” she says so sweetly, “I think you’ve really earned your treat.” 

Noah feels himself perk up at that. 

Laurie gives a little laugh in return, “Come up here, will you?” 

He scrambles up to his feet, almost tumbling over on top of her as he does. Laurie’s hands quickly find their way to the sides of his face, pulling him in for a kiss. 

“On your back, Noah.” another kiss, “I’ll be right with you.” 

Noah does as she asked, positioning himself in the middle of the bed. His hands open and close over and over again, unsure of where wants to leave them. He watches as Laurie steps into the harness. He’s been waiting for this since they started. Noah loves how attentive she is with him. She takes such good care of him, always intent of making him feel good. 

The sight of the strap on always makes shiver a little. They’ve worked their way up to one that isn’t too far off from the size of his own cock. It looks enormous on her. He squirms, anticipating the feeling of it inside of him. 

“Think you’re ready for it?” Laurie asks, as she comes to kneel between his legs.

Noah nods quickly, “Yes.”

Her hands run across his thighs. Noah feels the muscle spasm beneath her touch. One hand remains on his thigh, while the other moves towards the plug. Laurie’s eyes remain fixed on his when she tugs at the plug. She scans his face for discomfort, and when she doesn’t find any, she continues to pull at it. Noah’s hands grip into the bedsheets below him, trying to stifle the whine that sits behind his lips. It breaks free eventually when the widest part of the plug passes through him. It’s over a moment later. Laurie squeezes his thigh when he lets out a faint little whimper. 

“You’re doing so good, love.” she whispers, “So, so good.” 

Laurie uncaps the bottle of lube again. The nervous anticipation in Noah’s belly threatens to bubble over. He winces when the cold lube touches his skin, earning himself another calming squeeze of his thigh. She covers the toy in lube, her small hand fitting around it just barely. 

It’s a dizzying sight.

Noah can’t keep his eyes open any longer when he feels the dull head of the toy against his hole. Thanks to the preparation, the toy slips in easily. His thighs spread further, giving Laurie more space. Noah feels himself whimpering, gasping as it sinks into him. Laurie leans across to kiss him, when the toy is fully seated inside of him. 

“Feeling good, love?” she asks softly. 

He can’t bring himself to speak up this time, and thankfully Laurie doesn’t force the words out of him this time. Instead, her hands find their way to his waist. Her fingers drift across the skin of his tummy. 

He gasps when the toy shifts, as she readjusts her position a little. Noah gives the faintest nod, signalling that he’s ready to continue. He’s glad that she’s giving him this grace. Usually, she’s so very intent on him giving verbal responses. 

Laurie pulls back until just the head of the toy remains inside. She keeps her thrusts slow, drawing out the end he craves so much. He feels himself fraying at the seems with every thrust she gives. What Laurie gives him is enough to keep him right at the edge of it, but not enough to send him over the edge. One of his hands releases the sheets and instead comes to hold onto her thigh, needing to feel her skin somehow. Laurie’s hand curls around his, entangling their fingers to ground him. It’s enough to get Noah to open his eyes again. He needs another moment, before he can bring himself to look at her across the length of his body. He can’t look at where they’re joined for very long. She looks gorgeous, eyes blown wide, lips parted and spit-slicked, cheeks tinged pink. 

“Does that feel good?” she asks, sounding a little breathless already. 

Noah tries his best to articulate a yes, but it comes out as a breathy whine. She smiles and the movement of his hips stutters just a little.  

He whines out her name, gasping when she hits just the right spot. Seeing his thigh hiked up against her waist, her hand gripping into his skin, melts his brain even more. His back arches off the mattress, and the sweet words Laurie speaks turn into fuzz. Noah swears that his vision whites out when his climax hits him. It’s overwhelming, and Noah feels as if he’s floating several feet above his own body. The feeling becomes too much a moment later, and he squeezes her hand twice to signal it to Laurie. 

She stops moving immediately. 

Laurie gently guides his leg back down to the mattress. 

“You did so well for me, Noah.” she says, barely above a whisper, “Do you need a moment?”

“You can pull out.” he croaks, his voice so rough and worn out. 

His grip on her hand tightens when she does, and he only whines when she gets up off the bed. Laurie doesn’t shush him like she sometimes does, doesn’t tell him to stop whining and that she’ll only be away for a moment. His eyes fall shut again and Noah lets himself revel in the feeling for a moment longer. 

The bed dips down again and he feels her undo the lock. Noah can’t stop the sigh that falls from him when she carefully pulls the cage away again. It feels as if it has been ages, but at the same time he’d gotten used to it so quickly that he had barely noticed it towards the end. 

“I’m going to get a wash cloth and start us a bath, okay? I’ll be right back.” the words barely reach his drowsy mind. 

He feels a little more settled when Laurie returns a little while later. Additionally, to the wash cloth, she had picked up one of the cookies they’d gotten from the café earlier that day and a bottle of water. Noah sits up against the headboard, letting his head drop against it when she sits next to him. He should be used to the routine that follows. But she’s so gentle with him when she cleans the residue of his cum from his skin. Being taken care of like this always makes him feel so very loved. Laurie tends to him so sweetly that it makes his heart soar every time. 

“How are you feeling?” Laurie asks when he’s settled against her in the tub. 

It’s more than a little cramped, he barely fits into the damned thing and his knees stick out of the lush, warm water. The comfort of this part is unmatched though.

“Good.” he replies, “I don’t think that I’ve ever felt like that.” 

Laurie presses a kiss to his cheek, “Think we’ve gotten you out of your head?” 

He pauses for a moment, tempted to be cheeky about it. Instead, he nods. 

“Thank you, Laurie. You always take care of me and I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

Another kiss to cheek, “Thankfully we don’t have to think about that case, because you’re not getting rid of me. Ever.”  

Nor would he ever want to. He can’t attest all of his progress to Laurie, but she’d always shown him so much unconditional kindness and love that he’d at some point started to see himself worthy of that. Noah doesn’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the way he’d found a sense of profound happiness. The comfort he finds in these small four walls they share, their little routines, the gentle little touches they exchange throughout the day slowly mends the cracks in his chest. And he’s sure that he wouldn’t have found any of this if it hadn’t been for her. 

He tries to pay it back as best as he can. He knows that he’s clumsy with it sometimes. It comes so effortlessly to her and Laurie is adamant that he’s doing more than enough to her. But on some days the sandwiches he brings her – not from the shop but their own kitchen – don’t feel sufficient to express the love and gratitude he feels. He knows that she doesn’t expect grand gestures from him, they’ve had this discussion more than once. All Noah wants is to give some of the love she gives him back.

“All this work to get you out of your head, just for you to get lost again.” Laurie tuts behind him. 

“Just thought about how good this all is.” Noah answers after a moment, “I love you so much.” 

He tries to crane his head back to look at her. When he can’t quite reach her, he tries to turn and his shifting slashes some of the water out onto the tiles and the carpet. None of it matters though when gets to look at her and Laurie whispers an I love you too against his lips. 

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken

[operationnope]

Listen, maybe it’s just that I’ve done almost every slow burn route this game has ever thrown at us (Jake, Noah, Finn, now Ozzy, I also went for Oliver who was a last minute LI in S4), but I’m kind of… hopeful still? I won’t lie lmao, that hurt. It really hurt for a minute there. But at the end of the day, after you get a minute to sit back on it, it’s kind of understandable.

I seriously don’t get why people can do whatever they want in this game (MC included), but, if Ozzy does it, he’s the villain. Was what he did great? No. But was he hurt and confused and just made a mistake? Yeah. It’s actually not that different from what Grace did in CA, just less intentional. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t think Grace is a bad person. She’s not my favorite (I won’t lie), but she’s a good gal. So, I get it (I still have to get completely over it myself), but let’s not talk about Ozzy like he’s this bad person, please.

He’s no Suresh. More than anything, Ozzy gives Noah vibes with an even softer personality, more baggage AND more insecurities.

MC was absolutely right to be mad at Ozzy right about now, but personally I also defended him from Marshall and Grace, because what was that. The hypocrisy (Grace), the gall (Marshall).

Also, I see that a lot of people are forgetting this is Love Island and Ozzy had no obligation to anyone at the time in which CA happened. We have every right to be upset, of course, but he’s no snake or player. Personally, I kind of just want to hug him.

Again, MC is completely right to be mad at Ozzy now (though I’ll admit, I’m already dying for the two of them to sort things through), but the fact that Ozzy was spiralling so bad he went for a three-way kiss while skinny dipping (when we know how he feels about intimacy) absolutely broke my heart.

(Not to mention, when Ozzy said he immediately regretted that night and was beating himself up about it, I swear I felt his words down in my soul. Plus, he’s the only one who owned up to his own mistakes. That, in my opinion, is more important than not making them at all.)

ALL 👏 OF 👏 THIS 👏

Fact: We weren’t in a couple with Ozzy

Fact: As MC, you can make so many choices throughout the game (kissing, bits, lap dances, etc.) that you get away with

Fact: It stung, but I still love Ozzy

Maybe we are all just making excuses for him, but I really don’t think he’s a bad guy. He owned up to it and seemed so remorseful. Grace was unapologetic for kissing Hamish, which I don’t really care about, but then she’s livid about Ozzy. I like her but I’m over her antics.

At the end of the day, I’ve put up with much worse in this game- Cherrygate, Blake, S5 to name a few. We’ll get over this, too 💖💖

[k0uhi]

.

vocaloids

one of the more interesting bits about n25 to me is just the interplay of the vocaloids and the MCs and the difference in their personalities vs the rest of the cast

[we already know that the vocaloids are manifestations/representations/beings that take from the personalities of the MCs' units, and then some, but sometimes, they still feel like their own distinct person/a that that makes you think it's that vocaloid instead of just an aspect of someone's personality.

that much is not as true for the n25 vocaloids at the beginning because they're all manifestations of what someone in n25 needed (miku, mafuyu's comfort. rin, ena's guide. meiko, mizuki's friend. luka, the instigator. len, mafuyu's emotional safety vocaloid. kaito, their aggressive meddler) they didnt seem more than anything else than their purpose — which has changed as of late given that they've all started to develop more interests, more personality, as mafuyu continues to grow and each of n25 discovers pieces of themselves.]

but then we get into how they deal with CONFLICT

I HAVE NOT RECALLED ANY OTHER TIME WHERE THERE WAS AN ACTIVE CLASH BETWEEN METHODS THAT WASN'T IN N25 .

the other units' vocaloids can talk it out and they might share a slight disagreement (vbs) but it's not like it's outright confronting each other like what kaimei did? [my kaimeiluka crumbs were fed these three i swear] meiko actively tells kaito to stop and kaito challenges meiko's views. like, their way of helping is clearly contradictory and clashes all the time, and the only way they actually agree is to disagree with luka who would only insinuate but never say anything directly.

i like that meiko tells him "your methods are too harsh for her" and she outright says to mizuki "what you hold is fragile" and she does care. she does care so much. she wants to help but she thinks meddling would break something more than healing it, so her job is to stay, to listen, to wait until she is actually needed and wanted. kaito's always been their aggressive coach and honestly he really does mean well. not his fault if he is the manifestation of all of mafuyu's supressed rage and anger. of course he and meiko would class in a "do you honestly think this is sustainable" vs "do you honestly think forcing her would help her" debate.

[i also think it's interesting that of all the vocaloids, kaito is the most fixated on mafuyu's health because he's in her sekai. caring about the rest is adjacent, but not the full priority? considering he justifies his reason to inquiring about mizuki because she's an important person to mafuyu makes me wonder even more about how much all of the vocaloids subconsciously know. because to some extent, they all know that something is UP with the emotions of the MCs]

in any case i think that the longer that mafuyu grows i want to take a stab at it and guess that the sekai won't just be mefuyu's anymore. reading kaito's side story part 2 in the lake, when he finds rin's flower corsage, it falls apart right, and he gets an ominous feeling? mafuyu didn't even know that happened yet (timing is unclear) so if we assume it happened right around episode 6-8, then mizuki's emotions are now joining mafuyu's, affecting the sekai (perhaps).

mizuki

i cried. i cried so much. i was so incoherent trying to blubber out to my friend that mizuki didn't deserve to be outed like that and that her running away broke my heart and soul. her last voice lines weren't even transcribed god this whole event i was in a roller coaster of emotion like i was dreading! dreADING!!!!!!!!! everything that would come and i already started crying in the first part because why wouldnt i.

ena's last line was interesting! she sounded like she was blaming herself... so im excited/devastated for the 2nd part in ena5 to come to a head and er frantically trying to reach out to mizuki.

MVs

i mentioned this already but god making mizuki wear her costume and sticking her in every single mv just like that. KILLS ME. IT'S LIKE A GOODBYE. THIS COSTUME IS SO GOOD . i keep getting reminded of nier automata . kaito fits really well with shadow shadow, idsmile; and i keep putting passion at 25:00 on repeat like i can convince mizuki that she is so loved and the world is so unfair to her.

that was a great event. what a time to be an n25 oshi

[swaramalani]

NANOWRIMO CHAPTER 1 : (Part 4/4)

Gravestones are truly something. They not only tell who the soul was, but they also hold an identity; a meaning to the life of the one who lived; a glimpse into their life and why they even lived to begin with. However, the story does not stop there.

As he looked down to see Noxar’s gravestone, Kyxian only saw some garbled text. Some gibber, some nonsensical writing in a foreign language. Although he hadn’t gotten to see what was actually written on the gravestone, he could swear this was not it. He could swear he wanted to see something noble written of his love. He could swear this was a mistake. Right?

Fury plopped its way down Kyxian’s chest, as he became more and more certain that this was unmistakably a mistake. How could anyone do this to him? To Noxar?

He started clenching his teeth until he started frowning when something weird came up. The writing on the gravestone… changed. It was still illegible, but it had transformed into something else. And the next time he blinked, it had faded into some other text again. Like water, the letters��� flow kept on changing. The text was short sometimes, and longer the other times. It extended unto multiple lines sometimes, and it was just a single word the other times, from what Kyxian could deduce, anyway. It remained anything but constant.

He looked at Syratha with a huge question mark on his face, which said, “Can you see that too? Or am I just going crazy after losing the only thing I ever owned?” Syratha hesitated, and did a reluctant nod. So, Kyxian was not losing his mind; it wasn’t just him.

Kyxian was dumbfounded and just confusedly stared at the gravestone changing its colours. Syratha said nothing, but gaped.

Printed text was morphing right in front of Kyxian’s eyes. Was it some sort of hoax? How could it be, though? Syratha was able to see it too. How could both of their eyes betray them? Had they gone just so insane from their loss, that they had lost vision of their sight completely?

The words continued to pop up like it was nobody’s business, all messy and distorted. There were one too many punctuation marks and chaos, as if their were multiple writers. The thought of it seemed even more absurd now.

Kyxian turned his head and narrowed his eyes as he said in a low tone, “Puh-lee…” It seemed as though, slowly and slowly, the text seemed to become a tiny bit comprehensible. “…ease? Puh-lee-ease?” Kyxian gasped, “Please?”, and looked at Syratha. She simply shrugged.

Kyxian really didn’t know what to make of this. The whole thing was wild. Remorse had turned into confusion, as his brain was empty but his heart was not.

What manifested itself next was nothing less than a branch on a tree; the start of something that would untangle the complicatedness of it all. After the continuation of some random syllables appearing (like, “see”, “caa”, “mee”, “wur”) for quite some time, five simple words surfaced that finally made some coherent sense— “Can you talk to me?”

Taken aback, Kyxian simply did not know what to do, and so he did the most obvious, most natural, and the most human thing; which was to say “Hello?” and to wave in the air, as if talking on call. His voice, although silky, was loud enough for even those outside the graveyard to hear it. He undoubtedly got some appalled, and even some concerned looks from the observers. Though, he persisted in his quest to return the conveyance, and so the ‘hellos’ spat out one after another; least to say, Kyxian was very much on the edge right now.

“Kyx actually can…” Kyxian froze right in his tracks. Kyx? There was only ever one person who had called him by that name. And the said person was dead. Kyxian traced his hand over the stone, letter by letter, and with the other hand, pulled back his eyelids to make sure what he was reading was correct; it was. Kyx.

“What… the… fuck…?” Kyx felt emotionless and was burdened with a dozen different emotions at the same time.

The set of words that would be the last to come into existence for a long time were, “Your help is needed.”

[soupbitch-moneybitch]

blackbonnet drabble i pulled out of my hyperfixated ass. major s2 spoilers:

if i never see your eyes again

The first thing about Edward Teach that Stede Bonnet noticed were his eyes.

They were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Choked more than half to death, bleeding from the gut, lying in the midst of black smoke and hot flame, Stede saw two beacons of light emerge from the darkness surrounding him. A pair of soft, glinting doe-eyes that contradicted the rest of his person, all wild mane and tight leather. His eyes were the calm in the storm, and instantly Stede, all bloody and afraid, had been awash with a sense of serenity. These eyes—and the man they belonged to, whomever he was—they would make it all right again.

Despite everything, despite the carnage and screams and blood, he had smiled. He couldn't not smile at eyes like that.

And now, he will never see them again.

The worst thing about Ed's lifeless body, Stede thinks, as he rips away the cloth covering his still face, color drained from his usually vibrant skin, is the fact that his eyes are closed. Because it means that Stede will never again see the way the sunlight catches on Ed's irises like the rays sparkling on the endless ocean. He will never again see them crinkle in the corners with crows-feet when Stede makes him laugh. He will never again see him bat his long lashes, or widen them comically large when hit with a scheme or an idea for a fuckery. 

He will never again see the way his pupils blow wide when he's been properly kissed.

Every night since they've been apart, Stede has dreamt of Ed's eyes, looking back at him with as much love as Stede feels in his heart, and now those dreams will remain a thing of fantasy. There will be no gentle gaze on a sandy beach as the waves lap up onto the shore around them. 

Stede will never see Ed's eyes again, and it's a tragedy so monumental that he can't even feel the full breadth of it all. His chest is a pitch-black, bottomless cavern. Ed had once told him that all the important bits were on the right, but the shattering of Stede's heart solidly on his left side suggests he forgot about something vital. 

How is he meant to survive this? Ed's eyes are closed, goddamnit, and he's just meant to keep on breathing? 

He presses his forehead to his clasped hands and says, "I'm sorry." It's not enough, but it's not like there's a combination of words in the English language to convey the depth of his grief anyway. Of his regret. So he settles with "I'm sorry," and says it again for good measure, because the "I love you" that he wants to say is stuck as a suffocating lump in his throat.

The room is silent. Even the sea seems still. No room that Ed Teach occupied has ever been this quiet. He's too big a personality; the air vibrates in his mere presence. Or it used to. Now, with nothing but his body there lying slack on his deathbed, Stede realizes that Ed's soul took the sound with it when it left the room.

Except, suddenly, the silence breaks. A soft thudding sound pulls Stede out of his reverie of misery. He turns toward it and sees, with a lightning strike to his disassembled heart, the twitching of his beloved's hand.

And he begins to plead, aloud to Ed, and internally to whatever God that may be listening, that there may be life inside him yet. That Stede may see his eyes again.

"Come back to me," he begs, because now that he has it, he knows that having this hope dashed would surely put him in the ground right beside Ed. 

Ed's hand is still twitching, but his eyes are still closed.

If this chance is a fuckery, and I never see your eyes again, Stede thinks, then I never want to see anything ever again. Make me blind, because the world will no longer have anything worth viewing if your eyes aren't in it.

The air is vibrating again. Stede swears he can feel Ed's soul returning. He holds his hands so tightly that his own fingers ache from the clench. He prays. He prays and begs and prays some more, that somehow, he managed not to be too late.

Ed's eyes fly open.

They're the most beautiful thing Stede Bonnet has ever seen. 

[gl00mystarz]

Ah, that's superb! Well then, I would like to request a Sean with a Male!Reader who learns about the Readers chest scars (you know, because he's trans :0) but if you don't feel like you are able to do that, then a Male!Rrader who has cheesy one-liners, is getting flirt back by Sean and Reader is learning on that day that they are very easily getting flustered by a silly scottish accent :]

Yes!! I myself as a trans man love writing trans readers!!

Plus I love Sean, Sean is amazing and the love of my life <3

CW; swearing, mentions of scars and transphobia (not from Sean<3), injury, Micah (/hj)

WC; too tired <3

Battle Scars, sorta ya know?

See, Sean was a rather nosy fellow, at least that's what he'd often say about himself. So of course, he had heard many stories about some scars you kept hidden on your chest, and no one knew the real reason they were there. So he was a little curious, taking it upon himself one late night at the camp, while you were off by yourself fixing up your latest wound. He asked you "Oi, how'd ya get those scars if ye don't mind me askin'?" you of course sighed, a little too caught up in your injury to want to answer, but of course, your little crush on the Irishman got in the way, so you figured why not. You knew he'd blab to the whole camp, but you didn't care. You knew the gang would love and accept you anyhow. It was just Sean you wanted to still love you.

Despite everything, and how the Irishman may act, you loved him dearly, Sean made you feel whole in a way you couldn't quite understand, but nonetheless, you trusted him. So you turned your attention to him, looking at him skeptically before sighing "They're crude top surgery scars, Sean, I wasn't ya know.." you began to trail off, unsure of how to word the next part in a way you were sure the; probably drunk, Irishman could understand. "I wasn't born a man Sean, I'm just as much a man as you.. or Arthur, just born different." At this Sean seemed to think for a moment, only to open his mouth and be cut off by Micah. "What she's sayin' ya drunk bastard is she's a fake man."

You had chosen to ignore Micah's crude commentary and went back to tending your wound, becoming completely turned off from the conversation. You expect Sean to laugh, but instead, he seemed to get.. angry? "Whatcha talkin' bout man? He's jus as much a man as you or me. 'Fact, thinkin' he's more a man than you, ya dirty rat." Giving Micah his normal smile he spoke once more "Why dontcha scram now fore I bust ya ugly fuckin' face in, yeah?" You could see the look of shock on Micah's face, and it made you laugh a bit as the aforementioned man skulked off to somewhere else in the camp, probably to bother another poor soul. Though your heart beat wildly in your chest; giving Sean an appreciative smile "Thanks Sean, means a lot to me."

Sean looked at you almost bewildered "Why wouldn't I protect ya? You means a lot to me ya know. Wouldn't want that nasty ol' bastard to ruin how you're feeling." He looked around a bit before a cheeky smile popped up on his face "Does that mean ya have the lady bits like the other girls in camp? or would they be your man bits?" Of course, Sean had to end it off with you laughing, shaking your head, and almost wincing at the pain shooting through you from your injury, but you're glad he always knew how to keep your mood light. If anything, you wouldn't trade your spunky Irishman for anyone in the whole world, you were glad it was him you ended up falling in love with, and you always would be.

[alovelyfox]

Chapter 3: Really just a simple favour

Please note there are mentions of suicide/substance abuse in this chapter, so reader discretion is advised.

This has got to be one of the most uncomfortable dates of all time. Not that you've been on many, but if this is what dating is like, you think it's time to ask your parents for an arranged marriage. And it's not that your date is ugly or anything too. Stan's wearing an oversized blue and red jacket with a pair of ripped blue jeans. He has a little bit of scruff on his chin, with his hair dyed blonde rather than natural, something you could tell by his black roots still showing. He didn't look so much like a creep as Kyle predicted, more like a washed up rock star wearing clothes from the kids section of a Wal-Mart. But your main problem with him is how fucking boring he's acting right now.

You've been making polite conversation with him for the past 5 minutes, and he's giving you nothing to work with. When you asked about his day so far, he gave you a curt 'fine’, then didn't bother to ask about yours. So you try again, telling him that you recently started a job at a law firm, but he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else but listening to you.

What a dick you think. I mean, he was the one who practically begged to have this date with me, yet he's acting like I'm not even here! Fuck my life.

“Hey, do you have any friends you think you could set me up with?" He asks, and it takes all your willpower to not openly slap him across the face.

Is he insane? Or does he find me so utterly awful that he's decided he's done with this date and wants to start planning his next one. Piece of shit.

"Like any cute friends?" He asks again. "Anyone with, let's say, straight black hair and choppy bangs in the front. And black eyes you can feel your soul getting lost in, that make you feel safe and like she's gonna take care of you forever... Oh, and a pink beret, maybe in some childhood photos or maybe still now?"

"Wendy? Are you asking about my roommate Wendy?"

His eyes light up when you mention her name and you feel your heart sink.

"Wait, so you asked me on a date only so you could get one with my roommate? Are you fucking serious? Nah, fuck you and fuck whatever this is." You get up to leave and make it out the door before he grabs you by the arm.

"Y/N please. I swear, I never meant to play you or anything, I'm not that kind of guy. Just let me explain." Stan pleads with you.

"Did you set up this date because you genuinely like me or because you're a stalker creep who likes my roommate so much that you'd do anything to get with her? Cause if it's the second one, that explains everything to me right there." You say, and he turns silent.

You look at your phone and the clock reads 6:15. You wonder if Kyle's still nearby when Stan interrupts your thoughts.

“Look, Y/N. I'm sorry, it's true. I did set up this date because I wanted you to help me get in touch with Wendy, but please hear me out. I met Wendy when we were in pre-school, and I've been in love with her ever since. We were one of those on again-off again couples in middle school, but during high school I fucked up. She broke up with me and moved away for college, while I stayed in that shithole town and let the loneliness consume me. I hated myself for letting her get away, for losing one of the most perfect girls to ever exist. But I came to my senses, decided enough was enough and came here."

You hate how sincere he sounds, and you feel yourself sympathizing with him. With a heavy sigh, you start walking back to your apartment, and motion for him to follow.

"I don't know Wendy that well, but I really like her. Also, she's doing well right now. And I'll be damned if I'm gonna let some douchey ex of hers come into her life and screw it all up. So I have to know the full story, which you're gonna tell me as we walk back to my apartment. If it's good enough, I'll invite you in to meet her, but if not, you leave both her and I the hell alone. Deal?"

He sighs loudly, but nods his head and reluctantly starts following you home.

"Deal. So, it all started when my friend Eric Cartman got an anal probe..."

…

Hearing Stan talk about his middle school relationship with Wendy softens your heart towards him, if only a little. The way he used to throw up when she talked to him, and how she paid a group of Iraqis to capture one of their teachers whom he had a crush on and shoot her into the sun. Okay the second one sounds kind of crazy, but it's obvious that they cared for each other a lot, at least when they were young. But when discussing what happened to them in high school, Stan freezes up.

"I fucked up. I really fucked it all up. Everyone else knew exactly what they were doing with their lives, and I had no fucking clue what to do with mine. I got really depressed, and turned to alcohol to numb the pain. My dad's an alcoholic, so maybe it's just something I inherited. But I pushed everyone away. My family, my best friends, and especially Wendy. She tried her hardest to get me to quit, to try and salvage what we had. But she broke up with me, saying that she couldn't watch me kill myself, and that it was time for her to move on. I was so wrapped up in all my shit that I didn't even care. I didn’t put up a fight, just watched her leave. I stayed in South Park while I watched everyone else get on with their lives, and all I wanted was to be back in middle school, when my friends didn't look at me with pity in their eyes and the love of my life was still mine."

So far, he had been walking alongside you while talking, but now he stops in his tracks and stares at the ground for a moment before his next words.

"I tried to kill myself two months ago."

Your eyes widen, seeing him so vulnerable like this. He turns to look up at the star pierced night sky which had befallen the both of you, obviously trying to will away the tears which were forming in his eyes. You're about to step forward and try to comfort him but he resumes walking, so you follow him while he continues on with what he was saying.

"Well, not really. It wasn't like I got a noose or a gun and just ended it. I had been on a three day bender with my dad's hidden supply, and in my drunken state I stumbled onto some train tracks. And I saw the train heading towards me, yet I didn't move. I think the alcohol was a way for me to slowly kill myself, but here was the perfect opportunity to finish the job. And my mind was hazy, and I thought that getting run over was exactly what I wanted. But then the train got closer and closer, and I hesitated. Was this really how my life was gonna end? Having achieved nothing, dying alone on some fucking train tracks? I had wanted to go back to my middle school self so bad, but would he have liked how I turned out? The train was a couple miles away when I hopped off the tracks, I was still so close my beanie flew off by the gust it generated from passing me. But I was alive, and had reached a moment of clarity. I didn't want to revert back to my middle school self. I want to become a man my middle school self is proud to grow up into. A man whose family and friends still care for him, and is still dating the girl of his dreams. So I checked myself into rehab, determined to change my mindset and ways."

He lets out a heavy sigh, and you pat him reassuringly on the back. He continues.

"I got out a couple weeks ago, and my first thought was to reunite with Wendy. She was the one who always had faith that I could recover, and with her by my side I would be able to get a job, reconnect with my friends, conquer anything. But I needed to know how she felt about me now, and when I found out that you were her roommate, I figured you were the one to talk to."

"But why not just ask me to help you? Why'd you ask me out on a date instead?"

"To be honest, I just thought it would be the quickest way to get your attention. Sorry for the way I acted on it by the way. I swear I'm a much more interesting guy to be around, but I was so worried about how'd you react to what I was gonna ask you that I guess I was kind of rude. My bad. But now that you've heard me out, you'll help and re-introduce me to her, right?"

You're in front of your apartment building now, and Stan's looking at you expectedly. You don't know what to think about everything he’s just told you, and him staring at you with puppy dog eyes isn't helping. You turn your back to him, and try to recollect your thoughts. He seems genuinely sorry about how he treated Wendy in the past, but does that mean he's changed?

You wheel around and look straight into his eyes as you say your next words.

"'Оkау.”

His face breaks out into a massive smile, but you hold up one finger indicating that you're not done.

"I'II help, under some conditions. And you're not meeting her until all these conditions have either been completed or agreed to. 1. You clean yourself up, both mentally and physically." You look him up and down, and raise an eyebrow.

"Mainly physically. Get some better clothes, clean up that scruff you call a beard sitting on your face, etc. 2. You get a job. Wendy deserves a guy who's stable, both mentally and financially. And 3. If you meet her again and she wants nothing to do with you, you suck it up and move on with your life. No weird stalking, no setting up a date with another one of her friends, nothing. Until then though, I'll help you get your life together. We can meet up tomorrow, when you should've already completed condition 1, and we can work on condition 2. Here's my number, don't abuse it."

You stick your hand out for his phone, and type your number into it. He takes it back and has a small smile on his face.

"Thanks. For everything. Even the small possibility of seeing her again makes my heart feel whole."

You let out a matching small smile. He does seem like a really sweet guy, and you can only hope he's serious about changing.

"I'll text you tomorrow when and where to meet up. Goodnight Stan."

And with that, you leave him standing on the street, and wonder what the hell you're gonna tell Wendy.

…

You decide to not tell Wendy about your date with Stan. You’ll find out how she feels about him as per Stan's request, but there's no reason for that to happen tonight. You walk into your room and practically collapse on your bed. Everything about today drained you, and the urge to sleep it all away is getting stronger and stronger. But before your droopy eyes fully close, your phone vibrates twice from an unknown texter. Assuming it's Stan, you breathe a heavy sigh. So much for the 'don't abuse it’ rule that came with your number. But you sit up straight when you actually read what it says.

Unknown Number - Hey Y/N, it's Kyle

Unknown Number - I just wanted to make sure you got home safe. So text me when you do.

You can't stop your face from smiling. You save his number into your phone and reply back.

Y/N - i came home a couple minutes ago, thanks for checking in ♡

Kyle ♡ - How'd it go?

Kyle ♡ - The date, I mean

You try not to read into why he cares about that. Probably just trying to make conversation, right?

Y/N - It wasn't what I anticipated, but the guy seems pretty nice so we're gonna meet up again tomorrow.

He leaves you on read for a while, only replying back five minutes later with a curt:

Kyle ♡ - Nice to hear. Goodnight Y/N.

He doesn't say anything else, leaving you to wonder what the hell you did wrong.

[annyankers]

hi train! you're sucking me back into your lore too (it's soooo good and i'm invested) so tell me more about your version of darla?

dkfghkls Sorry this took a bit to get to I've been in the Pit with some other stuff that kept making me forget this was in my inbox rip

LET'S TALK DARLAAAAAAAAAAA [AIR HORNS]

Darla My Beloved, My One, My Only. My changes to Darla are honestly super minimal on like, a base level. I love Julie in the role and I think she builds a truly Iconic Character.

Mainly my thing is that it's Fucking Dumb And Stupid that she dies. In one s6 btvs/ats crossover/combination fanfic I swear to the GODS I'll finish plotting and writing I use an oc to help make sure she survives the pregnancy but honestly I don't care how you do it. She Just Does.

I like to keep Connor and her pregnancy because I think it creates a really interesting and unique conflict for Darla that plays well with her utterly heartless and self-centered character. Sharing Connor's soul is the second brush she's had having with one in under a year after 400 years without one. That's super duper fun and interesting to work with. It's fun to have her be conflicted about still being a heartless bitch and maybe caring for at least 1 (one) person just on the principle that they're helpless and cannot survive without someone who cares.

I don't really like the idea of "motherhood makes her better" because that's uhhhhh.... that can be ummm....... but I think there's something to be said for "jerkoff takes some responsibility for her actions and the lives of others". At the end of the day, Darla is still a vampire and still soulless but now she's got some Complex Feelings about stuff and also things. She's more in the Spike Zone of soullessness and how to deal with it in the face of doing shit like giving a fuck about people compared to Angel's whole vibe about the topic or the Master's -- which is her previous stance.

Connor is Her Baby, he's an extension of Her which is important to the douchey narcissist in her. Even after some brushes with having a soul I don't think she'd even CONSIDER a change of heart or just an adjustment to her lifestyle for anyone who's not somehow "Hers". Darla is about Darla before she's about anyone or anything else. Connor being From Her forcibly extends her circle of Self Interest and cracks open the Padora's Box of Possibly Giving A Shit About Others.

The things she felt while she shared his soul also have a big impact on her, she does care about him and his well being. Her stance on the rest of humanity's wellbeing? Less concerned lol. She's not interested necessarily in ~becoming a better person~ but she DOES realize she has to make some change, some life choices, and get better at covering some shit up because Connor WILL look to her as a role model as he grows up and she'd like to minimize the damage she does to him lol. Also recognizes she needs to make some lifestyle changes so that she's got more than just Drusilla helping her raise and protect Connor or WORST SCENARIO IF SHE DOESN'T-- have that asshole Angel STEAL HER SON FROM HER AND DENY HER ACCESS because she's "A Psychotic Heartless Murderer" or whatever dumb shit he's wanking about now. Loser.

She's TRULY the Vegeta or the Hiei she IS the Regina George and you DO have to bribe her into helping. She's a barely domesticated villain she's only here because all these numb nut goody two shoes can't muster up the spine to say no when she asks them to babysit. She and Spike actually end up having much more familial relationship because they're both working through all this Weird Shit about being vampires with no soul who're also grappling with doing weak ass pansy nice guy shit like losers but also it's weirdly fulfilling??? tf???? Since when tf did they like kids-- and not just as dinner??? what happened here???

She's fond of Cordelia because she's Mean, they bully Angel for sport. She and Buffy probably end up with a weird chilled out vibe eventually as two very sexy narrative foils of each other. Shadow selves Baybee. Darla and Anya would be ride or die let's just be real about that they're both unhinged. Illyria is the only person Darla is afraid of lol. Darla and Angel have the most CURSED on and off again sex relationship that torments everyone around them.

Basically Darla is the Cassandra Truth in a lot of ways for ATS. She's the Greek Chorus pointing out all the flaws and issues with Angel's dumbass plans and how X is a trap and OBVIOUSLY So-And-So is upset you ninny. She doesn't listen any of them she's the oldest person in the room she's not taking orders from CHILDREN. Angel is 100000x more competent with her around, it's almost like she was always the brains of the operation lol. Basically she and Drusilla are the muppet critics who're also raising a baby and sometimes help fight crime but only because if they don't they'll have to pay rent.

[knowlessman]

it finally crossed my mind to watch this at the magic hour of fifteen minutes past midnight again so here we go (bnha s6e1-6)

oh yeah, libertaria happened; Mosquito from Soul Eater got his entire city's ass handed to him by pajama sam. and I think hawks fucking killed best jeanist to keep his double agent cover intact. I forget whether Endeavor is in the hospital atm or what, if I didn't know any better I'd swear the bit with the smart nomu was two entire seasons ago -- OH FUCK, AND SLENDERVOID TURNED OUT TO BE AN OLD STUDENT FROM UA. there was a whole thing with him and eraser head and present mic

oh boy, and Chapped Komaeda's quirk leveled up too apparently

new OP to go with the new season? I thought this didn't happen with anime. …I miss Carousel 'XD

oh yeah, and Twice unlocked the ability to use his power on himself freely too.

ah, we're finally learning more about Robotnik

"of course, he does have a quirk, it just wasn't in the records" dangit, show keeps dodging opportunities to have quirkless characters in important roles (and have them, y'know, stay quirkless). I don't know for a fact that the detective guy doesn't have one, but assuming he doesn't, he's like the only one. Hell, even that quirkless-centered faction in that movie had no quirkless members who even had faces, much less names; cept maybe that one nameless police chief guy

(outro showing deku and tomura standing across from each other) gawd I hope these two don't get to have a conversation, deku's gonna piss me off so bad

oh no, she killed the ugly platypus

… no yeah I officially miss Carousel. I should go find the other intros and listen to them again, I'm sure there must've been at least one that I liked more than Carousel and just didn't remember the name of (speaking of which, I'm like 50/50 on whether it's Carousel or Merry-Go-Round)

"in all, we only have five High End nomus, including Woman" really? …is her quirk having hair

Mirko goes pretty damn hard, huh

heh. Pichu has Lightning Rod, then. Kinda doubt this means he's worked past that recoil tho. (misc, ngl that amplivolt guy is kinda hot. lights his cigarette with his sparks. not quite the absolute legend that Dilf Legoshi (Chimera from the second movie) is, but still, not bad)

'XD poor Twice is just racking up the L's when it comes to introducing new friends

"Dark Shadow! Ragnarok!" pfft, calling him by his government name now, eh? 'XD

…wait hawks is a fucking child soldier? what the fuck

"no! mewtwo's not ready yet! he can't be taken out of the machine until it beeps!"

danganronpa 4's looking legit

you're not gonna get very far in tetris with a setup like this, not unless you've got some ungodly T-spins

you had ONE JOB, dollar-tree cyclops. one job. "take care of shigaraki." your dumb ass didn't even take him out of the goop, you just HAD to shoot the bad guy machine with your dinky eye laser before doing anything else so it'd spark up and defibrillate him, even though that probably shouldn't have done anything because HIS HEART WAS ALREADY STOPPED

-- (defibrillators don't start your heart, they force it to stop so that your body freaks out and starts over trying to pump it in a proper rhythm. or something like that anyway, lol I got a D in survey of anatomy and learned from tv tropes that writers have been repeating misinformation about zappy shock pads for ages)

(cyclops got jean-gray'd, probably, I don't know x-men) yooo, tomura takin this dipshit's cape and making it his new wardrobe like Liliana taking that angel's hairpiece, I dig it -- or xykon taking that one guy's crown ig. …okay not that xykon isn't a cool villain but I think I just stopped being impressed by this trope

o_o tokoyami you're even weaker to fire than hawks is (probably), the fuck you think you're doing here? -- "this hero friend of yours killed an enemy" okay here's a take: hawks's subplot and entire deal, even his backstory, is in the wrong genre. that's kind of it. spies do this shit, and even kill their own allies, all the time in intrigue stories. it doesn't stop it from being dark af, but their genre is all about necessary evils (albeit, those evils are often only "necessary" for the purposes of their countries', or worse, governments', interests). this is a kids' show. …fine, a teenagers' show. this isn't where those themes generally show up. -- "those pros you admire so much play dirtier than guys like me" also dabi is talking out of his ass here but I feel like that's pretty obvious, he's just trying to demoralize tokoyami and company

'''XD fuckin A! a shitload of ice explodes out and knocks toko and hawks free of dabi, and it wasn't todoroki??? it was just some named rando villain with ice powers? I think I vaguely remember him from when pajama boy took over, but I could swear I recall him getting completely thrashed last time -- "I know you did what was right, hawks!" aw 'XD you kinda can't avoid meeting your heroes in this show. such a shame

oh dammit, and now bigfoot's woken up -- OH TOMURA'S HIS MASTER NOW? FUCK 'XD

just realized something. I don't think we've seen deku yet this whole five episodes. …oh wait, no yeah he and the others showed up way at the beginning, they're in the back ranks and out of the fighting. …author get bored of them? 'XD -- oh, speak of the devils

oh shit, the avatar spirits are sensing whatshisfuck waking up. …there was raava, I think, was the blue one. the hell was the red one called? think it also might've started with an R. ryukyu? probably not. rakdos, idfk 'XD

ayyyup. boomboom levels are approaching the lower end of the DBZ scale

okay this OP is wayyy too chill and upbeat for this arc 'XD

(toga's on the move) spah stabbin mah heroes

"it's like I've had them since I was born" ayyyyup, papa's got a brand new bag of tricks to back up his signature moves

"where are you going?" deku: "uh, I forgot something!" yeah sure, you left the stove on in the hospital that looks like piccolo threw a tantrum on it -- "following you? what, you think you're the main character now?" …gawd bakugo is annoying. catch up, mr verbal-abuse-is-my-only-language -- "you're the bait" HAHAHAHAHAHAHA get dusted, ya swaglesss vegeta knockoff

0_0 RYUKYU'S DEAD HE TOUCHED HER. …oh wait, hat n clogs is on the scene. it's a fight. hot damn, but what tricks are chapped komaeda packing now that hat n clogs can't turn off? -- …(finally looks up the bleach character I keep associating aizawa with) …wait this guy's blond. he doesn't even have black hair. …why do I think Aizawa looks like him? even their personalities are completely different, so it's not that

gran torino: "bakugo knows about one for all, right?" yeah, I don't know why they trust him with it either

…goddammit, that was six episodes, I don't WANNA keep going, I should try to sleep! 'XD eh, I'll try to make that gif and post these later (there was a split second where I'm pretty sure an indistinct figure during one of the crowd fighting shots was breakdancing, but fuck it nvm)

[soo-won]

Hi Al! I'm not sure I have much positivity to share exactly but I still want to try to like? maybe give another kind of perspective that helps process things with more peace and acceptance?

very long post under the cut sorry..., but there is too much to say about Yona and the themes of the story!

To begin with, I don't think this scene says anything more than what we already discussed at length after chapter 257, it only confirms it even more, but this is really a time paradox huh. Hiryuu considered stopping things in his time, Hiryuu didn't throw his sword away, Hiryuu could have done everything Yona has done now too. But he didn't, because Yona was there and told him not to. Like...I don't think Hiryuu literally made Yona exists when wishing to live longer, she had to already be existing in the future for it to happen, so it's more that their soul connected through time and space in the one moment their heart called for the same. It doesn't make sense logically in term of timeline and cause/consequence because we deal with the divine and souls I'd say.

But I don't think Hiryuu had trouble reconciling with loss really? Yona definitely does, but Hiryuu wasn't really trying to like reunite with the dragons again himself. He left that to Yona. What caused him anguish is the idea of dying before freeing the dragons and especially Zeno. His wish to live longer is not so different from Suwon's, it's out of not wanting to leave things unaccomplished. To me what the gods say in chapter 264 imply that first of all they let the dragon warriors go on even having no idea whether Hiryuu would come back at all and when, and also that even if he did come back to them, they would have still not put an end to it because they just don't care. Like without Yona asking like she did they would have let the dragons die and be born again and kept Zeno immortal too. Even now I'm still not convinced they made Zeno mortal again, like isn't that something only the dragon in his blood can decide? And we've only seen 3 dragon gods out of 4 in ch264 so hm. However Hiryuu the individual is very much over and I think he was aware of it and accepted it. Again I swear I can't tell if Hiryuu realized Yona was from 2000 years in his future, but whatever he thought, he accepted to let her deal with everything after him and it means exactly that, we're after him. Hiryuu the person is no more. It is only speculations, but if Hiryuu decided to not return to heavens even after death, I'd say it's because as a soul without any vessel he maybe wouldn't have had any mean of action? But honestly what would have happened to Hiryuu's soul is complete mystery so I just don't know tbh, it's something that feels a bit pointless to theorize over for now.

But this chapter also implies Yona didn't really process in ch257 that what she was doing is dooming 2000 years of generations of dragons. She was in the middle of a quest to retrieve her friends, in that quest she was brought in that past where she stopped them from being completely erased from existence as they are now, and then chased after them again with a new resolve. Yona has a very finite goal in this arc: she wants to see her friends again. She wants to save them. She doesn't think about saving the world at all right now. That glimpse into the past was only that to her, her present is what drives her. It's not that she really doesn't care about the dragons' sufferings, it's that from her POV, it already all happened and she wants to make things different now. She had the power to make things different before we agree, but what she's doing now is trying to argue that she doesn't want the gods nor Hiryuu/her to have that power at all over the dragons or anyone to begin with. She throws away the sword, symbol of power over life and death, the one that has been teased since the prologue of the story that we thought was a flashforward to the ending...And Yona rejects it all. She's not being Hiryuu at all here I think. She's fully Yona. She's not some hero trying to restore the world from darkness like a hero of legend, she only follows her heart, and it's Suwon having that goal right now. She's not a King descending from the Heavens to make or protect a country like Hiryuu, the only thing Yona has ever done and is doing here is trying to help the people that she knows are in need, and here especially because she knows only her can do it. Of course, as the chagol arc developed she can see beyond her circle of close friends and she wants to find a way to end wars too etc...But the way she goes at everything is the same. In this chapter she realizes that she really made the dragons wait forever and all that suffering has to end here and now. She says it, she can't let them suffer any longer.

And in a way it's a nice twist to what the narrative hinted at until now. Many in the past (in universe and among us readers) thought that Yona is here now to save the whole country from some kind of "darkness" like Hiryuu in his time (supposedly), but that's not it. Sure, Yona did influence, change and help many people in her journey for real, but she finally found the meaning of her existence as Hiryuu's reincarnation: like Taejun said long ago, it is far more humbler or what we can call "selfish". The meaning of being reborn with the red dragon's soul is to save the dragons, not the world. The world doesn't need the gods after all, it needs the power of people. And driven all along by that simple prayer without even being aware of it, she indirectly moved and inspired others to protect the country and its people themselves. This is a bit different from Hiryuu too. Maybe he had similar feelings, but he failed to accomplish any of that in the end. He made the people depend on him, he saved them, but once he died they were lost and could not find the will and power to do anything but to cling on his symbol and depend on the skies again. In the end, he couldn't truly save and protect anyone in a lasting way. He himself points it out in Zeno's flashback arc actually: No matter what he does, war never ends. Maybe by then he had realized that his existence on Earth is actually pretty pointless and meaningless, that he can't give humans eternal peace. That it was arrogant of him to think he could just come and do that.

So I agree with you on this, and the story hasn't adressed this, but...Hiryuu loved humans I truly think so, but he still went at it like a god. Like? He became their King. He led people to wars. He was still very much above them. He accepted everything that made him special in the human world, he chose for them, then died and left everything behind. He should have died if not for the sword the Gods gave him and the Dragon Warriors. (By the way, the fact they didn't let him be killed is interesting? Like Hiryuu dying technically should made him come back to them sooner, yet they went out of their way to protect him like they did. Curious.) This wasn't explored at all for now but honestly I'm not surprised since Hiryuu was still new at this whole humanity thing wasn't he? That'd make sense to me that he either felt pressure to still be a special existence as a human and/or that he didn't know any other way to "help" them. He's more human than the other gods that hate anyone against them and love anyone worshipping them, but loving every humans whether they betray him or not without any conflict (as far as we know, like, we've never seen him be upset, have we?) is still pretty arrogant of Hiryuu. Yona is different because she was born human. She doesn't love and feel for everyone unconditionally and by nature. She hates and feels upset by others, she feels conflicted, she has to make the active effort to learn and understand others better, even those she doesn't like. Like what Hak said about Suwon (which was pretty unaccurate), loving everyone is the same as loving no one. Hiryuu surely developed deeper, more genuine feelings for the dragons (and I'd hope his wife and children too?), but it was already too late.

Another point is I believe what Suwon and Hak discuss in chapter 262 can apply here too. Suwon and Hak have no power to actually redo anything over, so when they talk about it it's only as a what if scenario, but the conclusion is that rather than changing or "correcting" the past by receving punishment, Suwon should rather find a better way next time in their life /now/, moving forward. And I fully agree with that. First because he didn't do anything wrong he should regret <3 But also because admitting that the way things happened was painful to him and Yona and Hak and that's the real tragedy of that night, then yeah, I want to wish for a way for Suwon to accomplish his ambitions without having to discard his feelings too.

But even if they had the power to go back in time and despite being fully aware of the suffering he caused to some, Suwon has no regrets, and yeah of course he doesn't! I wouldn't want him to! That'd be like rejecting all he accomplished and lived for and the people he helped and saved and worked with etc etc...It might have been painful and unfair at times but that's the only life he has. He wouldn't change a thing but he can grow and learn and use his past experiences to do better. So...I feel like the story applies that same logic to Yona and the dragons. Accepting to let Hiryuu put an end to the dragon warriors in the past is like accepting to reject all her life since she met them if not before, and the time she lived with them, and what they felt and accomplished together, and how she changed and could learn to stand on her own thanks to their help etc...They mean all that to her. And no matter how miserable the lives of the previous dragons were, it doesn't feel right to erase that completely either, right? They didn't deserve any of that but erasing this history and these existences doesn't do them justice imo. If there was a way to make all the past generations have fulfilling happy life without sacrificing the present that'd be amazing but then it'd feel like nothing truly matters too. Admitting we could ask for the present dragons' opinion, Zeno aside, I'd be surprised if they said they want that too. They're characters that /would be made/ to think that, sure, but that wouldn't be out of character, would it? The fact Yona decides for them still is a problem, that's true, but that's different from saying Yona made the wrong choice. As we discussed it's indeed also hard to not see things from the POV of the past, from Zeno's POV, from the hundreds of dragons who waited and suffered all their life in vain. But we're in a time paradox and we can only turn in circle about this like. Yeah that's terrible for all the dragons of the past and Zeno, but the other choice would likewise be terrible for the present dragons and everyone now, but then again it's terrible for the past dragons...etc etc...there's no end to it.

What actually bothers me more in this chapter is how easily Yona chooses to put an end to the dragons' powers in their stead. Like, the one thing people blamed Zeno for was how he took away their agency, but Yona does very much that again here. Sure it's kinda the only way to possibly free them AND keep them alive, and it's really a case of "what Yona thinks shouldn't matter bc it should be about what /they/ think, but alas to the gods Yona's opinion matters more so that's how it is" but that still leaves a bad taste in my mouth that it will supposedly be resolved like that for them. I wish things were executed in a way that showed them consent to it? like regaining some consciousness or being able to communicate with her in some way? or even hint at wishing for something of the like before? I...don't have any hope they will resent Yona for it at all since they'd probably be made more busy worrying for her next etc but I can only pray the story will dare to take some little time for them to process the loss of their powers and what does that make them now, and what can they do to help from now on etc. But wait and see.

So to me the core of the problem is not Yona's decision, it's Yona's writing overall. What we yearn for is Yona to be challenged in her beliefs. To be wrong. To fail. To be held accountables for her mistakes and grow from them. For the story to truly own the ways Yona is indeed not perfect, instead of making her not perfect but still framing it like she is. To me the solution to this isn't for her to kill Zeno with that sword or anything of the like at all. I want Yona to be wrong but not about everything and not about her feeling everyone deserves a better ending. I want akayona to reach its happy ending, I want Zeno to either be able to die happy with no such tragic conditions or either to be allowed to live a normal human lifespan from now on, I want the dragons to live as normal humans, I want the Hiryuu descendants to be saved and live long life too. But I want to see Yona struggle to achieve these. And by struggle I don't mean just the story throwing things at her that she has no responsibility over, I mean...doubting herself, falling, failing, correcting herself, learning from others and her own mistakes and not only the ones she made before the coup.

But akayona has carried this flaw since the end of the Awa arc lowkey, the spotlight is never on Yona admiring and learning from others (but Hak I guess...), it's always others admiring her and learning from her. Truthfully, I don't think that's true, and definitely she learns from others like Kouren, Meinyan, Suwon, Keishuk even lol but that's only something you can infer from what happens, whereas what is highlighted is always how admirable, noble and good and loved she is. I don't think this was much a problem before the Xing arc, as what happened in the Fire/Water tribe arcs compensated the beginning of this terrible trend for Yona's writing, but I'd say starting Xing (which I still believe is an arc with excellent character moments), every villain/antagonist only existed so Yona and the character she had more "complex" and interesting interactions with and that challenged her, could work together against a common enemy and resolve the lazy way all conflicts that existed between them. Like,, Gobi was just that for Yona and Kouren to me. Then Chagol for Yona and Meinyan (even if admittedly Chagol had more going on than Gobi lol), and now the gods for Yona and Zeno. If you zoom in, it's not just that, and I believe there is still good to be taken from how things turned out but...overall I don't think this serves Yona's character development in a way I'd find really meaningful. I assume it's this way exactly to convey the idea that all these characters are all driven by the will to protect something, and in different circumstances (like against a stupid common enemy) they realize they're not so different and are not "bad" people but I can't help but feel unsatisfied with how things are resolved everytime. She grows still but it's just like...she gains more experience and knowledge. There's nothing to resolve. It's not inherently a bad thing but it fails to move me like it did at the beginning and imo it can be a burden for the story akayona is telling.

Like I said, her goal in this arc is to save her friends but...there's nothing special or novel in that. This happened many times before. Of course she's going to save her friends. Like she always did. I fail to see anything meaningful in the new things Yona say or do now because I'm just "yeah that's nice, but it's not like she struggled with that before"(before meaning everything after the awa arc). It's so hard to feel it for me, because it feels like a given. And for a final arc I find this anticlimatic. Even now, I did want for Yona to be stuck in Heavens with the gods, but I hoped it would be a bit more the result of her own flaws than the gods 100% forcing her and her simply not realizing this would happen I guess? In a way you could call the current development a struggle, but you know, we have never seen Yona struggling defying the gods before like. She always confronted people with higher authority and/or more power than her. Kumji, Hiyou, Chagol. Sure these people have more and more power and she got hurt confronting them but it's not like Yona emotionally struggled against them the way she did with Suwon in the past, where you can clearly see her progress everytime she faces him and the people around him again. The only other place I see real progress is in her relationship with Hak like how she can more easily says she loves him now, or being able to protect him like she always wanted etc. Which is a shame because the development of these two (and more especially Hak I painfully have to admit) can actually be seen through their interactions with far more characters.

So now this is the part I make it a bit about Suwon I'm sorry... Because I can't agree with what I've read in the notes of your post about him. You did not say these things yourself but I still want to give my two cents on this as someone that loves him and often feels upset for him because of what akayona throws at him.

Things changed, god knows how much I hated it in the castle and chagol arcs pretty much for the reasons i listed just above, but despite everything I truly believe Suwon's very existence will always challenge Yona (just like she challenges his) and that it still does now. That again Suwon highlights Yona's emotional development well too (again, it's mutual). And that at least with him, nothing is resolved easily. Unlike with other characters, there was never anything more challenging for them but to work together against a common enemy. Being kinda stuck together in the Chagol arc only made things infinitely more complicated and painful and conflictual than they already were. The way it presented it was disconcerting to say the least, and I almost dropped akayona for real from it, but with them it never was as easy as "oh this person saved/helped me now I love them and I will do anything to help in return!", like, from both sides. And it's because even after chapter 221/224 and the Chagol arc I could tell Suwon would not simply end like Kouren or Meinyan or anyone Yona helped before in the narrative that I finally started to breathe slightly more easily. It can be similar in some ways, but I still see a lot more nuances with him than previous examples. And it's still not fully resolved between them. And Yona and Hak had to change their stance irt Suwon and the people around him continuously from the beginning to now too. (Yona moved me the most recently when she found Hyuri in this dark alleyway when she was in the middle of running after Zeno, stopped and sat at his level, and could talk about Suwon from the past like the child he was like no one did before, and that she could see Hyuri not as a crazy violent murderer like Hak and Mundok did in that same chapter, but the man watching over Suwon and protecting him, someone that Suwon needs by his side. That she can say she wants Suwon to live, and this time it doesnt feel like it's only about "dying selfishly on her" but simply the feeling of wanting him to be there, even if not part of her life, and that she could be grateful to Hyuri and thank him for protecting her friends...that's all immensely meaningful imo! Even if nghh Hyuri's monologue in response is siighhh...come on. (gestures) akayona.)

It's so damn slow with them, and Hak is still angry and will always have grips even if they reached a point they can help each other more honestly now, and Yona will never forgive Suwon, and Suwon will never regret what he did nor apologize for it. And Suwon still carries his own convictions and ideology that to this day still go at odds with Yona and Hak. I'm not saying Suwon is immune to akayona's problems at all, I'm painfully aware he isn't, but I still believe his existence in the story now has a lot of meaning and brings a lot of nuance and food to ponder more about everything else. And it's not a bad thing that Suwon accepts them more like...that feels like the natural progression. Of course they wouldn't always stay super distant and confrontional and they would slowly work together closer and closer as they all influence each other, grow, and understand each other better. We as readers might want for Suwon to forever act like Yona and Hak aren't special and important because yeah it's cathartic but...Suwon has never been like that. They were always special to him, from chapter 1. Suwon is his own character, not just a proxy for people tired of (gestures) the AnY narrative that makes everything about Yona and Hak. The same way the shadows can't accept how things changed and force Suwon to be what he's not. Of course, it doesn't change how irritating it is that yeah everyone sides with YonaHak eventually and tend to prioritize them over what they cared about before or themselves, like they're pawns more than characters, and of course Suwon isn't real and was purposely written this way and recently I feel so pained because I so wish it let other characters play a role in his development...but I'd say that tbh if Yona and Hak have to be special to someone I'm fine if it's Suwon. The way he chose the country over them is still so meaningful and admirable. Yona herself said she understood, Hak recently acknowledged that fact even if he could never do it himself. But it's at the same time true that it hurt him to kill his own feelings because of this ideology, and even more so if that makes him accept death so easily. Readers might do that at lot, but I genuinely dont think the manga actually judges if Suwon was right or wrong. It's not about that. It focuses on the characters' conflicting feelings in changing circumstances. As much as I think akayona has a problem with the way it frames things, Suwon's side included, it paradoxically still let a lot of nuances be. It often resolves things in a lazy, infuriating stupid way, yet it's not as bad it feels like either? If it makes sense. Once again it's not like Suwon throws away all his convictions for them! And that's part of the still on going tension and conflict! The execution stings half of the time I can't pretend otherwise but... No matter what I don't want to close my eyes to what is definitely there I guess.

Also, the fate of Hiryuu descendants weren't mentioned at all yet. I don't think it's a problem I think it will be adressed when the time comes. I don't want to wish on a star but my two cents now are: Yona freed the dragons from what tied them to the divine, and she pretty much used her divine authority to do so, but she didn't realize how herself is bound to the divine and probably needs to cut that tie as well. And I suspect that if there is a way for Yona to lose all connection to Hiryuu and be saved, then it will be the exact same key to free Hiryuu's descendants. And Suwon is on his way to the mausoleum, and Suwon famously hates Hiryuu and sees him as useless...Like if there's someone that is damn annoyed whenever Yona is perceived and treated like Hiryuu and by the crimson illness it's Suwon, so...wait and see... I'm sure Hak will have some major role as well but I don't like much when Hak has a role I don't really care about that for now, but recently I appreciate the way he's written so! (Like...flawed and struggling and having inner conflicts that he grows from and stuff...give that back to yona omfg).

In the end I think Yona's character is still meaningful in many ways. She doesn't move me like before, and it's painful to think she is not written like I'd want her to, in a way I can connect with again, but she is amazing to analyze and break down like that and she is the root of many fascinating questions. Like yes that's cool the narrative revolves around the feelings and experience of this girl in a male dominated world, i like the different layers of her identity as a normal girl, a princess and god reincarnated, it's cool it's about her gaining agency and power and that the male characters are here to support her, it's cool she hates that it's at the price of others losing that agency and she wants everyone to be there and free. It's beautiful that she always feels so grateful of people for helping her and hugs them and thanks them everytime. It's amazing that she's the kind of character to never give up, but also acknowledges she wouldn't have been able to without people being here for her first. I like how she cares for people, the "discarded" ones like she does. How even if she's ignorant and doesn't understand everyone's feelings and experience at first, she constantly tries to. I love that when meeting Zeno, believing that he had no power that could "protect" her like the others, she was glad to meet him only for his warmth and because she felt happy with him. I'm glad when she told Kija, that was always convinced he was born to protect Hiryuu, that she wants him with her even now that he feels like a burden. That she told them that them dying like that because it's their fate and duty is not okay again and upsets her, that she's grateful for Kija just being there even if he can't fight. I like that she wants to break all cycles and refuses the unfair destiny imposed to the people around her. She loves her friends, she loves people, despite the way she can be inconsiderate/insensitive/unfair too, which is important to point out of course. It's because it's not black and white that it's so hard.

There are countless things to say about her and she is more than either the perfect badass 10/10 queen everyone praise no matter what she does or the terrible person that doesn't truly care about anyone but herself and treats everyone like shit. I don't think she's shallow like that, one way or another. I do think the way people despict her in fandom space often is though, but I'm not interested in that Yona at all. I love how she stays so true to her feelings no matter what, I love that selfishness of her in the good and bad. I don't agree and I don't like when she says Suwon is selfish in chapter 252, but I don't mind that she, Yona with her very unique and personal experience and story, thinks that. Akatsuki no Yona is about people's heart and feelings clashing with reason and objectivity, and through Yona it chooses to show us things we can only see from her side of things. Yona herself is struggling with that. She wants to help her people as Kouka's princess, but she feels conflicted between her duties as a princess and wanting to save her friends. It felt easy to resolve it by Suwon avoiding her the struggle longer and just letting her do what she wants, but I think it did it this way precisely because the manga doesn't want to preach about what would be "right" here. There is no answer. There are only people doing their best to tweak things to find compromises. Suwon gave her the opportunity to follow her heart because "objectively it's better if it's yona dealing with this", and Yona uses it fully. Yet she still intends to come back too. A compromise again.

So what always bothered me is not Yona herself but how everything surrounding her is framed. Likee the narrative makes a ton about her when I don't think it's needed at all and kinda goes against the point. That it sides with her is definitely intended and meaningful in its own right, but I thought it was doing it much better before and I prefered when it was humbler about her and I felt like it was siding with more POV and characters but her (and Hak). So...she's not that protagonist I identify myself much with anymore (and the story itself kinda makes yona and hak's development something that we can only be a witness of outside of their head now, rather than following all the thought processes that make them grow from inside and their POV) but no matter how you process your feelings for akatsuki no yona in the end, keep being disillusioned, it's good! Keep being disillusioned about her and akayona as a whole again and again, and be disillusioned of your previous disillusions because that's the way to see it truly for what it is the most. Nothing erase the way akayona and yona's character are flawed, so there is no need to erase what is definitely there and good about it. Take all the good and bad and how they coexist. I just find it painful to hate everything so much that it makes doubt everything and blind to what is simply there so I don't want it to happen to you :').

Akayona is a mess like that, it's terribly flawed but it's also good in so many aspects and that's what makes it so damn complicated and frustrating! But also extremely interesting, and I think it's possible to appreciate it this way. So best wishes to you Al!! I love your akatsuki no yona writings and I'll be sad to see you stop and fall into that painful spiral, but it's also fine to take distances or drop it completely depending on what feels the best for you. I'll always love to discuss about all of this with you if you want!!

Critique ahead, read at your own discretion.

Am I understanding this correctly? Because of Hiryuu’s selfish wish to have more time on Earth, Yona was created, thus their soul did not return to the heavens to be with the other dragon gods. As a consequence hundreds of humans were damned with the dragon powers and short lifespans. If Hiryuu had accepted his own death as a natural course of life as a human and went back to the heavens then all of this could’ve been avoided. But it seems both he and Yona have trouble reconciling with loss. They’d curse strangers if it meant having more time with their loved ones. How is this not viewed as corrupt? Their resolve is painted as this heartwarming thing - that they’d bend reality if it led to the safety of those they care about. But what about everyone else? The world isn’t comprised only of those dear to your heart. They say Hiryuu loved humans but the more I examine his actions it seems he simply wanted control over them.

I want to love this manga, I have loved this manga, for many years. It was amazing seeing Yona’s growth and getting to know all the characters. Soo-Won, Shin-Ah, Zeno, and (earlier chapters) Yona will always have a special place in my heart. But the way the themes are being developed leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Idk, if anyone has some positivity to share about how things are progressing please feel free to do so, because at this point I’m disillusioned with YOTD.

[yichimi]

Hi <3 i will like to request like- how would the dorm (or just Azul, Vil, Kalim and Leona(Andjustifyouwant Ace and Deuce but it's not important at all)) will react if you said with an angry face "I know what you did" and insist until the character confess something, it could be anything but something, and don't worry, English it's not my first leanguaje as well, feel free to take your time or decline <3!

✨Thank you for your request and patience✨

"i know what you did" - with Deuce, Ace, Leona, Azul, Kalim and Vil

DEUCE SPADE:

Stares at you along time

He really tryst to remember what he could've done

He started to get so nervous about it and also started to make things up in his mind

Situations that never happened but he now believes are real

That's how nervous he is-

"Was it that bad?"

You jokingly nod trying to stay serious and then he lost it

"Whatever it was! I'm so sorry please let me make it up!"

And then he kinda continues about date ideas or buying you sweets and stuff just to apologize (for something that never happened)

In the end when you told him everything he was more than relieved but also said you should never prank him like this again because it fluffing damn gave him a Heartattack-

ACE TRAPOLLA:

he knows he does shit

And he's done a lot of it too

But recently he didn't do anything! At least HE thought he didn't

Then you stood up the morning and chose violence-

"I know what you did" you said trying to keep a straight face

"EH?!"

Thinks real hard but can't find anything in his memory that could've made you mad-because he apologizes always afterwards if you were involved

"I-I don't know-i really don't know! Was it because i ate your yogurt 3 weeks ago??? Did you found out now?"

Well the yogurt was new but-no it isn't something to he mad about really

You told him the truth and now he's mad at you-like how dare you scare him like that

But hands down, that was awesome!

Good job he's proud of you

But don't you dare ever do THAT again ON HIM

LEONA KINGDSCHOLAR:

well the only thing he really does is sleep when you two actually had a date or he was a bit way to honest with you

But you already are used to that

You still wanna pay him back so

Why not like this?

He just woke up 5 seconds ago because you threw a pillow right in his face and you said, "I know what you did"

He's thinking the best he can in a situation he just woke up-

Didn't really work

"what are you even fucking talking about?"

Fully believes he's innocent, which he is

But actually also has a clean mind-

After you told him the truth he ready-

You're standing beside his bed and he will grab you and use you now as a pillow if you want it or not

You gonna lay there for hours

"so troublesome, but i still love you"

AZUL ASHENGROTTO:

well-panic attack-

Was he not spending enough time with you?

Don't you like his presents???

DO YOU FEEL LIKE HE DOESN'T LOVES YOU?? Because he really does-

The angry look on your Face-Damm breaks his heart honestly

"I-I cant remember what i did-"

Because he literally didn't do anything he's such a sweetheart-

Ohhh i swear the comfort you have to give him is gonna be big-

Thinks real hard and can't find ANYTHING in his memories-

"it's a joke-!" You bubbled out and damn is he reliefed-so happy that he didn't do anything

But you did-and what you're gonna do next is cuddling and giving out the explanation why excatly you did this for his poor soul

KALIM AL-ASIM:

Oh bless his innocent soul

Besides all the partying and mess he does by accident, innocent

He does nothing wrong in your relationship except keeping you entertained and sporty

But a small little prank? Maybe-maybe it would be funny to see his reaction

And his reaction was that he started to laugh, no way he did something that bad. He didn't do anything in the last hours so it can't be it

But when you didn't laugh like he did...he worry's. Was really everything ok? Did he maybe hurt you by accident?

Panic

Starts to apologize so much you can't even understand him anymore

Jamil watching: (ಠ_ಠ)

"Kalim, I'm sorry! Its a prank!"

And then he's all happy again

A prank, of course it was one! He never does something bad!

VIL SCHÖNHEIT:

no one can shock this beauty that he starts to stress

Nothing and no one

But you can-and you know exactly how

Besides the 'make up is running out' situation or one of his brushes broke. Chill

But the moment you stepped into his room angry saying "I know what you did!" He was: ????

Tells you to calm down and tell him wHaT mR pErFeCt dId WrOnG

Nothing-

But you wouldn't tell him that

You kept on looking at him angry and he then and there starts to worry a bit

...what could he done wrong?

Spaces out a little so you gonna snap him out of it, "Prank-" you simply said-

You got kicked out-youre wasting time??!! Is make up honeyyyyy, it's more important than a prank

But not as important as you---

TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

[delicrieux]

—𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘯

pairing—remus lupin x fem!reader genre—angst, romance, young adult warnings—descriptions of blood, swearing, uses of cigarettes & alcohol cast—y/n, remus, james, lily word count— 2.4k

—remus lupin comes to a small remote village in britain’s nowhere to get away from the stress of everyday life.  

author’s note: a quiet look into everyday life with remus

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | season series masterpost | autumn features  ♥  october, already?

Silence. The worst kind. The train groans and rumbles underneath him and hisses with fumes yet there are no other passengers, no other spectres of this world or another. Towns, plains, forests — all pass him as a deep green blur of ending summer. The conductor sometimes cuts the stillness of the compartment with a buzzing, static announcement from the radio before abruptly— silence, again.

It haunts him. He is not one for crowds yet now he would give all the money in his pockets — he does not have much, but he has enough — to make people simply appear. Not to talk to him. They could not even see him for all he cares, yet some sort of commotion, laugh, bits of gossip, anything really, would be better than to listen to his bitter thoughts. The wolf inside him, this terrible, frightful thing, howls in his ears threats and promises, all more horrid than the last. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. This body, his body, is starting to feel unlike his at all.

He fears the moon. He fears the night and the feeling it brings along with it. He fears the loneliness and the haziness that crashes him when he awakes after a transformation. He fears that one day he might not wake up at all. But more than that, he fears that when he does he won’t know who he is anymore.

Perhaps that is the reason he packed his measly belongings in a bag and rushed to the nearest station, buying a ticket to somewhere and not daring to stop and think for even a moment. He could’ve phoned James, but oh, he’s so busy with Lily. He could’ve reached out for Sirius, but that one is hardly reachable these days, and hardly in London — possibly gallivanting somewhere with a romantic partner he will lose interest faster than he can down a shot. He could’ve gone to Peter — he lives the closest and never refuses his company — but he too seemed preoccupied these days, anxious and pale. And Remus just wanted to go. To run away. To be spontaneous and just not care for a moment.

And it was exhilarating before the train started moving. When it did, and the silence settled, doubts and regrets washed down on him like a cold wave.

A few more hours of voiceless torment and the conductor announces his stop. Bibury. The air is fresh and cool against his skin when he steps off of the train and into the sunlight. It seems to refresh the very core of his soul. There is no grand station and no noise. Few patrons litter about, an old cabin stands with a welcome sign and information: village is but ten minutes down the road. He rents a bicycle and the old man behind the counter smiles at him as if he was his son. It makes him flustered. He is too used to being invisible.

The village is stuck in time, the houses small and clay like, drowning in greenery and flowers. He feels like he stepped into a fairy-tale. It makes him lightheaded. The air. The sun. The tranquillity. Silence here does not sound so painful.

It reminds him of Hogsmeade, minus the snow, and the careless days spent at Hogwarts. How times have changed, he thinks with a broken heart, slowing the bike to stop by a tavern. He had not booked a room; he had not known if there are rooms here to book even. But the sign by the window informs of free beds and so he parks his bike, fixes the strap of his bag awkwardly, smiles lamely at the elderly couple sat outside by a table, drinking juice or tea or coffee. They smile back. He nervously scrambles inside.

When all is taken care of and he puts his things away, he comes down, key in his pocket, anxious pep in his step. He calls James first. The green telephone is sweaty in his hand. You’re where? comes his friend’s concerned voice. Bibury, he says, his voice uncertain and hoarse to his own ears. Where? James doesn’t quite get it. Just…away from the noise. It’s lovely here, you know, Remus mutters, eyes glancing about the modest interior. You could’ve come visit, Lily misses you! I do too. Blimey, mate, I was planning a get together for ages. Guess it’ll have to wait, though. No worries. Sirius is in Brighton, the mess he’s caused, listen to this— and he goes on and on and Remus’ sudden trip is out the conversation like that. He’s almost glad. James sounded worried, a tad guilty perhaps. He hates making his friends worry. He hates how depended he feels. Sirius’ escapades are much more interesting than his spiralling health and mental state.

“So when will you be back?” James finally asks. Who are you talking to? Remus hears Lily’s distant voice, followed by a nonchalant Moony by James. Ah! Say hello! And nag him for not visiting, please.

“In a few weeks.” That’s a lie, he hadn’t even thought about when to return, though his answer is satisfactory enough.

“Ah, right then, clear your calendar because you will stop by or else Lily will have my head.” James laughs, “You alright?” His sudden question makes Remus stiffen. Caught off guard he glances to the side. And any coherent thought goes out the window with that—

He hadn’t noticed her before, perhaps her shift had just started because she carries a full tray of drinks and snacks and her uniform is neatly ironed and there’s a blush on her cheeks. He gulps. Looks away. Then looks again. And this time their eyes meet and she gives him a polite, soft smile before going outside with the tray and he feels his heart skip beats, longing to go after her.

“Brilliant.” He says, breathless, “I gotta go, now. Good talking to you. Tell the rest, yea?” He doesn’t wait for an answer and hangs up, suddenly invigorated. He follows after her outside and sees her assisting the elderly couple he saw before. They’re reading newspapers. What could possibly be happening here that’s worth the ink?

He takes a seat by a lonely table by his bike, anxious, uncomfortable in the daylight. And as he suspected she saunters to him, the same smile gracing her lovely face and for a moment he forgets how to breathe—

“Hi!” She greets him cheerily, “Anything I can get you?”

“Uhh—“

“You’re new here, aren’t you.” It’s not a question, rather a statement, “Probably starving, no? I’ll get your our lunch special. Anything to drink?”

“I—“ He glances at the menu, not having even touched it, “I’ll, uhm, have some tea, thank you.”

She nods. “I’ll be right back with your order.”

And she leaves again and a part of him leaves with her. It’s not a long wait but it’s enough to make him second question every decision he had ever made. And when she returns she sets down his tea and some truffles.

“Thank you.” He smiles. Or tries to, at least. He’s not sure if he manages.

“Not a problem.” She replies sweetly, “I’m (Name), by the way.”

“Remus.”

She repeats his name a few times under her breath, testing the syllables, the vowels and consonants. And instantly he somehow knows that he is safe; that his name is safe inside her mouth; that she will never say it in a tone that portrays disgust. It’s liberating and heart-breaking at the same time. He feels anew yet constrained. She says his name with honesty. He knows he will never be fully honest with her. He cannot give her the same genuine smile she gives him.

The day passes like a dream. She joins him for lunch — not many people here, she could spare a moment of her attention to him — as she found him so interesting and strange. He is not used to such attention. It was usually Sirius that had any waitress charmed before he said his order, or James before he found Lily. Peter and Remus were always in the background, somewhat uncomfortable, somewhat envious. Though apparently (Name) found his fidgeting and reserved manner charming.

She likes the summer, but appreciates autumn, too. She rides her bike everywhere and only been to London twice. She cooks. She worked as a newspaper girl when she was young. She attended school in a nearby town ten miles away. She enjoys the quiet life, simple pleasures: a starry sky, luminous moon, wine in the evening, a delicious meal, pretty outfit, the wind in her hair.

She was so open and beautiful it was like sitting next to the sun herself. He was so happy it was hard to breath. But in the back of his mind, through the whole exchange, a voice nagged him: liar. And that voice was right. He is a liar. He skewed the truth as much as needed, possibly more than needed. He could not reveal that he went to Hogwarts, but without tales of Hogwarts he had nothing to tell.

A day passes. Then five. The summer heat still lingers, but cool winds blow more frequently and the sky is often covered in clouds. Time here is stagnant and nothing really changes. It calms him. He is desperate for stability, and he thinks he has found it. And he sees her often, they hang out, they go on walks sometimes and talk till his throat is sore. It’s the most happy he has felt in years.

Three weeks pass and he still does not consider leaving. The greenery slowly turns brown, red, orange. Golden sunlight dyes the town and sets it aglow. He walks with his hands in his pockets. She has her gaze set on the ground while he has his on her. They’re going home. It was her idea.

“How about dinner? Promise I won’t poison you.” She had said with a giggle and he agreed, perhaps too eagerly.

She lives in a small cottage and he has felt more at home staring at it than he has ever felt in London. A light breeze ruffles his hair as he slowly follows after her on a beaten path between green grass and flowers. She fishes for her keys, mumbles apologies “Sorry, they should be here, oh, don’t tell me I left—Aha! There!” and unlocks the door, ushering him inside. The whaff of wood, bread, and dried flowers greets him first. She flicks on the lights. He could stay here forever.

The kitchen is small and cosy and overrun with knickknacks, decorative plates and cups and cooking utensils. There is nothing even remotely modern here.

“So!” She sings, dropping her bag on the chair and going to the record player, “Hope you don’t mind some Bob Dylan?”

“Oh, no, definitely not.” He says hurriedly. She’s so considerate. It makes him feel fuzzy. After a moment the signature shriek of Dylan’s guitar fills the silence with an upbeat though somewhat mellow tune.

She cooks. He helps. She laughs at him amiable efforts and he chuckles stuck between embarrassment and mirth.

“What have you been eating before you came here?” She wonders aloud, stirring the pot. Enticing smells fill the kitchen; heat warms his cheeks. He suddenly forgets everything he had ever tasted. Noting his bewilderment, she giggles, landing a hand on his shoulder and catching his gaze, “Nothing good, I can tell.” Her eyes are twinkling, a smile that is not quite smug yet not quite soft either on her lips, “Well, no matter now. You can be my sous-chef until you go back to London.”

His heart is pounding like a wild drum. He can hardly believe what he’s hearing, “…What? No! No—I mean, that would be lovely, but I can’t— can’t impose on you like that.” He finishes his frantic spill a bit softer, brows burrowed, contemplating.

“Oh, I insist.” She dismisses his tirade with a wink and goes back to the food, “Wine’s on the cabinet to your right. I trust you to open it.”

He’s better at opening bottles than dealing with knifes and spoons and trying to decide what spice goes with what. His whole meal plan had been a measly quick grub at any open diner whifch sold edible food at an affordable price; he never cooked at home, never had enough time, nor want to make anything. So as she worked he sat down and listened to her low hum and Dylan’s pitched voice coming from the speaker. He finds it hard to fight down a smile, the amazing sense of comfort and belonging as he watches her work.

“Wine?” She calls, extending her hand though she never quite turns to him fully. He jerks from his seat and with shaky hands pours two glasses and does not spill a drop. He hands one to her and she smiles gratefully, reassuring him that dinner’s almost ready. She’s blushed and apologetic for it taking so long. He cares little of the fact, if at all. It’s spending time with her that counts, and he could sit in that lovely daze for way longer than he is willing to admit.

The rest of the night is just like that – pleasant and dizzy. Her meal is delicious and her laugh is contagious, the prettiest sound he had ever heard. And many nights like these follow: they cook, well, she does, he keeps her company and recommends an odd spice here and there, or they dance when the rain is drumming against the windows of her home and the lights twinkle so enjoyably as the record player suddenly strums her favourite song, or they watch television, one of those horrid dating shows that even he finds tolerable when her head rests on his shoulder and she keeps giggling and muttering jokes.

It’s the end of September when they kiss in the kitchen like it’s a dancefloor.  It was he, struck by sudden devout passion and bravery, who leaned in and pecked her lips in a testing, shy way, flustering and taking a step back once he realized that he, possibly, should have not done that. It was their typical evening, them having dinner in the dying golden light and it just felt right. His brows were burrowed and he searched her face for a fearful heartbeat and then she grinned and pulled him in again at he swore he had never tasted anything sweeter.

And later, their bodies moulding in smothering heat, he realised that there is no one in the world that looks prettier in moonlight, that there is no one who can make him appreciate the luminous pale glow of the night.

october, already?