#the characters are from my own imagination

[cerisahh]

summary — love language headcanons for the arcane characters (giving and receiving)

characters included — jinx, ekko, silco, vander, viktor

cerisa speaks — literally started writing this the night of s2 act 3 release and only now finishing it if that doesn't tell you something about how inconsistent i am idk what does. ATTENTION PEOPLE IN MY REQUESTS!! i swear to god i will do your request in the next year for sure! viktor forgive me, amen.

jinx — gift giving. jinx's most loyal companion is her imagination so it isn't hard for her to think of gifts that are personal to you that'd you'd enjoy.

we see many of the little homemade trinkets that she's made for silco throughout the years, my favourite being the ashtray he keeps on the desk in his office. so dependant on what you're into, she'll showcase her love for you in the form of a trinket.

oh, so you like to read? she sees you dog-earing a page of your book whilst you two are in her hangout and drops her current project to fashion you a bookmark. you only notice that her tinkering has stopped when the bookmark has been dropped on your lap and she's made a blasé comment about you destroying your book for too long so she just had to make you this so you'd stop.

hiding behind a mask of indifference when giving out her gifts is kind of her thing, but she's anxious to no end to see if you like it. her mind runs a mile a minute; 'don't they like it? do the colours not match? they hate it they hate it theyhateittheyhateittheyhateme-'

until you're holding it carefully between your fingers and your mouth is making that 'o' shape it does when something unexpected has happened. when you say that it's the most thoughtful gift you've ever received she's insistent on making you a hundred more.

physical touch. stop booing me i'm right! let me explain. as we see before powder becomes jinx, she's quite normal with physical contact, we see vi hugging her, putting a hand on her shoulder, claggor helping her down to the apartment, etc.

it's after vi slaps and abandons her that she becomes uncomfortable with physical touch. silco (most of the time) lets her initiate it on her own terms.

one time he doesn't is where she's playing airplane with his shimmer device and he grabs her wrist. she lets him retain his grip for a moment but when she does move her arm away he doesn't follow her. through my own delusions i've come to the conclusion that jinx wants, maybe even craves physical comfort, but quickly feels smothered by it when it's forced on her.

despite this, with the right person i feel like she would be willing to accept physical affection from them. it would take time to establish and develop a trusting relationship with jinx but when you're there, you're there. she's also a deeply insecure person when it comes to relationships of any kind and retaining them so you'll have to slip in some words of affirmation between touches.

her favourite way to receive physical touch would for sure be you playing with her hair. running your fingers through it and scratching her scalp? congratulations, that's your new job. you mention off the cuff how you'd love to see her hair down? suddenly there's a brush in your hands and an expectant and giddy jinx sitting in front of you.

even though she trusts you, she'll still get startled and tense up if you suffocate her with too much affection. holding your arms out for a hug or patting the seat next to you so she can lean into your arms is a much better way to initiate contact with her.

a little extra headcanon, when she's doing your nails she'll use her own hands to hold your fingers still instead of a wrist rest. she says it keeps them steadier so she doesn't make any mistakes but really she craves that subtle contact.

ekko — acts of service. season two episode seven dictates this as canon i'll be taking no arguments on this day. seeing his huge mural of future vi to show powder after he upsets her really just cements this headcanon. this is a pretty big action so i'll focus on the smaller ones for now.

starting off really strong with him decorating your room for you. close your eyes and imagine him building you a shelf to store your books or keepsakes. not only building it but carving designs into it. ohh you like music? well take a look at those carvings of sheet music! and do you spy some new books in your collection (stolen from a piltover library, naturally)

with so many different types of people living at the tree, at the beginning he was pretty much forced to learn how to cook all different types of meals. it paid off though because no matter where you hail from, he'll be able to prepare you any of your favourite dishes.

the more i type about ekko the more i realise he is the best househusband out of the arcane gang. he can cook, he can clean, he's a provider - he is quite literally the entire package. him being a certified pretty boy also helps because everyone needs a little eye candy in their life.

this one is sickeningly sweet but for relationship milestones, and even just randomly, ekko will fully plan out a date night for the two of you. picnics on the top of buildings that overlook the neon lights of the undercity, just the two of you. it's so intimate.

physical touch. now this i truly will be taking no arguments on. receiving physical affection for ekko is huge. we all saw how fast he hugged benzo in the alternate au!!

with so many people from his early life either dying (benzo, vander, claggor, mylo) or leaving (jinx and vi), ekko hasn't really had anyone to offer him any form of closeness. sure, he has the firelights. it just isn't the same though.

so when you come along with all the tender hugs and fond touches that he's been deprived of for so long he knows he's done for. consider him addicted. even just clapping a hand on his shoulder after a fight, hell, LEANING ON HIM?? that man is YOURS to command for now until the end.

knowing you're just physically there and not going anywhere - not abandoning him - he's content to bask in your presence.

quick kisses and brief glances at each other come in abundance. if you're not at the firelights base then you're on the go. it's these times that make you both appreciate the time you have with each other. ekko plans to take full advantage of the downtime you both have between missions. don't expect to stray a few feet from each other.

silco — acts of service. silco's acts of service are usually communicated through orders that he gives his goons. say you offhandedly mention that some shimmer addicts have set up camp in the alley next to your apartment. when you leave the last drop and go home you notice that those shimmer addicts you briefly complained about? gone. without a trace.

i feel like he prefers to give out acts of service to you as a kind of 'i can provide for you, don't leave' kind of thing. you don't need to ask silco to do something, he'll take the initiative. he wants you to view him as a reliable provider. this sounds very 50s but he's an old fashioned kind of guy so it checks out.

not the kind of guy to do chores at the start i'm afraid. he has people for that. maybe you can convince him to wash the dishes after you cook you, him and jinx a meal. but never and i mean NEVER will you catch this man hoovering or mopping the floor. that is just simply not going to fucking happen. you'd have better luck asking him to quit smoking.

not gonna lie he just lightens the load of whatever jobs you need to do so you can spend more time together. the famed eye of zaun is clingy.

physical touch. actually controversial take no way CHILLS! similarly to jinx, silco wouldn't actively look for physical touch in any given situation. he's obviously traumatised by his former best friend choking him out and drowning him underwater. not to mention completely brutalising his eye.

jinx is likely the only person he would willingly let touch him. not even sevika on a good day gets that privilege. you would need to spend a lot of time gaining silco's undying trust. only when you two are emotionally close will you be able to share his touch.

buying you jewellery just so he can feel the warmth of your body heat as he clasps the necklace around you neck. silco is very subtle and sneaky when he wants to be close to you.

his neck is off limits to everyone, even you. placing your hand on his collarbone whilst entangled in bed together is the furthest you'll get.

vander — physical touch. oh i just know this man gives the best bear hugs. physical intimacy with vander is just safety incarnate. when he takes you into his arms it really feels like a breath of topside air after a lifetime underground.

i don't think vander would really like being with a partner that didn't enjoy physical affection. it's not only a bonding experience for the both of you to engage in but also a display of trust that he deeply values.

conveying his love for you with intimacy, non-sexual and sexual is something he cherishes. the level of mutual understanding and relationship building that comes with it is indispensable to vander. basically the keys to a successful partnership with him.

that little symbol of love in the undercity where two people touch their foreheads together? that's the most significant way you can show that you truly care for someone and it's vander's favourite way to connect with you in moments of peace.

words of affirmation. vander is the type of guy to not necessarily need words of affirmation to feel good about himself but will appreciate it all the same. he tries so hard to be a good example to the kids and in general to the populace of the undercity. he wants this life to be better. he wants to be better.

he's the leader, the protector, all the pressure is on him. affirming his efforts through words goes further than you might think.

it's you and him against the world. the brewing political storm that plagues both the undercity and piltover is little more than a distant thought when you're whispering honeyed words to and fro in the dead of night. for a man with such an imposing presence, telling him that you love and need him makes him weak.

with your words of affirmation, he's more certain of his role in the undercity than he's ever been. you renew the passion he had in youth, he wants the best for you and will do whatever he can to obtain it.

viktor — quality time. viktor is all about sharing the same space as his partner. with him being the co-founder of hextech, it's difficult for him to find time alone to dote on you. which is why you''ll often find yourself in the company of viktor (and oftentimes jayce) in their lab, them working on a new use for hextech, and yourself either studying or simply watching the magic (literally) happen.

when jayce is off being the poster child of hextech or following councillor medarda around like a lost puppy, you and viktor will settle into comfortable silences. usually with the only noise being the tinkering of science equipment or the quick scribbles of pen on paper. there's no pressure to fill the room with unnecessary chattering. just you being with him is enough. your presence is akin to a relaxant to him.

sometimes most of the time you'll need to remind him to take breaks when you've been there for hours on end and he's showing no signs of stopping or slowing down. it's a practised routine at this point; he refuses, you leave it alone for five minutes, during this time he is sneaking glances at you when he thinks you aren't looking, waiting for you to ask again.

when you do, he feigns reluctance as you grab his hand to get you both some fresh air and a proper meal. he might actually be part cat now that i'm thinking about it. he just can't help but love spending time with you.

words of affirmation. actions speak louder than words? pft, yeah right. communication is deeply valued by viktor. he's exceptional at deducing someone's intentions behind their words so don't even bother trying to get something by him. it won't work. you try to plan surprise birthday party for him? he's one of the first people to find out about it.

so when you earnestly tell him how special he is to you or how appreciative you are of him, he knows it's 100% what you actually think and BOY does that fluster him more than anything.

he isn't very big on compliments, not that he doesn't value the ones you so willingly give him, but he finds it hard to accept the good and beauty you see in him. there will always be a part of viktor, machine herald or mortal man, that refuses to believe he could be good enough for this type of love. when he retracts inside his mind and lets his doubt drown him, it's you who can pull him out of the water and onto land. telling him that you love him just the way he is will silence his uncertainty.

oh you know what would just about finish him off? making him a lunch box and putting a note in there. it doesn't having to be something poetic, even a simple 'i love you ♡' will be at the forefront of his mind until he gets back home to you.

honestly, if you're someone who expresses their love through words of gratitude or proclamations of admiration then a relationship with viktor will be smooth sailing.

[benkeibear]

『 AITA: For accidentally sending nudes to my sons best friend? 』

☼ synopsis: Toji accidentally sends nudes to his sons best friend... but was it really an accident?

☼ character: Toji Fushiguro

☼ reader: female | AFAB

☼ wc: 2033

☼ cw: phone sex, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Toji in his 40s), masturbation, pet names: baby/doll/bunny, mentions of pussy eating and p in v

☼ notes: a sudden need for dilf Toji overcame my horny brain... I won't apologize 😭

[1 New Message, 3 Images Attached]

Your head piped up when your phone vibrated, your focus instantly vanished when you saw his name - Toji. Seeing his name on your phone was a rare sight, he only ever texted you when Megumi didn't show up at night or when you asked him to pick you up from god knows where because it was far too dangerous to walk home at a late hour. Hell, at this point you almost called him dad with how many times he showed up for you or the way he treats you like his own.

Curiously you opened the messages to see why on earth that man texted you at almost 1 am, but your phone dropped to the floor and your jaw almost joined the device. You pinched the bridge of your nose and picked the phone up again. This surely wasn't what you were thinking...right?

A shaky breath left your lips when you unlocked your phone again, only to be met with Toji Fushiguro's cock splayed all over the screen. It wasn't even tasteful, just your average dick in hand while jerking off picture. Unsure if you should even stare at it the way you did, you swiped left to be met with a similar picture, but it was the short video that followed that left you breathless. He sounded so frustrated, angrily moving his fist up and down his thick shaft, his foreskin slightly shifting over the tip each time. It was hypnotic and after the fifth time of watching the eight second long video, you had to close it, your pussy aching from neglect, but your brain told you not to indulge. You really shouldn't touch yourself to nudes of your best friend's dad, now should you? This surely was a mistake and it almost made you chuckle, the thought of Toji going on dates and probably scaring these poor women off with his attitude alone.

Biting your lip, you decided that it couldn't hurt to indulge, worst case, you could blame him for it - he's the older one, after all, and should know better. Your clothes were quickly discarded before you took a few tasteful nudes, which you immediately sent to him. They were really tasteful, nothing too revealing and most importantly, not showing your face.

[1 New Message, 1 Video Attached]

With a shaky breath, you opened the video, your other hand gently rolling one of your nipples before traveling down south while the video played on a low volume.

“That's my good girl,” his voice rasps into the microphone, praising you for indulging, but his voice almost gets drowned out by the view, his cock was painfully hard, veins visibly popping and his grip was tight as he worked on his lubed up cock. The view once again left you hypnotized, his big hands looked small when he held his cock and it left your pussy clenching around nothing as your thoughts ran wild. Would you even be able to take him? He surely would rip you clean into two pieces with how huge his cock is.

Your pussy was absolutely drenched by now, fingers gently circling your clit and occasionally dipping the tip of a finger inside of your entrance to tease yourself.

“Bet you want me to fuck you dumb on my cock. Make you forget your own fucking name, bunny,” he groaned, a low moan following after the pet name that had your clit throbbing. You wanted nothing more than to hear this moan directly next to your ear when he pushes your head into the pillows and fucks you until you're a babbling mess for him - for your best friend's dad.

“Fuck- I can only imagine what your little cunt would look like stretched around me right now… so fucking tight and messy.” His hips buck up to meet the thrusts of his hand and you can see his abs ripple beneath his skin. He was right. Your pussy is a mess right now.

“Show me that messy pussy I love so much, baby. Let me see,” he encourages you to send him more of you, which is where the video ends.

A shiver runs down your spine and your finger stills against your sweet spot, but you don't pull it out just yet, contemplating if you should go further than you already did.

Your needy cunt clenched around your finger, letting you know that you fucking need to see more of Toji, need to see him come undone in order to earn your own release. These thoughts won't let you think straight, so you angle your camera and hit record when you rub your little clit just before dipping two fingers into your messy cunt. The squelching noises are obscene when you start curling them against your sweet spot and at this point, you can't hold back mewls and small whimpers anymore, practically whining his name and begging for his cock like a bitch in heat. Just as you were about to release, you pulled your fingers out, edging yourself and sending the little video to Toji.

[Message: Sent]

[Message: Read]

In order to keep yourself dancing along the edge, you ran your fingers over your clit with feather light touches, just waiting for him to type or send more of your newest addiction - his cock.

Toji stroked his dick in time with the way you pump your fingers into your cunt, fast and needy, but when you start whining for him, he almost loses control, his balls suddenly feeling tight and his urge to release getting almost unbearable… until he catches a glimpse of your face. It was just a fraction of a second, but he would recognize your face everywhere.

His hand stilled right away, his orgasm ruined, but his cock twitched greedily.

“Fuck,” he cursed out and locked his phone before running his hand over his face. Without wasting another moment, he wiped the remnants of lube on his hand off on his discarded t-shirt and dialed your number.

When you finally picked up, it was just silent on both sides, neither of you sure what to say, so he puts on the big boy pants and speaks up first.

“That wasn't meant for you,” it sounded like he scolded you, as if you invaded his privacy when it was his fault to begin with.

“I should have paid better attention, sorry.” An actual apology followed seconds later and you could hear that his heart and mind racing equally as fast as yours, although he would never admit to it. He was met with silence once again.

“You shouldn't have sent me anything back. I would have deleted everything if you would have just…” He began to explain that he would have never asked this of you, trying his best to be a proper adult here, when in reality he has thought about bending your cute ass over the kitchen counter quite a few times.

Toji can't even deny it at this point. He likes his women a lot younger and you're no exception here, even though his son is your best friend, so what? There was a reason he stopped talking, though, a little whimper on your end caught him off guard.

“Are you fucking getting off to this?” He asked, but it sounded more accusatory, although you can hear his smirk, you know him well enough that you know that he's just trying to be that stern adult when in reality he likes to think with that big cock of his.

Get a grip. She is young enough to be your fucking daughter. Toji tried to hold himself back, but at this point it was like a tightly coiled spring, the more pressure applied, the more inevitable he would snap - so he chuckled.

His chuckle sounded almost mocking, but it turned you on even more. The fact that he could hear just how pathetic you were, how desperately you craved him to stretch you open on his cock and fuck you until you could neither sit nor walk comfortably for the next days to come. Two of your fingers slipped into your dripping pussy once again, a silent gasp escaping you at the light stretch.

“You thinkin’ of my fingers fucking you, bunny?” He mused out and you heard a lid click shut on his line, followed by a small hiss. The lube felt like fucking ice against his rock hard length, but he needed it, wanting to imagine your little cunt wrapped around him and not his shitty hands. You mewled in reply, but it wasn't good enough for him.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you thinkin’ of,” his voice sounded raw, the hunger for you dripped off of every word, and you could already feel your walls flutter. The sheer perversion and the taboo of this alone were enough to have you on edge, but the way he talked to you drove you to the brink of insanity.

“Y-yes,” you whimpered and your voice cracked in such an embarrassing way, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Toji could hear how needy you were for him - not knowing if you've ever been fucked properly or if your fingers were all that your cunt ever got stuffed with - he took pity on your whining self.

“Come for me, baby, let me hear you,” he encouraged you to finally cave in, to let the knot that has formed in your tummy snap. Heaven knows he was just as close with how desperate you were for him, whining his name so sweetly as you came around your little fingers. He could practically see it, your toes curling and your mouth hung open as you tried to close your thighs, fingers still curling by the sound and he wanted nothing more than to have you clench around his cock like that - you'd grip him like a vice and he would never let you go until you're dripping with his cum and -

“Fuck-” Toji’s chest rumbled with a groan as he painted his defined abs with small shots of ivory, a few drops running down his hand as he squeezed his sensitive tip a little harder than necessary just for it to sting with overstimulation.

There was silence between the two of you for a few minutes, heavy breathing slowly evening out and the haze of hormones wearing off, leaving you to think about what just happened between the both of you.

“Are you okay?” He eventually asked, actually worried that you might regret this.

“Hmm, yeah,” you whisper softly, and it felt like a whole entire mountain fell off his chest.

“Do you… regret it, doll?” He proceeded to ask you as he wiped the cum away with the discarded T-shirt before tossing it to the ground.

“Not really,” you giggle softly and shake your head. “I just regret that it wasn't actually your fingers,” you sound teasing with an edge of sincerity and it was a breath of fresh air to him. He never thought you would be this naughty.

“Naughty… Perhaps I can change that next time I drive you home,” he mused, letting you know that this won't ever happen in his home.

“Yeah… let's not tell Megs anything about that, okay?” You ask shy, the guilt was slowly eating you alive from keeping such a secret, but Megumi wouldn't like it much to know that you're fucking his dad. He would probably never speak to you again should he find out.

“That boy won't find it out from me anyway,” Toji reassured you, never telling his son anything about his love life to begin with - let alone about the women he ends up in bed with.

“But who knows. Perhaps I'll have you as a dessert one day. You just gotta be real quiet, he muses, the playfulness practically dripping from his voice and you rubbed your thighs together.

“Don't say that, Mr. Fushiguro. I might hold you to it,” you chuckle as your finger gently glides over your slick folds once again.

“Maybe you can tell me about all the things you intend to do to me.”...

Networks @pixelcafe-network @houseofsolisoccasum

[grimmsbride]

▒ ❀ ̭͡⠀ ❛ SOME ENCOURAGEMENT. NAM-GYU / PLAYER 124

nam-gyu attempts to recruit beloved, timid reader into thanos’s world. all it takes is a little encouragement.

𖥔 ࣪˖ TAGS, nam-gyu is a little pushy (but everything is consensual between him and reader) | unconsensual voyuerism (again everyone is asleep but i don’t wanna make anyone uncomfortable) | ooc characters (first time writing for nam-gyu) | minor degradation & praise (+humiliation(?)) | use of the words slut, good girl, etc. | fingering | minor dacryphilia | just a silly little imagine | nam-gyu is lowkey manipulative | reader is a freak with a thing for fingers/hands | etc.

𖥔 ࣪˖ NOTES, writing smut on company time is actually hilarious, idk why i got this idea during work. but anywho — i hope you enjoy, i tried my hand at his character. as always please ignore any grammar mistakes or typos.

Imagine Nam-Gyu attempting to recruit someone without the advice of his beloved purple-haired leader. Surprising, right? Despite his own issues with inferiority; the ex-club worker just seems to follow behind Thanos like a hungry puppy desperate for a bone— or drugs, for that matter. But no, just this once, Nam-Gyu takes the lead. The numbers are growing closer and even more scarce, fear lacing people’s minds and causing them to hit that dreaded X button. Thanos’s World’s dream is to continue the games to pay off their debts, right?— so it only made sense for Nam-Gyu to turn an X over to the O side.

He couldn’t just pick anyone. Someone far too strong-willed would definitely tell him no, and someone far too weak would just be a curse rather than a blessing.

Who to choose.. Who to choose..

Soon enough the man’s eyes are locking on to you— a contestant he has seen around, yet hasn’t heard much from. Not only were you easy on the eyes but you just seemed like the perfect person to shape into a worthy teammate.

Within minutes he’s approaching you, an easy-going smile in place as your name falls from his lips. Nam-Gyu had heard it said before by someone close to you, another random that he hadn’t bother to think about.

“Yes..?” Your words are slow, lips pursing as you take in the man before you. You were beyond nervous; this was the lackey of that purple-haired lunatic after all. Watching the two fight on the very first day was enough to tell you to avoid them at all costs. Yet here you were, a few feet away from one of them, under his gaze that trailed over you like a pretty piece of jewelry behind a display case.

You couldn’t help but bring your hands closer to yourself, teeth dragging across your cheek nervously.

From your head to your toes, Nam-Gyu’s eyes soon landed on that big red patch residing just under your bosom. With a breathy chuckle he reached over, allowing a single finger to press and trace the X.

“You wanna get out of the games that bad, huh? You voted X twice already.”

Your eyes flicked down to his hand, before traveling back to his face. “Yeah well..” You dragged slowly, watching that harsh gaze return to your features.

“I—I want to get rid of my debts.. but putting my life on the line for it just seems..” You hoped you got your words across perfectly, even without continuing your sentence. Sure, it was hard being hounded for your debts, but death looming over your head just didn’t seem worth it.

Still, Nam-Gyu only shook his head at you, a sigh full of pity escaping his lips.

“Well, that’s where you’re messing up.” Nam-Gyu hummed, stepping just a bit closer, finger still tracing that damned patch. Your attention kept flicking between his face and finger, wondering why exactly warmth was pooling throughout your entire body.

“Worrying too much about dying is what’s gonna get you killed, not anything else.”

Your eyebrows knitted close, a look of confusion plastered across your face. Worrying seemed like the right way to keep yourself alive.. right? Not worrying just seemed, well— stupid. Not that you would say that to his face, obviously.

“I have to disagree..”

Just barely did you hear the sound of the man sucking his teeth, watching the way his face turned to the side, clearly searching for his next few words. You debated on walking away from this conversation, it was clear what his objective was. And whether ordered by Thanos or not, you didn’t really want to know— nor figure out.

Yet for some reason you were practically glued to the spot, blinking up at him and waiting oh, so patiently for his next spiel. And as you watched his face turn back to you, your breath got caught in your throat.

“Okay then.. worry all you want, but you wouldn’t you want someone to look out for you?” Nam-Gyu’s other hand was reaching to your patch at this point, using both thumbs to trace it. “Being on this side, there’s no unity.. it’s every person for themself.”

The two of you locked eyes, a sickeningly sweet smile crossing his face.

“Come with us, and we’ll look after you. I’ll personally see to it too.”

Slowly did your teeth sink into your bottom lip, struggling to maintain the eye contact that he seemed so keen on keeping. The only thing you could hear was your racing heart and the gentle sounds of his thumbs sliding across that red patch. His words were.. tempting. You wondered if he rehearsed what to say, like a video game with multiple endings; did he have it all figured out before he even walked over? Was he so prepared to convert you, using every rejection you had as some silly obstacles the man easily hobbled over?

So caught up in your thoughts, you hardly realized Nam-Gyu had gotten even closer until his breath fanned across your ear in a simple;

I’ll let you think it over, let’s talk again later..

When you thought of later, you initially believed in thirty mins or so. Maybe this time he would bring over his beloved leader to really get the point across. But no, later seemed to be during lights out; when you all should be sleeping, tucked away in the rare bliss these murderous games brought.

And the only talking that was happening was the soft words Nam-Gyu continued to whisper into your ear and the even softer moans of passion that slipped from your swollen lips.

See, Nam-Gyu wasn’t an idiot despite what Thanos seems to think. Quickly he caught on to two things whilst speaking to you.

The first being, you were quite cute when nervous. And two, you just loved looking at his hands.

So what better way to really stretch his point across but using his beloved fingers to stretch you open just how he liked?

“Should have done this from the start, look how cooperative you’re being..” The smile on Nam-Gyu’s face was permanent at this point, the corner of his mouth twitching with each pitiful moan you released. His rings were tossed lazily to the side, his bare fingers now pushing into your sloppy cunt so perfectly. Longer then your own, they pushed and prodded; opening you up and rubbing against your soaked walls. With each breath you were clenching, causing the smile on his face to only grow deeper.

“Scared of dying but not of some stranger finger-fucking you, huh? What a joke.”

You wanted to tell him off, how he was so mean and so wrong. But you couldn’t, not with how your mind was getting complete lost from his movements. Your teeth were grinding into your bottom lip, a metallic taste filling your mouth as time progressed. Deep moans thundered from your throat, muffled by your harsh biting. You couldn’t imagine having your little recruitment interrupted by some poor contestant just trying to get some rest.

But with the way Nam-Gyu was practically ruining you, it didn’t seem he cared much either way. He was so hellbent on coaxing you, his lips right against your ear as that damned thumb came and circled your swollen bud.

“I told you I’d look after you right, where’s my thank you?”

Your eyes widened the moment his free hand rose, pushing at your cheeks and basically forcing your lips to part. The sound you let out was a strangled mix of a moan and gasp, quickly clasping your own hand against your mouth.

Nam-Gyu chuckled on his breath, thrusting a third finger into your wet cunt as he spoke; “What? You scared of the other contestants realizing how much of a slut you are? Shouldn’t worry too much; this messy cunt is making enough noise for you.”

Your eyes were meeting the back of your skull, so fucking mean he was— yet you couldn’t help but enjoy the attention. His digits were curling inside, brushing across that special spot that caused you to shake. Your thighs were clenching harshly around his arm, rushed breaths escaping as your chest rose and fell.

“Th—thank you.. fuck— please…!” You whimpered as softly as you possibly could, glossy eyes staring up at the man. You felt accomplished the moment he drew closer, feeling the cold metal of his chain brush against your heated skin before a gentle kiss was pressed right against your cheek.

“What a good girl.. You wanna come, hm?” The hand was lowering to your throat, fingers simply wrapping around it yet not squeezing. Nam-Gyu watched in pure enjoyment at the way your head tossed back and forth in a rushed nod; how needy you were for him. What a palpable little thing, is what he thought.

“I can make that happen, you just gotta do something for me.”

More words, whispered, tempting; drifting right into your ear and hitting the same pleasurable spots right between your legs. Speaking of, you felt your peak drawing closer; a tight band resting deep in your tummy— ready to burst.

You knew what he wanted, you weren’t an idiot nor were you too fucked out to forget. Your mind was screaming at you, telling you an orgasm wasn’t worth pressing that cursed button.

Yet, for now, you weren’t thinking with your brain, but with your pussy instead.

“P—please let me join! I’ll press the button— I promise!” Another whisper-yell escaped you, desperation clinging to every word as they fled those pretty lips.

With that final confirmation Nam-Gyu was quickening the pace of his fingers, eating up the way your body convulsed, a lost look invading your eyes as you came undone. Your essence trickled down his fingers all the way to his wrist, a sticky residue that he would make sure you clean up later.

For now.. his hand rose from your throat to instead cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb right under your eye so tenderly— so sweetly.

“I knew you could do it.. just needed some encouragement, right?”

[slurmpinheimer]

from @cyber-harpie !! spit that shit homie!! I thought this deserved to be seen because it brings up a lot interesting points—and I do agree with this, though it got me thinking again. I would like to add a few things to my initial statement because analysis and talking about Kim is fun;

(WARNING: MAJOR KIM-RELATED YAPPAGE BELOW)

I’ve watched several play throughs where (especially at the beginning of the game/if they have low psyche) people aren’t sure of Kim, or even go so far as to call him annoying, a buzzkill, or an asshole. At first I found myself getting really defensive about this. Obviously not to the point that I made any hate comments or anything, that would be silly— But just in my head, automatically dismissing it because I love him and didn’t want to hear it. I couldn’t imagine anyone disliking him, instead of thinking deeper and considering *why* people might come to these conclusions.

I believe the bits we get from Esprit and Empathy support my initial point that Harry is the perfect narrative device to meet Kim through. If I remember correctly, Kim was written specifically to find Harry funny, and Harry’s skills let us see that. and that’s IF you succeed the checks, or if you’re dedicated enough to save scum to see other possibilities/go through Fayde to see what other options might have held.

Like, before I learned about the end of the Homosexual Underground thought line, I certainly had my suspicions. I definitely thought Kim was at least queer-coded and headcanoned him as gay, but that thought trail is behind a legendary Composure check that I spent like 10 full minutes save-scumming. I had low motorics on my first run, and I only tried so hard because I had been spoiled and knew that it gave a thought called “Homosexual Underground” and needed to see where that led with my own eyes.

That’s just one example too—There’s several times that Kim Lore is behind hard checks (Ace’s High/Low, that tidbit about him smoking weed lol) or things he just refuses to elaborate on without specific circumstances. Plus there’s all the stuff that you can learn when you play a different quest line. I’ve had several people tell me that going through a fascist ends up with Kim actually being pretty open about things you don’t learn about in other questlines. I don’t even know all the details of that yet because I’ve been so busy doing the other quests and achievements that I haven’t finished a fascist run yet.

My thought process with all this is that without seeing Kim through the lens Harry, who works with him almost constantly for a week straight in a situation where deep and meaningful conversation is not just encouraged but *needed* to build a repertoire and ultimately solve the case—Not to mention the patience and care Kim treats Harry’s situation with—I can see how someone would look at Kim from the outside and find him to be… (anguish at typing out this word) …mid.

So yeah. On the surface level; Kim is a cop. He can be condescending and uptight, sometimes leading into lecturing people (something he himself admits). He plays his cards close to his chest, with both his moralist beliefs and even more so his sympathies for the rebellion—Which can make him look a bit like a fence sitter. He can be emotionally unavailable towards himself and others, making him hard to read and sometimes appear cold.

But past that, he is a beautifully crafted, deep character, and the perfect foil to the chaos that is Harry. He is the man that reaches out to shake your hand even though you ghosted him two days prior. He will pat you and give you a handkerchief when you throw up. He can be the man that sticks up for you time and time again, not just because he needs to in order to solve the case, but because if you really try, he believes you’re a good detective at heart. Past suicidal rants and nervous breakdowns, he encourages you to keep going.

He has been beaten down, ground and polished to a smooth finish by mutiple facets of oppression—from his glasses, to his race, his sexuality, all fundamental parts of himself that he cannot change. From years of working in a high-pressure, volatile work environment with low pay and little benefits other than the small satisfaction of completing a case, only to dive headfirst into the next one.

He pushed aside his lofty dreams of the skies to be down with the rest of us in the dirt and mud, trudging, struggling through life until we all inevitably burn away the fuel reserves and are nothing but smoke, a memory in the mind of fire.

Beyond that carefully constructed exterior, past his wall of professionalism (and habit of using his notebook as a shield) hides a goofy nerd, a lover of crosswords and cars, of silly radio stations, and a deep appreciation for beautifully bearded muscular men. He is an expert user of sarcasm and master of cryptic jokes, some even philosophical or political in nature. At his core, he wants to make things better for the people around him. He wants to believe he can make a difference, no matter how long it takes or how small the change is. Even if working for the RCM destroys him before he can see it come to fruition.

He is wonderful. He is amazing. He’s probably my favorite character all of fiction, and I don’t think there will ever be a day in my life that I stop loving him. That’s pookie you’re talking about. I’ll always have space in my heart for him.

He will live on as long as we do, as real as The Man From Hjemdall is to Roy because Disco Elysium *made* him real, handcrafting him, giving him life between margins and pixels. And that is worth everything.

Kim Kitsuragi is a fascinating character because there's not that much fun or interesting or compelling about him. And yet somehow over the course of playing Disco Elysium the game rewires your fucking brain around him. He's the middest man you've ever seen in both appearance and personality but at some point he says something kind to you or something critical of you and you feel like you just got hit by a truck and you need his approval like you need oxygen and like how tf did this happen. what are you

[cheralith]

childhood bestfriend!kaiser who accidentally finds out who you gave your first kiss to after being under the impression you still had it.

sure, you both were reaching an age where most people had already kissed another, been bedded, under-age drank, but kaiser never took you as the type to be so… promiscuous (“your dad was okay with it?” he had asked. “why the hell would i tell my dad about that.” your eye roll had never been louder.)

it was apparently some classmate you had dated briefly back in early high school, a time where you had both were barely able to see each other since kaiser spent some time in jail after being framed and after being bailed out by his manager, spent the majority of his time in his team’s training clubhouse. it didn’t help that it was quite a few towns away from your own, so communication grew weary between you and him during that time.

so when you and him finally reconnected and began to settle down with each other once again at an older age, where you and him were blooming into college, he’s amazed to see how much you had grown during the past few years, how your featured had matured into themselves so elegantly that sometimes, when you weren’t looking, he’d examine each bit of your features to get a proper look.

it was a little difficult attempting to gain a proper stance from him, since all the training at bastard mündchen had clearly done a work on him both good and bad, but when kaiser felt himself relaxing more and more with each frequented interaction with you—he’s brought back to when you were both children and didn’t know any better of the world around you.

so imagine his shock when you accidentally let it slip out that your first kiss went rather wrong as you and him are watching some sort of foreign sports movie where the main character’s long-time love interest finally kisses him.

“god i remember my first kiss,” you say casually, making kaiser snap his neck towards you so fast.

first kiss? you had your first kiss already? before he did???

sure, kaiser had a good amount of fans that flocked to him every chance they got and perhaps he’s done a little bit of entertaining to them, but even so—he still hasn’t necessarily had such a moment shared with another. he never felt like he needed to focus on it… never felt like it was some deed worth prioritizing becoming the best striker… until now.

“huh?” kaiser shuffles in his place and furrows his brows tightly, a vein barely visible from his forehead. “whaddya mean first kiss? with who? when?”

the questions shoot out all at once, you can’t help but laugh at kaiser’s (supposed) curiosity. you suppose the suspense of knowing what happened to that runt he met at eight years old has experienced since his arrest.

“oh, it was just a classmate from one of my sophomore classes,” you wave a hand, as if it was completely nothing to hold much regard to.

kaiser twitched, his eyes flickering towards your ripened lips. “and you gave him your first kiss?”

“probably my last too,” you sigh out wearily, “haven’t really had much people interested in me since then.”

he fell silent, going to scan your face again once more as you fixated your gaze to the tv, circling in on your lips again that give a soft pout. he twitched.

“he got too excited and ended up moreso clashing his mouth on mine—we ended up clacking teeth pretty hard,” you snort out as you stare in quiet amazement at how tender and soft the tv’s couple’s kisses were. “it ended up hurting too much to try and continue.”

you bite your lip, concentrated. “i dunno, i just wish it was more slowly, more… in-the-moment.”

kaiser twitched once more. noticing your wistful gaze at the movie playing in front of you and him. he flickers his eyes toward the intimate scene that you seem so focused on. he pays attention to how the lips of the two characters flow in a certain rhythm and how they meld into each other. they seem loose, relaxed, and that lack of tension made the kiss seem much more romantic.

he thinks back to some of how his teammates greet their girlfriends with kisses, or how he’ll just see a random couple locking lips with each other in the bars his team and him tended to as a celebration of a victorious game. kaiser had never felt a compulsion to experience such a thing, but there’s a strange magnetic feeling he’s getting that tugs him closer to you that is very much not his own rationale’s doing.

he says it with too much confidence. he says it like he’s done it numerous times before, like he’s a master at it, despite never even paying such avid attention to another’s lips until now. so kaiser doesn’t know why, but he suddenly blurts out,

“then let me show you a proper kiss.”

[deonsx]

i saw you were taking requests o((>ω< ))o

i hc yukimiya, kaiser, and oliver to have the comfy but stylish fashion sense(lol), can i request them with reader who has a darker style like goth or vkei?

Hiii dear!! firstly in the event i write the characters I will write and unfortunately just kaiser here (I only write characters whose behavior I understand, so I can imagine them, but I don't have enough information about the others sorry(´-ω-`) lets add sae

Kaiser Michael

Kaiser, ever the center of attention with his magnetic charisma and effortlessly stylish flair, strolls confidently through the crowd. By his side is you the striking contrast to his golden aura. Your dark, layered outfit, inspired by a fusion of gothic elegance and visual kei extravagance, turns just as many heads. Your presence radiates mystery, drawing curious glances wherever you walk together

Kaiser grins, adjusting the collar of his jacket as he leans closer to you “I swear, people are staring at us because of me” he teases, his voice dripping with smug amusement “Or maybe they’re just not used to seeing someone as stylish as me with someone so… darkly radiant”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smirking “Or they’re wondering why a golden retriever is trying to keep up with a black panther” The playful jab makes his grin widen “Touché, mein dunkler Stern”

The two of you pause at a stall selling handmade accessories. Kaiser’s eyes gleam as he spots a black lace choker adorned with a silver crescent moon. He picks it up, holding it toward you “This would suit you” he declares with absolute confidence, then adds with a teasing smirk “But you’d look even better wearing something of mine”

You snort, crossing your arms. “You mean like your ego? Sorry, it’s a bit too heavy for my neck”Undeterred, Kaiser steps closer, lowering his voice “Keep talking, and I might just buy it for you anyway. A perfect gift for my perfect little shadow”

The faintest blush creeps up your neck, and you quickly divert your attention to another stall. But Kaiser follows, his laughter soft but triumphant as he takes his place beside you, unfazed by your aloof demeanor

As the night continues, you find yourself grudgingly enjoying his over-the-top compliments and relentless attempts to get a smile from you. By the time you leave, he’s carrying several small items he insisted on buying for you a delicate ring, a black-embroidered scarf and of course the choker

Sae Itoshi

Sae walks in, exuding his usual cool, detached confidence. Dressed in his signature minimalist yet high-end fashion, he glances around with faint disinterest, his sharp eyes scanning the room for anything worthy of his attention. Then he notices you

You stand near a dimly lit display of abstract sculptures, your goth or visual kei-inspired attire making you an arresting contrast to the sterile white walls and muted tones of the gallery. Your layered outfit is a work of art itself dark lace, leather accents, and intricate accessories that seem to tell a story all their own. The black polish on your nails gleams as you hold a glass of wine, your demeanor composed and enigmatic. Sae’s gaze lingers a moment too long

“Interesting taste” he comments, stepping closer. His voice is low and measured, as if he’s assessing the situation with the same precision he brings to the pitch. You glance at him, arching a brow “The art or me?”

He doesn’t flinch at your boldness. Instead, his lips curve ever so slightly a rare hint of amusement “Both, I suppose. Though one of them is harder to read” You tilt your head, intrigued but refusing to let him rattle you. “Let me guess you prefer things simple, minimal, and predictable”

Sae’s smirk grows “Not quite. I just appreciate when something stands out. Like this…” He gestures toward the piece you were studying a sleek, modern sculpture with jagged, chaotic edges “Or you”

You chuckle softly, meeting his intense gaze “Flattery from a guy like you? Color me impressed”Sae shrugs, his tone nonchalant but his eyes sharper than ever “It’s not flattery. Just an observation”

The two of you fall into an easy, if slightly sharp-tongued, conversation. Sae’s reserved demeanor contrasts with your dark, vibrant energy, but neither of you seem fazed. As the evening wears on, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to your unapologetic individuality, while you find his quiet intensity more captivating than you expected

Before the night ends, Sae leans in closer, his voice softer but no less confident “I don’t usually go to these things, but I’m glad I did tonight. You’re… different”

“Different how?” you ask, feigning disinterest but feeling your heart skip a beat. Sae’s gaze locks with yours, his smirk returning “Let’s just say you’re not as predictable as I expected. I’d like to see more of that”

Enjoy!

[flightyalrighty]

Hey you got an advices for a newbie who thinks about doing commissions? :>

And did you have any bad experiences? (You don't have to answer if it is too private)

I won't go into detail for any bad commission experiences, but I can at least tell you what I learned from em in the form of the advice you asked for:

PRICING! When figuring out pricing, ask yourself the following:

What is an hour of my work worth? This question helps you avoid underselling yourself aka selling under minimum wage. You're definitely worth more than that. $20 is a pretty good starting point for folks who aren't too confident in their own stuff.

How long does it take to complete an art piece? Create one sample of every type of commission you want to sell. Time yourself when you make them. Whatever amount of time it takes to create each piece multiplied by the hourly wage you've set for yourself is going to be your base price for each thing ($20 x 2 hours for a full body sketch = $40). You can also use the samples you've made to help advertise in your commission post and show your potential clients what it is they can expect from you!

How should I charge for add-ons? Once again, figure how long something takes, and shoot for something that seems both fair for you and the client. For extra characters or something like a background, for example, I charge an extra 50% of the base price.

PROBLEMATIC CLIENTS! Got a client that doesn't know what they actually want? Too wishy washy? Too nitpicky? There's a solution! Offer a limited amount of revisions. I offer two free ones, personally. Once the client is out of revisions, I charge them 20% for each additional revision, and I MAKE SURE THEY CAN SEE THAT ON THE FORM THEY FILL OUT. That way, clients are encouraged to get their WHOLE idea in order before going to you. No one wants to be charged extra for a mistake they made, after all -- And it's definitely their mistake if they leave out any details they later deem important and want you to fix.

THE AFOREMENTIONED FORM TO BE FILLED! I used Google Forms, personally. It makes your little business look a bit more professional AND it helps you keep track of multiple projects at once, while prompting the clients to give you the info you specifically need (like reference images). It's good!

BE PROFESSIONAL! You're more likely to get repeat customers if you maintain a professional customer service attitude while handling clients, and deliver your work as promptly as you can. Delivering work PROMPTLY is definitely something you need to imagine me circling and underlining. Please do your best to not take, like, a year? To complete a commission? It's a really bad look. Treat it like homework. Give yourself your own little due date to work with.

While we're on that! DEFINITELY send your clients WIPs while you work! Showing that you're making progress is a great way to get feedback from the client before it's too late to change anything, PLUS it keeps their mind at ease about the possibility of you potentially taking their money and running.

KEEP YOURSELF SAFE! Speaking of taking money and running, set up a system that works when it comes to charging clients and delivering the goods. I have been burned in the past and have learned from this. Some artists charge their clients upfront before delivering anything at all. Personally, I'm not a fan of this, because then it leaves the client open to feeling uneasy about possibly getting scammed. Obviously I'm not a scammer, but to lift the weight of that possibility on the minds of my clients, I charge half upfront and half upon completion. This way, I already have SOME money so the client isn't gonna "dine-and-dash" me, and the client, likewise, is holding the other half of the pay in a friendly self-imposed hostage situation. I do recommend this!

I also use Paypal to INVOICE my clients. This way, I have full control over the nature of what I'm charging and can avoid the client accidentally (or maliciously) sending a payment with something in there meant to get my Paypal account shut down. DO NOT WRITE JOKES ABOUT WHAT YOU'RE CHARGING YOUR CLIENT FOR. DO NOT GET YOURSELF IN TROUBLE FOR SOMETHING STUPID.

And this is all the advice I currently have on me! I hope it helps!

[laurellala-comics]

I've been having so much fun with my Ace Attorney comics lately but I've been feeling the pull to do original stuff again. So to ease into the transition, here is my (very first!) comedy zine. You may spot some familiar faces B)

Thanks for reading my goofiness! I'm including some nerd thoughts about zines under the cut

Zines are sooo cool and I assume most people have heard of them since this is tumblr BUT if you haven't! Zine is short for magazine (pronounced "zeen" it does not rhyme with vine). It usually refers to handmade pamphlets that can be created by folding and cutting a single sheet of paper, which is what I did, but it can be used for any sort of self made publication. The goal is to make something that can be reprinted and shared so mine is technically not in the spirit of that because of all my little interactive details but shh that's fine. Zines have been used in sooo many ways (Was Martin Luther's 95 theses not in a way the first zine (this is a joke)) but they are especially recognized as part of the punk movement as a way of fighting back against mainstream media and of sharing information around! It was a way to get around censorship and spread the word about social movements and political messages buuuut it has also always been used to share fun things, like music recommendations OR FAMOUSLY. STAR TREK SPOCK KIRK FAN FICTION (this is real and there are academic papers about this). Some of the earliest m/m fanfic was passed along through zines because they did not have ao3 back then! All they had was a typewriter and a dream! It's actually sooo silly, but I took a class in college that heavily emphasized these zines as leading to the fandom culture we had today, so they really did shape the world we live in today. Tumblr posts are like our own little zines that we share, with our own messages and thoughts and yes even hand drawn gay people...

Anyway, like I mentioned, in these fandom spaces you had queer zines that were about explicitly romantic and sexual relationships between fictional men. At the time, slash shipping was not the most common way to engage with fandom, but today it has become very mainstream and widely accepted amongst the fandom. But you know what queer behaviors are still not mainstream within fandom spaces, even within queer fandom spaces? Aro ace rep babyyyy. With that in mind, I feel like what is considered radical and abnormal these days in queer fandom spaces is to engage with fictional men (or any characters) from an aromantic or asexual lens. And so I am here to hold your hand and walk you through the wonderful radical world of imagining non-romantic scenarios with fictional guys. You can have so much fun with it and I think more people should do it. What if you stood in line at the bank and your favorite anime man was in front of you. What if you had to go in for jury duty and the guy from five nights at freddy's was there. What if you went to the library and spock and kirk were both there researching the history of zines. In a world that expects us to prioritize one normative romantic and sexual relationship as the big thing that will bring you happiness and fulfillment, it is radical to say "actually, i could probably still be really happy and fulfilled if i had some cool friends to hang out with and do mundane things with. And also what if those friends were fictional lawyers."

Anyway. Thank you to all the spirk shippers who worked hard to get us here, I will pick up your mantle and continue to push against societal norms but with fewer sex scenes this time around. Not that you aren't valid for that, this is just personal preference. The end. Go make a zine everybody.

[curiouspupsicle]

Good Omens Fan Fiction Friday (1/10/25) - "Mixed" AU Fics

Okay, this is a weird theme. But it occurs to me that some of my fave fics have been tales where one of our ineffable pair is mortal while the other remains a supernatural being. It's a rich starting point for fiction. And it brings some creative results.

Let's start off with The Scarecrow (M) by AppleSeeds in which a lonely Aziraphale inherits a 14th century home. One night, the scarecrow he's been talking to in the field mysteriously appears in his bedroom. It's a little spooky with a sweet ending. Also by AppleSeeds is Ghost (T) in which Crowley finds a posh ghost sharing his flat. Said ghost is apparently worried about him and makes him dinner and draws him relaxing hot baths. Imaginative story with a surprising ending.

I'll admit this next pick gave me pause. I avoided it for a long time before reading thanks to the explicit rating, presence of a sleep paralysis demon, and the dub consent tag. But when I took a chance, Be Still, My Love, Be Still (E) by @entanglednow quickly became a fond favorite. It's amazingly tender. And the writer finds a creative way to incorporate consent into a relationship where one party is paralyzed and unable to speak. I highly recommend this lovely story.

Want some demon/human fluff? Check out Blue Roses (G) by NotEvenCloseToStraight. The demon Crowley owns a flower shop across from a cute bookshop owner. He "talks" the flowers into behaving in a way that will ensure he gets a shot at making the relationship progress.

The monarch of comic asides, @wyvernquill, gives us a crossover with a famous musical in The Serpent of the Opera (T). The wily Phantom, er Serpent, kidnaps Eden Opera House's bookkeeper, Aziraphale. Hilariously oblivious Aziraphale assumes it was so he could play matchmaker for the Serpent with his true love. Loads of laughs. Fun to see the extremes to which denial can go. In 21 Grams (T) by @hakunahistata, Hell gives 7-year-old orphan Anthony the ability to see demons. As you can imagine, he's terrified. But he gets help from angel Aziraphale after praying. So thankful to @addledmongoose for suggesting this. I absolutely love it.

Aziraphale buys a cottage for a great price in @commodorecliche 's in the house we remain (M). But the books authored by a former owner, Anthony Crowley, who died on the property, keep turning up in surprising places. A sweet, ghost love story.

Crowley finds Aziraphale working in a library on earth after losing track of him a year after leaving the bookshop in Among the Stacks (NR) by MeinirRhos. But Aziraphale doesn't remember being an angel. And is apparently mortal? Of course, Crowley has no choice but to love him anyway. The opening line: "What do you wear to mourn when all you ever wear is black?" Yep. lots of angst but a happy ending.

My final choice is a fandom classic beloved by many. So if you haven't read it, I highly recommend the series, Pray for Us, Icarus (G & T) by Atalan. Crowley becomes human and reincarnates over 300 years. Aziraphale tries to restore Crowley to his immortal, demonic status but only ends up hurting them both. It will break your heart. And heal it by the end. I promise.

Did I miss your favorite tale of a mortal/supernatural pairing for our adorable Good Omens characters? Share in the comments. More recommendations each Friday--follow and reblog if you like what you see.

[skyartworkzzz]

Have couple pieces of kindred lore

Their appearance changes depending on the region of the world, depending on how people there imagine death to look like, the collective belives of people changing how they look

Its hevily implied in their quotes that they were once one spirit of death that "split himself right down the middle" so he would never be lenely again

Lamb often tells Wolf stories to distract him from his endless hunger

while Kindred is the most known spirit of death, being known in all regions, they arent the only one. There are many death spirits that are more localized with lesser influence

Kindred also isn't THE Death, there exist a primordial being as old as the world known as the Mask Mother. She doesn't interact with mortals at all but she is the one who created Kindred along with all other death spirits. She is the god of death to other gods of death

KINDRED LORE YUMMY YUMMY YUMMY I LOVE THEIR CHARACTER PLENTY DUDE 😭😭😭💜💜💜

Their relationship is so cute,,,, the fact one of them were created so they wouldnt be lonely again is very Narilamb core to me nobody can tell me otherwis-

As for the Mask Mother u spoke of I did take liberty in making my own........interpretation

Hehe

[lucius-morningstar]

Vaggie is not a bad girlfriend.

I know there are some Vaggie haters out there and don't get me wrong I understand why. But you're hating her for the wrong reasons. Her character wasn't completely fleshed out right in my opinion and I think that's why so many people hate her character. She's a dependent and honestly can you blame her? Her entire life was killing sinners under the guise of helping heaven. She leaned on other sisters who were said to be "just like her." She depended on them because they were the only family she knew. That WE know of. Imagine being so close to someone and you make a decision out of complete mercy for someone else. Someone you see as innocent and in doing that, you're severely punished and abandoned by people you considered family. I could even say Vaggie has a touch of Stockholm syndrome but Charlie doesn't do this intentionally. You basically took two broken girls who suffer from abandonment issues and expected them to be stable. Let's be real for a couple in hell with abandonment issues, Stockholm syndrome, dependency issues, ect and they actually do come off to be the most healthy if not for one obvious factor. Vaggie's hidden past. Now let me be clear, the Stockholm syndrome bit is obviously not intentionally. Charlie is just doing her best to be helpful and help her out and in doing that Vaggie had a deep dependency in her. So much so that being honest about her past put her into possibly sever panic attacks. I wouldn't be surprised if Vaggie had tried and would have mental break downs because of it. After all, the people she knew she could trust with everything saw her, heard her spare someone and their reaction was to rip everything from her and leave her for the worst fate possible. Could you picture what could have happened if Vox, Alastor or hell forbid Valentino found her instead of Charlie. Especially Alastor of all people, imagine someone with Vaggie's determination and loyalty behind Alastor's command. Instead she was shown true kindness in a place that was suppose to hurt her, where the place that was known for good and kindness hurt her beyond words. Yes, she fucked up. She hid a lie for almost four years. I can understand every reason both parties have for being afraid/hurt and betrayed in a sense. Vaggie despite being in the best place never truly mentally healed from her pain. Not until her meeting with Carmilla did she truly accept her actions and move on for it thus gaining her wings back. Yes you could say it was her desire to protect her girlfriend but I also believe it was an acceptance that her way wasn't going to help in the long run.

Vaggie did everything she could to try and make up for the wrong she did, her not telling Charlie wasn't just hiding but it was her own silent torture. She believed she deserved to be hated and the idea of Charlie loving her despite her actions was far more insane then redemption itself. So in not telling her, she tortured herself further. Believing she did not deserve to be forgiven and every loving gesture, gentle kiss, touch was another knife in her heart telling her she deserved none of it and her guilt was her punishment. Vaggie was in her own personal hell, in her eyes, being loved over a lie. Not being able to tell the truth despite wanting too, her guilt and self loathing pushing her deeper into a pit she couldn't get out of alone. So her response was to push herself out of her comfort zone for Charlie, for the one person who truly showed her true kindness and love no matter what would happen to Vaggie, she'd do anything if it meant Charlie was happy, if it meant she could be forgiven for what she viewed as HER sins. Vaggie is not a bad girlfriend, She literally went to someone who had been confirmed to have murdered an exorcist. The value of her life is so low to her and all she clearly cares about is Charlie getting what she needs. if anything she's bad at self love and she's slowly working her way to loving herself as much as she loves Charlie. That's where I feel her arc is going, being better for herself and for Charlie. Sorry for the rant. Feel free to add your own comments, I obviously forgot some things xD Just went off on a rant about this cause I honestly despise all the hate Vaggie gets, as a girlfriend and as a character.

[katiehwang]

Okay I know I’ve been real silent in the fandom lately (can you blame me?) and I’m probably not coming back until Gosho do something about the main plot, but I just randomly remembered this scene:

I just— can you imagine how Heiji was feeling? Other detectives were questioning his method, basically calling him out on his character the same way his own father did ( I think Heizo did mentioned he’s too hot-headed).

Thus, in this situation he asked Shinichi, his bestfriend — and probably his idol too in detective work — if he was the wrong one. And Shinichi, Shinichi, he’s just so good to Heiji. He had never doubted him, there was no hesitation in his answer. He did not offer Heiji comfort, and did not even defend him, but when Heiji asked, he answered with confidence and with that smirk. (I love that smirk it’s basically him saying he’s right).

I did wonder why Shinichi did not defend him earlier. However, even if he did, what good will that do? Hakuba was set in his own way, Shinichi was stuck in a body of a child, and I wonder if he did not bother at all because he did not think Heiji needs it? Just like Hakuba was set in his own method, so was Heiji. He is hot-headed yeah but it never was to the point where he endanger someone’s life or disrupt the crime scene. We all know he’s a good detective, Shinichi knows it, and Heiji knows it too.

I just love how Shinichi’s confidence in him probably assured Heiji a little bit (or a LOT, that’s his bro there). There was never any “I do agree with you but I guess you could have done it differently���” etc. Heiji asked if what he did was wrong and Shinichi smirked his all-knowing-smirk and said “Nope, not at all.” . That’s like the best assurance you can hear from the bro you look up to. Oh and let’s be real if Hakuba saw how Shinichi conduct his own investigation he would be frothing at the mouth too.

In conclusion, this scene is so OLD yet it suddenly hit me with feels and I love this two so much I just had to share my thoughts on it XD.

[sweetbillwriting]

Way Out of Line

THREE

Beneath my perfume and make-up I'm just a baby in disguise. And though I know that it's wrong to be alone with him that "come on look" is in my eyes.

Character: Keith Toshko from Barbarian (2022) played by Bill Skarsgård.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: This will not be everyone's cup of tea. And I'm a rookie haha.

I followed the movement of his soft lips, and instead of feeling the excited urgency, I felt my body become mush in his arms, and my sex pulsed in the same rhythm. I moaned into his mouth, and I could feel him smile.

“That's it, honey…” he whispered encouragingly between kisses, and it made me giggle. It was something about how he guided me that was both sexy but also domineering. It was overwhelming to kiss him, to be so close to him in a way I hadn't been with my ex-boyfriend, Tim. There was a feeling in my chest that slowly spread to my limbs and made me feel dirty in all sorts of ways, and after a while the negative feelings took over. This was not me. I wasn't the type of girl who kissed married men, especially a man much older than me. I had always been the boring girl, who didn’t push the rules. I released his lips with a smack, and he looked at me with big eyes. He must have noticed my change of emotions.

“I'm sorry,” he said, fast and pulled away. I looked down at the ground, but I could see his feet nervously move. “I should go…”

I didn't look up and didn't say anything because suddenly I felt so uncomfortable and shy about it all. I was not a sexual person, and he was old. He really was old. He could have had children my age. I heard him leave my room, and I breathed out in relief. It was not a good idea; still, I could feel a pain between my legs, like a frustrated cramp. The shame got even worse. It was filthy and heavy in my chest. He was my dad's friend; it wasn't okay.

It was hard to sleep after that moment with Keith, and the anxiety crept around in my body like hungry insects, especially because I could still feel the pressure between my legs. I ran to the bathroom every fifteen minutes in the belief that I needed to pee, but I didn't need that relief; I needed an intrusion. I had never really masturbated, but after having laid with my legs crossed without being able to release the pressure, I needed something more effective; I needed something inside me. I didn't have the knowledge to make myself come, but it was enough to be penetrated for me to finally be able to sleep, even if I felt dirty by my own sexual feelings. I didn't want to feel what I did, so I tried to deny them. They weren't real; they were not me, just something my brain created after a bit too much alcohol.

×××

I had a weird feeling in my body when I started to wake up, like a nagging feeling of forgotten anxiety, and even if I wanted to ignore it, I started to search in my brain for the answer. At first I couldn't remember it, but when I moved and realized my panties were off and I just laid in my tank top, I remembered how I had slipped a finger deep inside of me to be able to sleep. I remembered the passionate kisses with Keith that had made me so sexually frustrated I had humped my own hand. It all was so dirty and shameful, and I looked down at my hand, disgusted by how deep my fingers had been in me. I tried to tell myself it was a one-time thing and stood up from bed even if I didn't have panties on. I couldn't even see them, and for a second I imagined Keith had crept into my room and stolen them, but it was then I found them tangled in my cover. I put them on, just to have something on, on my way to the bathroom to take a shower. Just like Christianity had told me, I tried to wash my sins away; I tried to scrub away my dirty thoughts and massage away every shameful feeling. It did kind of work, and I decided that I would forget about it all and leave it all behind. I fooled myself into believing I could do that and got myself to forget Keith actually lived in the house.

It wasn't that easy to move on when the man in my dirty imaginations sat by the kitchen table, eating egg and bacon with my father. He was there, and as soon as I saw him, I forgot my thoughts were sinful and embraced them instead of denying them. I didn't care if I was dirty, I didn't care if he was my dad's friend or that he was older than me. I remembered the image of his bulge in his sweatpants and thought about how his cock looked hard. I wanted him inside of me instead of my short fingers.

“Hey, honey, come and sit down with us,” said my dad who patted the chair next to him. There was a setting for one more person, and it was probably for me because my mom most often ate earlier than me and my dad. My dad was dressed in a comfortable jogging set, but Keith was dressed in jeans and a black zip hoodie. His hair was styled back, and it could be so that he had plans to go out that day. We glanced at each other quickly, but both of us looked away, and I sat down next to my dad, who gave me a side hug and patted my cheek.

“Slept well?” He asked and started to put up eggs on my plate. He knew I didn't eat bacon. I looked away, uncomfortable with the question, but gave him a low, “yeah.”

“Do you have any plans for today?”

He didn't ask me about my New Year's celebration or if I had been drinking; for him, it was probably obvious I had been a good girl and that Mom exaggerated.

“Um, I think I’ll just have a movie marathon…”

My dad grimaced, and I looked at him confused.

“What?”

“I'm sorry honey, but Disney doesn't work at the moment…”

“What?” I asked with a whiny voice. My dad looked at me almost in shame and played with one of my long locks that fell forward over my light yellow robe.

“I know, I can't log in and—”

“You can use my account,” said Keith suddenly, and by reflex I looked at his handsome face even if I didn't want to. He licked his lips that were shiny with grease, and he gave me a fast look before looking down at his bacon again. “Is there something special you want to see?”

“She always starts the new year with hopeful movies, right, honey? So Peter Pan and Alice in Wonderland?” My dad said with a smirk. I just nodded a little. Maybe my choice of movies also was childish and embarrassing, but Disney was such a natural part of my life I didn't think of it like that. I looked at Keith again. He had a stubbly top lip, and a strand of his hair didn't want to be a part of his slicked-back hairstyle and fell down in his eyes. He was too handsome to be a friend of my father's. He was way too handsome to want to kiss me. But he had.

“Thank you…” I mumbled and took the juice pitcher so I wouldn't need to look at him.

“We will go into town soon; Keith has a meeting, and I need to buy some things. Your mom is out with Felice, so you will be alone for a while. But I guess you can handle that? Now when you have Disney?”

“Yes, daddy,” I said and smiled at him. I could hear that I sounded like a ten-year-old, but we had that sort of relationship, so it was hard for me to stop. My dad always worried about me, and I was always eager to please him. Keith cleared his throat, but I didn't dare to look at him, and I wondered if he judged me for my polite behavior towards my father. He probably regretted that he had kissed someone like me, a silly girl.

×××

“You can fly!” Shouted the kids in Peter Pan while I sat stretched out on the couch with a bowl of ice cream in my lap. I still wore just pajamas even if it was 3 pm. I giggled a bit to myself when I thought about how many times I had pretended to be Lena, waiting for Peter Pan to come through my window. My biggest wish had been to never grow up. I had a nice time being alone and had no problems with it, so I was a bit disappointed when I heard the front door open.

“I'm so sorry, Keith, really. Do you want anything to eat or something?” Said my mom with worry. I turned down the sound in curiosity and tried to listen closely. It sounded like there were several feet in the hallway, and I could hear my dad clear his throat.

“No…” said Keith with a wobbly voice and sniffled. “I think I'm going to bed for a while… But thank you.”

It was obvious Keith was crying, and it made my throat dry up and start to scratch. There was something about hearing him like that that made me uncomfortable in so many ways, and I noticed how my hands were shaking too. I listened to him walking up the stairs slowly, but also my dad's deep exhalation after Keith had closed the bedroom door.

“Shit, Giselle… I really thought they would get together again,” said my father with a low voice, so low I almost didn't hear him. My mom's reply I actually couldn’t hear because she was whispering. I paused the movie and laid my hand on my chest. My heart was beating hard, and the dry feeling in my throat was now a painful barbed wire string from my heart up to my mouth. I understood what was happening, but I wanted to know more, so carefully I walked out to my parents in the hallway. My mom was hanging up Keith's bomber jacket while my dad was sitting down on the bench we had by the door. Both of them looked up at me when I tiptoed out to them.

“What's happening?” I asked, pretending like I hadn't heard as much as I had. My mom opened her mouth to say something, but my dad interrupted her.

“He got served with the divorce papers… So he is, of course, really upset.”

I nodded a little bit and looked down at the ground. I tried to keep my facial expressions in check because I was the only one of us three that knew Keith had been with another woman just the night before: me.

“Can you keep an eye on him?”

I heard what my dad said, but at first I couldn't understand the words and what he meant by them.

“Huh?” I looked at him confused and played with the thin bands of my tank top.

“We need to go grocery shopping. Can you take care of him?”

“Like how?” I asked, and I could feel my cheeks heat. My parents must have noticed, but they didn't understand why they became so rosy and must have made their own conclusions.

“Just check if he wants something if he comes out of the room. Nothing more than that.”

I nodded, and my dad gave me a thankful smile. They put on their outerwear again and left me alone with Keith. Their little girl and their old friend. They didn't have a thought, or even a half thought, that something could happen; that their little girl wasn't so innocent and the friend wasn't so trustworthy.

I continued to watch Peter Pan, but my thoughts drifted away to Keith over and over. I felt sorry for him and wondered if I should do something, but I was also afraid he would come down, and that I would need to comfort him. I thought about the night before, and in the light of day, I wasn't ashamed of it. I wasn't ashamed I had wanted him. Now I wasn't ashamed that he was married either because he would divorce, and the rest I could pretend were trivialities. I wanted him but I was scared of how much. I had never felt those sorts of feelings before, and it was frightening to feel how much I could lose myself in them.

“Hey…”

I turned to the doorway where Keith walked into the large room. His eyes were brimmed with red, but he wasn’t crying. He could have just been really tired, but I knew he wasn't, and the sniffle also exposed him.

“Hey…” I repeated and moved my legs and the blanket so that he could sit down on the other end of the couch. He sighed deeply and turned his gaze towards the TV. Something told me he just didn't want to be alone, so I didn't say anything, and just let him watch the ticking crocodile. I looked at him carefully a couple of times, and he smiled a little at the TV, and that made me smile too. After 20 minutes I dared to look at him completely, and he looked back at me and scratched his neck.

“Are you okay?” I asked carefully and sat up a bit better on the couch. Keith also sat up a little and took off his zip hoodie revealing the black t-shirt he wore underneath.

“Yeah… I knew this would happen. I just… It's a lot to take in, you know?”

I didn't know. How should I know? I had never been married, and my only relationship had ended when I was eighteen because Tim felt it became too serious, but I nodded anyway. Keith breathed heavily and dragged his hands over his thighs over and over. Something with his behavior made me feel braver, and I removed the blanket from my legs and scooted closer to him.

“Do you need a hug?”

Keith turned his eyes towards me, and for a moment we stared at each other intensely. As I sat next to him, I could see how he looked down over my body, especially my hardened nipples under my top. He looked up at me again and then moved my hair away so it fell behind my shoulders. He looked down at my chest again, this time more obviously. Just like the night before, a foreign feeling took over me that made me more confident and daring, so I pulled down one of the straps of my tank top slowly revealing one of my naked breasts for him to see. I looked him straight in the eyes while I did it and saw his eyes fall down to my chest when my nipple was exposed. Keith looked up at my eyes again and moved so he sat more towards me.

“You're such a beautiful girl…” His voice was low and raspy, and he laid his hand on my neck with his thumb on my jugular. I could feel the pressure between my legs grow again when he dragged his lips over mine sensually.

“My beautiful baby girl…” he whispered, putting some pressure over my neck. I moaned into his mouth when he kissed me and I laid my hands on his thick thighs. His hand moved down from my neck to my chest, and he released my lips to be able to look at his long fingers playing with my nipple.

“I've noticed your nipples are always so hard... Is it because you think so many dirty thoughts?” He looked up at me with a smirk and pinched my nipple hard. A pained groan left my lips, but the feeling also travelled down between my legs and made it hammer quickly. I didn't know what to say, so I let him kiss me again while my breast disappeared in his wide palm. His other hand held my head and steered me into every kiss. He used more and more tongue which made me feel that overwhelming feeling again. I was a good girl, but something took over me and gave me feelings I had learned to feel shame about. I was horny. I was so horny and wanted him in the dirtiest ways.

I dragged my hand over his crotch and could feel there was something alive under the denim. There was something moving in there. Keith pulled back a little so I could watch while he unbuckled his belt with a jiggle. I couldn't look away; I didn't want to look away. I wanted to see it. I wanted to see his cock. I thought of the word in my head: “cock.” I had never said it, but I knew I would call it that. He had a cock. My ex-boyfriend had a “penis.” Sometimes a “dick,” when I wanted to sound more relaxed, but I knew Keith had a cock.

He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down to the floor so that he wore just a pair of white boxers that didn't hide at all what was under them. I could see something long and thick and big balls being restrained under the tight material. Keith dragged a hand over the thick member causing the fabric to stretch even tighter. I could see veins and the shape of the head. I couldn't look away even if I felt I was blushing down to my chest.

“Have you seen one before?” He asked softly. His voice didn't match how dirty he looked with his legs wide apart and his cock trying to break free from the thin fabric. I just replied with a nod because my voice had disappeared at the same time my pussy had gotten wetter and wetter.

“You're not a virgin?” He asked and took hold of my chin so we could look each other in the eyes. I shook my head, and he looked at me with furrowed brows.

“I want you to talk to me. Hmm? Can you talk to me, baby girl?” He asked, pinching my nipple hard. I didn't know if that was some sort of punishment for not talking or if he just wanted to wake me up, but he got me to make a sound and then nod.

“I can talk…”

“Are you a virgin?” He asked again. I wondered why he asked that twice while I looked at him doe-eyed.

“No. I had a boyfriend.”

Keith nodded and gave me a soft kiss. He continued to kiss me softly, which made me relax. I felt safe with him, and when he leaned back and looked at me with kind eyes, I felt I needed to tell him something.

“It was a long time ago… And he was nothing like you. I… It feels new with you. You make me feel things…” Keith smiled a little and pulled me up on his lap. My pussy was pressed against his balls, and I could feel the hammering start again. I looked down at his crotch, seeing the thick line. Was it really that big?

“Do you want to see?” He asked, taking a hold of my chin again so I would look up at him. I looked between his eyes and lips, and that made him lean forward so I could press my lips against his again. I invaded his mouth with my tongue, but he slowed me down again when he took hold of my neck.

“Slow down, honey…”

My hands laid on his chest as I blushed. The feelings were everywhere, and I felt that intense pressure between my legs again. I was forced to sit down on his thigh and press myself hard against him.

“Does your little pussy hurt?” I looked up at him and nodded. Somehow it had become so much of an embarrassment that I worried it would be a permanent feeling. Keith sat up and shifted me from his lap, so I stood between his legs. He dragged his big hands over my hips and then took hold of my pajama pants and panties with his index finger. He looked up at me with a smile.

“Can I take them off?”

I nodded a little, too mesmerized by him and drunk on newly discovered feelings. Carefully he pulled them off, and I stepped out of them, so I stood in just my strappy top. Keith took my hands in his so I wouldn't be able to conceal myself when he leaned back. Now it was him who looked overwhelmed, and I could see his cock twitch.

“Completely shaved?”

“Yeah?”

“That was…” He cleared his throat and stared between my legs like he hadn't seen a woman naked before. “It was a long time ago… Can I touch?” He looked up at me with those big puppy eyes, and to my own surprise, I sat down over his legs. Straddling him with the soles of my feet pressed against the outside of his thighs. He could see everything.

A loud moan fell from his lips just by the sight of me like that as he dragged a hand over and over his member.

“Is this just for me?” He whispered, running his hands on the inside of my thighs. “Or do you give yourself to other men like this?”

I shook my head.

“Just you. You make me crazy.”

“Yeah?” Keith leaned forward and kissed my knee, then the inside of my thigh.

“I don't know what's happening with me…”

Keith smiled sweetly, then he turned his full attention to my pussy again. Carefully he put two fingers against me, shaped like a V, and massaged my outer lips, feeling my smooth skin. He breathed heavily, and after a while he let his middle finger drag between the lips, collecting my wetness. I could feel him stroke a spot higher up that made my whole body tingle, but to my disappointment, he just dragged his fingertip there teasingly. Instead, his goal was to penetrate me with his finger, and I wasn't all prepared for how rough he would do it. His fingers were long and thick, so when he pushed it in quite violently, my entrance cramped up at first and the pain shot out to my limbs.

“So tight... So tight...” he whispered. I had closed my eyes from the shock, but when he had started to pump his middle finger in and out of me in an even rhythm, I opened my eyes. The image before me shocked me because Keith had pulled out his thickness and jerked himself off in the same rhythm that he finger fucked me in. He was even bigger when I saw his cock like that, even while his big hand held it. He let his finger slip out of me and looked at me with such a sweet expression it was hard for me to not giggle.

“What?” He asked, showing off his deep dimple in his cheek. I giggled again, and he dragged his hands over my thighs. After having been watching each other for a while, he moved me away from him. The thought of him being pleased and finished stressed me, but he just pulled off his boxers completely so I could see his cock fully exposed. Had Tim been that big? Far from it. Did he really push that into girls? It wasn't possible. I continued to stare. I had just seen Tim's and had never really looked at it. I had chosen to never go down on him, and we had sex in the dark, but here I now sat next to a grown man that I had the feeling was quite well endowed. I wish I could say it was pretty, but a man's genitals were something else. It looked scary to me.

Keith smiled and pulled me closer so I could have my head against his shoulder, then he laid my hand on his thigh so I could decide myself if I wanted to touch.

“It's okay, honey, take your time…” he said and dragged his fingers through my hair. I looked up at him. It was so nice how sweet he was about it all and how much he took care of me. He really was such a man. I kissed him again and pushed my nose tip against his cheek. It felt like I was falling for him. That sweet, wonderful man. With his big cock. I looked down again and wrapped my fingers around him, feeling his girth and weight in my hand. Keith made a deep exhalation, but let me explore by myself. I dragged my hand all the way up to the head, feeling the mushroom tip against my palm. It was really wet, and I took the wetness in my hand when I dragged my hand all the way down to his balls. I looked at them a bit confused. I didn't know if I should touch them. I had never heard about that. I looked back at Keith, who sat with his head leaned back against the headrest, and he seemed to understand what I was wondering.

“I want you to play with them, roll them in your hands, squeeze them a bit carefully…” His voice was much deeper than before, so I looked at him with the biggest eyes. He smiled at me lovingly.

“You're so cute. Such a good girl.” I giggled a little at his praise and then looked down at his cock again, still in my hand.

I sat up a little so I could use both my hands, so with one hand I started to roll his balls in my hand; it felt a bit awkward, and Keith probably felt it too because he spoke up.

“Spit on them… Spit in your hands, baby...”

I looked at him confused, so instead he took my hands and pulled them towards his mouth where he spit several times into them. Long, watery saliva threads landed in my hands, but I wasn't grossed out. All of it was sexy in the heat of the moment. When I started to roll his balls in my hand again, they glided better, and with his hand over mine, we jerked his slick cock. He showed me the pressure he wanted. His breathing became more heavy with every stroke. I saw how his t-shirt had ridden up and how I could see a deep v-line but also a hint of abs. I leaned back looking at him with furrowed brows and how his wide chest rose and fell with each deep breath. He was so gorgeous. He was so sexy. I released his balls so I could touch myself, but when Keith noticed, he pulled me up over him and steered my pussy towards his cock.

“Take it. Fuck me.” He said it lowly, but I didn't dare. It was too big. “Take my cock. Take daddy's cock, baby girl.”

I looked at his face intensely, meeting his dark, lustful gaze. I wanted to but also didn't. I needed to make a decision. But not then and there, because when I looked out the window, I saw our neighbor Mr. Gardner look through the window, straight at us.

×

[avelera]

I expanded on this a bit on Twitter but I kinda wanted to talk about it here where people actually read my meta lol

I want to clarify that I think (Arcane) Jayce would eventually rise to the occasion. He always does.

I just think that Jayce has the most uniquely vulnerable situation if he theoretically went to Noxus, even when compared to every single other Arcane character. Yes, I'm including Heimerdinger and Cait. And here's why:

We've already seen Jayce get manipulated by not one but two Noxians, Mel and Ambessa. And Mel was nice about it! Jayce does eventually figure out Mel's manipulation of him but that's only after months of soul searching with literally nothing else to do (and then he APOLOGIZES to her, after eventually realizing too that Mel wasn't entirely to blame, just to be clear, but he ended the relationship over it IMO).

But Jayce is a unique example of the one character we've seen fall for Noxian manipulation more than once, with different Noxians. And, I would argue, there's nothing else in his arc to indicate he's gotten smarter about it, even at the end, other than figuring out Mel and only in relation to Hextech.

I don't think he's necessarily any better armed against Noxian manipulation after his arc, or manipulation in general. Another Noxian using slightly different tactics to get what they want from him would probably still work.

Jayce also has a unique combination of:

1) A relatively privileged background that makes him more trusting of others (unlike the Zaunite characters) and just being a nice guy in general, which lends to this.

2) An amount of self-confidence that he doesn't necessarily see manipulation coming because he generally tends to see himself as the primary mover of events in his own life which makes him a prime target for a master manipulator (like Ambessa when she masterfully pushed him into a sense of helplessness and rage that ended in his raid on the Shimmer factory). Not saying Jayce never feels helpless, he just has a background and personality that tends to see himself as able to regain control if he loses it and to see himself as a primary mover of his own destiny even when he's being puppetted

3) but most important: he has something Noxians would want and have wanted and would continue to want since we saw Swain's raven go for the gem in his hammer: Hextech. If Jayce went to Noxus, he'd be a target of EVERYONE THERE because of Hextech, either for weapons or for Hexgates. Or, if not Hextech, then the mind that created Hextech is still a worthy prize for anyone trying to get ahead there.

And funny enough, I think every other character in Arcane has more defenses than Jayce, even Cait, even Heimerdinger.

Heimerdinger may be naive but he's also 300+ years old and he's been around the block. I think Heimer's first response to being a target of manipulation in Noxus would be to get the fuck out of Noxus, I mean I can't imagine a country less suited to his whole deal, but he'd know to get out of there and he'd know to be on guard.

Cait post-S2 would be well equipped to recognize Ambessa's tactics in others, but even pre-S2, she's a detective used to reading people. Her instincts are stunted by the grief over her mother's death but she's clearly putting together that she can't trust Ambessa from the start. Cait despite also having a privileged upbringing like Jayce from the start has more tools at her disposal when it comes to understanding and analyzing people to have at least some prayer in Noxus, unlike Jayce the Engineer.

Then when you get to literally any Zaunite character, I think you get a healthy dose of suspicion towards outsiders to make them better able to defend themselves against Noxian manipulation or use.

Not saying it still couldn't happen, but a Viktor or a Vi would definitely be skeptical from the outset towards anyone trying flattery on them and would be immediately resistant to anyone using them for weapons or as fighters.

Jinx is too chaotic and slippery to be used, I'd argue, but she also in general just doesn't work well with others outside of long, long term relationships of trust (and even then). Really, anyone on the list of Zaunite character (Silco, Sevika, Ekko, etc.) just has that healthy dose of skepticism that I think at least puts them in a good position to be aware that everyone in Noxus is potentially looking for a way to use them.

But not Jayce. Oh, I don't think he's stupid, I definitely do not think he's stupid. But I think he could fall for, say, a two-man con, good cop/bad cop, once more obvious manipulator and a second person pretending to protect him from that person thus winning his trust, even in S2.

Now, I do want to add that one caveat to this, as I said, I think Jayce would rise to the occasion. He'd eventually figure out that he's being used and if it's for Hextech weapons, or weapons of any kind, he'd probably catch on sooner.

I think Jayce would probably, in an action story, turn around and drop-kick anyone trying to use him by countering them with his own flashy weapons and skills before long (say hello to this neat trebuchet he just built out of garbage and say goodnight, motherfucker).

I also think that his general demeanor would lull a manipulator into a false sense of security, until he boldly outplays them with him classic "Moving in very direct straight lines and fuck anyone who gets in the way" manner of dealing with intractable problems.

I actually think a "Jayce in Noxus" arc would be delicious, since we've already seen him played on his home turf, I'd like to see his incremental progress forward in figuring out how to be a more savvy player in the belly of the beast.

Alas, I can't imagine we'll be seeing him in an actual Noxus show but if you also are dying for "Jayce in Noxus" now, I'd highly recommend the "Break, repair" series by Lapsi, where the second installment involves just that.

My first impression of Noxus in Fortiche's style:

Oh, this country would have eaten Jayce Talis alive, huh?

[somepsychopomp]

A Fair Contest

So a little bit ago I drafted an idea for an AU where, instead of the golden apple saying 'to the fairest' it says 'to the most amorous king'

And instead of the ladies fighting over the apple, it's Zeus & Poseidon. In order to determine who exactly is the superior lover (and king + who gets bragging rights), the two brothers select one (un)fortunate mortal that both of them shall take to bed...

and the judge they select for their little contest is none other than Odysseus.

(Takes place pre-Trojan War. In fact there's basically no Trojan War to begin with. Also Odysseus is betrothed but not yet married to Penelope)

Consider this chapter 1 of this fic. I really hope I can finish it because I stayed up to almost 4 am writing this, which is amazing because I've been dealing with a major cold and writers block for a while now

Word Count: approx. 4400

There's no smut yet but I do confess to giving Ody a bubble butt. Also in a world where Ruthlessness never happened/is yet to happen... Poseidon has a thing for strong thighs & is absolutely smitten with Odysseus

Also in my head, I'm imagining Neal's character designs but I think I've kept it vague enough for now that you can imagine whatever designs you like

+++

The wedding had been a most splendid sight, with revelry among both men and gods. The small mortal king, Peleus, was of course honored to host such a wide variety of the gods and have them witness his union with the divine Thetis. Zeus gave the couple his own blessing and permitted Dionysus to pour out his strongest wine for the occasion. 

Well into the night, the attendees danced to a tireless band and feasted upon the finest foods available. Gods mingled with mortals, some sneaking off with a young maiden or cupbearer for some more illicit fun. 

All was going well until the first beam of daylight shone upon a pedestal that no guest noticed before, where a golden apple awaited. 

Curious onlookers clustered around it, wondering where it could have come from. The mortals believed the apple to be made of real gold, thinking it was a lavish wedding gift. The gods were equally mystified, knowing that something so perfect and beautiful could only be given by one of their own. Hera pursed her lips at the sight of it. 

The king of the gods made his way to the center of the crowd, the other guests parting for him with their eyes averted in deference. He regarded the apple with mild curiosity, having a treasury greater than all of Greece’s wealth upon Olympus. A ribbon was tied neatly to the apple’s stem with a message embroidered upon it. 

“To the most amorous king.”

Zeus chuckled at the oddity of this little present and moved to take the apple. 

Only for another hand to grab it at the very same moment. 

The two gods stared at each other. 

“What do you think you’re doing, dear brother?” Zeus asked, the smile falling from his face. 

Poseidon rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Taking my prize.”

“You?” Zeus said, his voice dripping with outrage, “You dare defy your king like this?”

Poseidon’s voice turned sharp and cold. “I am lord of the seas! The gift doesn’t say ‘to the king of the skies’, now does it? No, you read it yourself.”

The mortal guests, including King Peleus, began to make their quick exit from the venue. Some of the lesser gods were also making their sneaky escape, fearing the worst was about to come. 

Hera approached her husband and wrapped her arms around his own, “Darling, it’s just an apple. If you want one, I’ve got a whole orchard full.”

It was true that Gaea, the very earth itself, gave Hera a grove of enchanted apple trees as her wedding gift. The trees were immune to all illnesses and sprouted fruit of pure gold all year round. In all likelihood, this very apple was stolen from the Queen’s orchard.

The god-king’s most favorite child appeared at his other side in an attempt to soothe his growing rage, “Father, listen to Queen Hera. This is a trick meant to sew discord, nothing more.”

Zeus ignored his daughter Athena as if she weren’t there. 

“Let it go, my love.” Hera said, “After all, why have one apple when you could have hundreds?”

Zeus gave her a sharp look, his golden eyes burning with a harsh, radiant glow. The queen of the gods was so taken aback that she shrunk away under the weight of his glare. Zeus said, “I am the god of judgement! No matter how trivial of a token it is, I will not let my brother take what does not rightfully belong to him!” 

Poseidon threw his head back and laughed, not one to be daunted, “Oh, is that so? And how will you prove that it doesn’t belong to me, hm?”

He tossed the golden apple into the air, catching it in his other hand. Zeus bared his teeth and snatched Poseidon’s wrist, unwilling to let elder brother even hold the thing. 

It was now apparent to all the remaining gods what this was really about. 

Neither king would secede when their pride and egos were in jeopardy. For either of them, letting the other take the apple now, after they’ve already started bickering, would mean admitting they were the more feeble lord, a less competent lover. And such a slight against their reputations would never stand. 

“Ahem,” a voice said. 

A lovely woman with flawless bare skin for all the world to admire, a translucent shawl draped around her arms and roses in her pale tresses, stepped forward. 

Zeus barely spared her a glance. “What is it, Aphrodite?”

She smiled, though not without a hint of mischief in her eyes, “I think I have the solution to this little conflict of ours, one that will minimize any substantial damage to our family… or the known world.”

Zeus inclined his head in interest. Poseidon gave the goddess his ear, as well. Zeus let go of his brother and the sea god set the apple down. 

Athena bit her lower lip, knowing that Aphrodite’s schemes were almost never more than just that: schemes. Games to amuse herself with. She had something else in mind. 

Aphrodite snapped her fingers. A large, circular mirror gilded in silver and gold appeared in the air behind her. The surface rippled the same way a pond did when met with rainfall. 

A beautiful young maiden with a long braid of black hair tended to her garden. The image rippled and was replaced with what was clearly a princess being dressed for the day by her servants. Again, the image shifted and showed a handsome young man in a short chiton as he shepherded his flock of sheep. 

Aphrodite said, “Now, I’m sure you two could spend eternity bickering back and forth, boasting of your skills and past conquests, but as the goddess of love myself… why not have more of a practical examination?”

The two brothers exchanged a look, coming to the same conclusion. 

“You want us to share a lover?” Poseidon asked. 

Zeus added, “And have them decide?”

Aphrodite winked and gave them a cheerful smile. “Well, what do you say? There’s no shortage of pretty boys or girls across the land. Come, take your pick!”

Zeus stroked his beard, a few sparks crackling across his fingertips. Poseidon crossed his arms in contemplation. 

“Father, Uncle!” Athena said, trying to catch their attention, “This is madness, can you not see?”

But neither god answered her. Athena was in disbelief. 

All this over a golden apple that neither needed or really wanted. This was all about their reputations as accomplished lovers, which they shouldn’t even have considering they were both married men. 

And Aphrodite, it was clear she was only doing this to make a story out of it, the way she and her son Eros loved to couple mortals together, only to break them apart. No doubt some terrible fate will befall the chosen victim, no matter who they named the superior lover. 

In Athena’s mind, she could only imagine the loser of this game casting some bitter curse upon the poor mortal as revenge. But that was the fun of it for some gods, to see the doomed fate of some poor soul after getting mixed up with the divine. 

Behind Zeus’ back, Hera threw her hands into the air before storming off, summoning her chariot pulled by winged horses to return her to Olympus. 

Athena threw a disappointed look at Aphrodite before leaving as well, deciding to go where her counsel would be appreciated. 

+++

By mid-morning, Odysseus’ back and brow were already covered in sweat as he endeavored to finish the roof over his wedding bed before an unfortunate rain could sully his hard work below. 

The house he was raised in was perfectly fine, but with all the servants and guards on top of his family, it was not the largest of castles. It was also an old thing in constant need of repairs. Odysseus always envisioned a proper palace atop Ithaca’s mountains, one where his own family could grow large and have plenty of space to themselves. 

So, before the eve of his wedding, he endeavored to complete the house of his dreams for his new wife to enjoy. He started with their olive tree, a living symbol of his devotion to his betrothed. Odysseus labored day and night to carve part of it into one of the four posts for his wedding bed, taking extreme caution to not cut away so much that the tree would die. 

The largest bough of the olive tree would overlook one of their windows, with a perfect view of the vast ocean beyond it. Odysseus already carved the other three bed posts and constructed the frame, but there was always more work to do. As the common larborers constructed the foundation and walls for the other rooms in the palace, Odysseus went to work constructing the roof for his bedroom. 

With a sizable living tree in such close proximity to his quarters, he trusted no one but himself to complete the project without damaging it. 

Taking up hammer and nails, hauling wood and stone, and fitting everything into place almost entirely on his own was unusual for a king. Odysseus knew this, but the labor brought him joy like no other. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, imagining opening the door for the very first time as a married man. He would carry Penelope to their wedding bed, built entirely by his hand, and spend the rest of his life with her. 

Focus, he told himself. 

For now, Penelope still dwelled in her natal homeland of Sparta. As soon as her new home was completed, she would set sail for Ithaca.  

Odysseus wiped the sweat from his brow as the sun beat its rays upon his back. Maybe it was foolish to fear the coming rainfall, but he could see the grayish clouds on the horizon.

By midday, he was hopeful he could have the roof finished by nightfall. As Odysseus dropped from one of the wooden rafters into his nearly-complete bedroom, his tunic must have caught on a nail or perhaps a large splinter. He heard the sharp tearing of fabric and grumbled at the gash across his front. One of the room’s alcoves had some of his clothes, since he didn’t have time yet to build the chests or wardrobe. 

Thinking better of a tunic, Odysseus merely replaced it with a rectangular length of cloth fastened at the waist. It was something his mother wove, a lovely shade of blue to match the sea, embroidered with red and white thread. 

From somewhere nearby, he heard the familiar clicking of an owl’s beak coming to greet him. He smiled and turned around, draping his tunic over his arm as his mentor approached him in the form of a brown and white speckled owl. She sank her talons into his arm and flapped her wings as if in outrage. 

He let her perch on the alcove’s lip as he fasted a leather pauldron to his left shoulder. She hopped back on and Odysseus could feel her talons clench and unclench even through the tough leather. 

“What troubles you, Athena?” Odysseus asked. 

He set out through the bedroom’s heavy oak doors, finding himself in a long hallway that was finished, but not yet furnished or cleaned. 

She spoke into his mind, Sometimes, I wish I could belong to any other family but my own. 

Odysseus chuckled. “I’m sorry to hear.”

While he loved his parents and sister dearly, he knew that Athena often butted heads with her siblings and uncle. 

Odysseus counted the windows that still needed shutters and curtains, along with the patches in the roof that had yet to be filled in. Farther along, the great hall where they would entertain guests was still only a skeleton. Only half of the supporting beams and columns were installed and the whole place reeked of sweating men. 

Athena paid the laborers no mind as the citizens of Ithaca bowed for their king as he walked by. 

You know I’m not one for gossip, but I fear something terrible is about to strike the land. 

“Is that so?” Odysseus asked, his smile dropping. 

Yes, a terrible tragedy yet to come in the form of my Uncle Poseidon and my father. 

A servant approached Odysseus with a serving platter. He took a cup of water and drank deeply, and snatched a small bowl of olives before going on his way. 

“They’re angry with us?” Odysseus asked, fearing what this might mean for his people.

No, Athena said, accepting an olive and biting into the tender flesh with her sharp beak, Not quite, but their egos are yet again showing themselves. If you find unusual weather patterns in the next few days, pay them no mind. 

“Ah, I see.”

In truth, he didn’t understand Athena at all. But she seemed in the mood to vent about her personal feelings and seeing as she didn’t do so often, Odysseus was careful to listen. 

Athena clacked her beak in irritation. Odysseus bit into his own olive as he felt a sharp nibble on his ear before she started combing through his damp hair. She must’ve found something in his hair, a bit of dust or a wood chip, because he could feel her tugging at him. 

How goes construction on the new palace?

“Every day, I can see the way it’s growing.”

Odysseus passed by a group of men sitting in a loose circle, taking swigs from a water skin as they fanned themselves. One caught sight of Odysseus and they all scrambled to their feet. 

Odysseus held out a hand to put them at ease, “Catch your breath if you must. A tired man is more prone to making mistakes, and I will not have any in my new house.”

The men all sighed in relief and went back to their break, waving goodbye as he continued onward. Athena cooed to show her approval in his decision. He thought her mood was improving, but not a moment later, she said, I just can’t believe them sometimes. 

“Oh?”

Odysseus thought Athena said her piece already. She clicked his beak right in his ear. 

You would think that the god of law and order would have some sense in his head. But no! Apparently my mother Metis still possesses it. If only Father would listen to her, if not me.

Odysseus said nothing, having never heard Athena speak like this before, especially about her father. He thought it best to remain silent; perhaps Athena could complain about Zeus without punishment, but he knew far better. 

Athena clicked her beak with a different sense of urgency and Odysseus gave her another olive. She held it in one foot while balancing on the other, dropping the pit when she was finished devouring the flesh. 

“You seem awfully worked up,” Odysseus said, “Anything I can do to lift your burdens?”

Athena shook her head. No, I’m afraid this is something that no one man can solve, as frustrating as it might sound. 

He crossed the central courtyard and approached the war room, one of the few nearly-complete parts of the palace, where his chief architects and advisors were waiting to update him on their progress. 

Though Odysseus was primarily trained in the art of war, he was also well-versed in song and poetry, history, oratory, and arithmetic, all courtesy of Athena. He wasn’t an expert in architecture yet, but he had his own hand in designing the layout of the palace. 

“Good day, my friends.” Odysseus said, parting the curtains that served as a makeshift door until the palace was fitted with proper ones. 

One of his elder advisors squinted at Athena upon his shoulder. “My liege?”

Before they could go over any potential issues in the construction or their budgetary concerns, Odysseus wandered over to the window and let Athena take off. She disappeared through the trees, though he knew he’d see her again soon.

+++

Despite the fact the sun was about to set and the two godly kings had been bickering all day long, Aphrodite hadn’t lost her patience yet. In fact, she was even reveling in her task at hand. 

They moved their business to her abode on Olympus, where her many mirrors were put to good use. Zeus and Poseidon scoured the lands for a suitable judge to measure their sexual prowess, each of them interested in different aspects of what made up a potential lover. 

Zeus was pleased with just about any pretty face that breathed, but Poseidon was a bit pickier with appearances. He didn’t want his maidens or young men to be too skinny, and he seemed to have a preference for those with strong legs. Aphrodite could certainly work within those bounds. 

At the same time, Poseidon was more open to sharing a lover with some previous sexual experience, thinking it’d make the whole process easier. Zeus wrinkled his nose at the idea and insisted he wanted someone “new”, not wanting to muck about after some vastly lesser mortal man had his way with their chosen judge. 

Aphrodite agreed that was a good point, so instead of letting the two kings squabble, she put her talents as a matchmaker to good use. After a brief consultation, she put together a list of minimum requirements that satisfied both gods. 

One, their shared lover had to be attractive, preferably with appealing legs. 

Two, they had to be virginal. 

Three, they all agreed that the mortal should come from high standards, so some form of royalty. They could be a princess or a prince, or even someone lesser than that, but anyone of a noble bloodline would be preferable to a random maiden. Of course, both kings had their fair share of peasant-girl chasing, but for such an important competition, Aphrodite understood their concerns well. 

And lastly, the judge should be someone intelligent. Someone who wouldn’t buckle under the pressure of their assigned task and would be able to use not just their body, but logic to determine the true and indisputable winner. 

No doubt each god had their plans to bribe the judge, but who wouldn’t?

If it was Aphrodite competing for the apple, she wouldn’t hesitate to pull out a few tricks of her own. An idiot might be easy to bribe, but that also meant they’d be easy for the competition to bribe as well. To each of the male gods, an intelligent lover would certainly be able to recognize a superior bribe.

“Sadly, your stipulations exclude Helen of Sparta,” Aphrodite said, waving away the image of Helen in her largest mirror, “She’s had children by now, though she’s still quite lovely.”

Poseidon made a noncommittal sound, as if he might reconsider, but Zeus urged Aphrodite to move onto the next candidate with a flick of his wrist. The two of them sat before her best mirror, looking almost comical in her rose-colored, dove-ingrained armchairs. 

They went through a few more potential candidates, including Penelope of Sparta and Ctimene of Ithaca. Neither god was very impressed by her choices, but just as Aphrodite was about to move onto the next candidate, Poseidon held out a hand. 

“Wait a moment,” he said, his eyes narrowing, “Who is that in the back?”

“Oh?” Aphrodite asked. She returned to the image of Ctimene. She was bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, her veil fluttering in her wake as her handmaidens walked with her. They seemed to be exiting some great ruin, but on closer inspection, the gods could see men at work. They were building a great palace, it seemed. 

Well, great by the standards of mortals. 

Behind Ctimene, a bare-chested young man held out a hand and seemed to be directing a group of others. Aphrodite’s mirror rippled and showed them the young man in greater detail, leaving young Ctimene out entirely. 

“Oh,” Zeus said. 

Aphrodite concealed her eager smile, more thrilled than ever at this sudden twist. She examined the young man’s features, including the sharp angles of his nose, his dense locks of dark brown hair, and his high cheekbones. He bore a striking resemblance to Ctimene. As the goddess of love, there were a few other details Aphrodite could parse out just by looking at him, but she would conceal her thoughts for now. 

She said, “Why, that would be none other than King Odysseus of Ithaca!” 

Though the young ruler was about the same height as his sister, he was no slight-of-frame weakling. His broad shoulders complimented his strong chest and arms, certainly the build of a warrior. His stomach was a flat plain and below his garments, well muscled thighs teased them almost playfully. 

A pale scar ran along the inside of one of his thighs, but it only added to his character. Though Poseidon maintained his interest, Zeus scoffed. 

“King, you say?” Zeus nudged his brother, “You know what that means.”

Poseidon was still appraising Odysseus’ thighs, “Plenty of whores in and out of his bed?”

“Actually!” Aphrodite said, clapping her hands, “You’ll be beyond pleased to know that young Odysseus here… is virginal.”

Now that had both gods’ attention. The King of the Gods seemed incredulous.

“How old is he?” Zeus asked. 

“Twenty years, my dearest king.”

“And he’s still a virgin?” Poseidon asked, his eyebrows flying up in surprise. “Why? Is he stupid?”

Aphrodite giggled behind her hand, “He’s determined to save himself for marriage, like a maiden! But it can’t be helped. I do believe he’s Athena’s pupil, after all. And I’m sure she holds him to what she perceives as a high standard.”

Aphrodite rolled her eyes, “Whatever the case may be, he’s remained celibate thus far. Perfectly ripe and ready to be plucked, if you would.”

The gods of the sea and sky shared a look. 

Zeus said, “Show us more.”

Aphrodite was more than happy to do exactly that. She waved her hand and the stationary image of Odysseus began to move. There was no sound to accompany the vision, but all three of them remained silent as they watched Odysseus work. 

He carried multiple rucksacks full of supplies up the spiral staircases of his house while other laborers stopped to eat their dinner. He seemed more than intent to get somewhere, not stopping until he came across a large bedroom with the roof still letting in sunlight in a few patches. Interestingly, while the bed was large and well made, it lacked a mattress or rug thrown over the rungs. Perhaps that would come later. 

Odysseus hopped out the window, seemingly ignorant to the fact there was a steep drop right below him, as he grabbed hold of a tree bough and climbed into the roof. It looked like he was intent on using every last bit of sunlight to his advantage as he finished laying out the clay shingles. 

The sweat across his body glistened like stardust as the sky above him glowed with the most beautiful shades of red and gold. He put his strong body to use by covering the few bare patches of his rooftop, stopping only to retrieve a shallow clay bowl from his pack, filling it with oil and floating a wick on top before igniting his lamp to give him a bit more light. 

Zeus snapped his fingers. In an instant, Hermes was fluttering at his side. 

“Yes, Father?”

Without taking his eyes off of Odysseus, Zeus said, “Contact Helios. Tell him to wait a while longer before dusk arrives.”

Hermes spared Odysseus a brief glance before nodding and flying off. Though the mortal didn’t seem to notice, the sun did indeed stop setting. 

Odysseus set down his hammer to dab his sweat-soaked face with a rag. He was tiring now, but intent on finishing his job if the determined look in his eyes was any indication. 

Poseidon held up one hand and curled a finger toward himself. 

The hammer that Odysseus just set down began sliding toward the edge of the roof. 

“Brother…” Zeus warned. 

Poseidon said, “Trust me.”

Odysseus snatched the hammer before it could fall, but found himself quite close to the edge now. 

Poseidon cupped his hands around his mouth and blew softly. A wind coming off Ithaca’s coast kicked up, carrying the salty scent of the ocean with it. As Odysseus stood with his hammer, he raised his other hand to shield his eyes from the sudden gust of wind that ruffled his hair and clothing. 

Aphrodite’s eyes widened, instantly recognizing the game Poseidon was playing. She added her own flare as well, using just the slightest twirl of her finger to undo the belt holding young Odysseus’ garments in place. 

The poor young king seemed baffled by his sudden misfortune, moving swiftly to capture his garment before the wind could steal it away. Aphrodite froze the image without being told to do so, but she was quite proud of her timing. 

Odysseus stood in all his mortal splendor, revealing his tan skin scarred by past adventures. He was healthy, with the body of an athlete and his arm outstretched to better display the toned muscles under his skin.  

“What a surprise!” Aphrodite said with mirth, tracing her finger along the surface of the mirror, “Look at his little dimples!” 

Indeed, a twin set of dimples rested over his lower back, no longer concealed by his clothing. But that was not all. Some men were cursed to be rather flat in their rear, leaving them looking awkward or incomplete at times, but Aphrodite was equally pleased that Odysseus had something worth looking at below his dimples. In addition to the well-defined muscles in his shoulders and back, he sported the most grabbable bottom. 

If Odysseus was not doomed to be the plaything between kings, Aphrodite might have been tempted to take him for herself. 

She held out her hands as if Odysseus was nothing more than an exotic animal on display. Poseidon was leaning forward in his chair, his head tilted with interest. Zeus, too, seemed sold at last. His golden eyes sparkled more brightly than usual as he traced over the little king’s backside. He ran his tongue over his teeth. 

Aphrodite smiled, “So, my dears… what do you say? Is Odysseus of Ithaca to be your judge?”

[srslylini]

I have some thoughts about the idea of forgiveness and moving on we see in media and fans. The thoughts mostly come from being in therapy and spending time with people who specialize in those fields and helped me come to terms with my own pain.

This can very well be taken in general but is mostly about Vi.

Right. So.

Vi is a genuinely interesting character, who has gone through hell and back to put it lightly. She lives in conditions in the undercity that has people who don't live in them wear masks to handle them. She grew up and saw her parents die, which means she had to step up. Vander did adopt her, her sister, Mylo and Claggor but Vander still put a lot of responsibilities on Vi. She was told she cannot be selfish when people look up to her.

Then, of course, the entire act 1 of season 1 happens, which in itself is already very much and not something that should have ever happened to anyone, let alone a kid/teenager. She then, on TOP of all of this, got thrown into Stillwater after seeing her entire family die (and presumed Powder also as dead, although she continued to hope), where she was canonically beaten, starved, put into isolation and... the rest is up to interpretation because I guess the writers did not care. But that interpretation is not a good one.

What I am trying to say with all of this is that Vi has been put through so much by the system and by people (Enforcers get a special mention here) all around her.

This gets me to the point. I see a lot of people, the writers themself even, talk about how Vi needs to (or already did) forgive and move on. And I just wonder where this idea comes from?

In all my time in therapy, no matter what and who I talked about, you know what I have never heard? That I need to forgive.

What I heard instead was rather close to this:

"What happened was not your fault. It happened and can't be changed. But there is still something you can do, because you stand here now. You can imagine yourself back then and guide yourself. Hold yourself and tell the younger version of you that what happened isn't ever going to be fine but that you are still here and that you need to be kind to yourself." She told me "take the hand of your younger version and walk her through it because in the end it will have always happened but you can choose to help yourself"

There is a lot more she told me, but that is between her and me. What I am trying to say with this is that not once did I ever get told that I need to forgive the people involved. I am also not trying to say that doing this works for everyone, because health does not work this way. The point I am making is that I find it incredibly weird that we came to the point of saying that the only way to let go is to forgive, when that could not be further from the truth.

I would say understanding it happened and being kind to yourself does a lot more than trying to forgive people who hurt you so much that it ends in you being broken to what seems beyond repair (it isn't I have learned that much, lol). That's what my therapist taught me.

Which brings me back to Vi and why I find the notion of "she needs to forgive and move on to get better" or the writers writing "she forgave and moved on" so weird.

What happened to her is not something that can be forgiven. And... that is okay. Or it should be okay. But for some reason it isn't?

I mean if you can and want to forgive that is for you to do but to say that it is a (or even THE) way to move on does not sit right with me. At all.