#the fact he looks like this and is shy is beyond me like I'd be insufferable if I was him

[adamnablelittledevil]

Remember when Lestat said something like "and the simple vision of his (Armand's) beauty made me gasp"? (I don't remember the exact words, but it did involve gasping)

Yeah, e x a c t l y.

[clearwingedmaven]

Okay, another thing about me is that I absolutely ADORE the Picture of Dorian Gray(and I have a shirt with the entire novel printed on it too) My last major project/essay in Grad School was on the Picture of Dorian Gray and how it follows the Seven Monster Theses by Jeffrey Jerome Cohen(and I can get into how Dorian Gray is, in fact, Monster Gothic Literature), but that's neither here nor there.

What I'd like to point out is the portrait.

We all know that the Portrait is what frames the entire story, as the portrait ages instead of Dorian and it's a symbol of the utter decay and despair of the Decadence movement, but it also tells you what the standards of "beauty" and "corruption" were in their respective era.

Let's take the 1945 Portrait for example.

Here, the portrait is beyond warped, and ugly. Dorian's skin is full of blemishes, his face is hardly recognizable, and looks like he's aged several hundred years, not just the passage of time in the book. The background is colored in blacks and reds and poisonous colors that seem to reek toxicity.

But he's still human underneath it all. You can easily recognize that Dorian is a human. 40s corruption was a lot like the Decadence movement: human, toxic, and a symbol of human corruption like so many during war paintings often are. Unlike modern Dorian paintings, they shy away from making him look beastial in his portrait.

But what about beauty?

40s beauty standards were essentially trying to keep up the image. Because this was towards the end of World War Two, Dorian here is cheerful, poised, and the Picture of innocence. Perhaps it harkens back to the "Innocent Child" of the Romanticism movement, but I digress.

Here, we also get the picture that the human corruption of Dorian also corrupts all of those around him-even the cat statue in the warped portrait becomes corrupted as well.

And thus, you get The Picture of Dorian Gray... but you also get what their respective eras thought about beauty, corruption, and what they considered "ugly."

And it's brilliant.

[blueaetherr]

welcome to eden

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): none

summary: the one where trent recounts his journey to discover eden

author's note: something small to get me back into writing again

now playing: she's mine pt. 1 by j. cole

With the day slowly fading into the night, people retiring inside, both parties equally wanting to rest and repair for the following day—the day had come to an end, simple and peaceful. Quiet too, only minimal and distant noise interrupting the silence of the early night. Despite this, activities both calm and loud continued within one's walls.

As for Trent and Y/N, they had opted for both. Loud activity—that leftover piece of cake on the kitchen counter, the game controller stuck and forgotten in the folds of the couch, the music speaker misplaced in the garden, the UNO cards left on the coffee table. It all remained scattered across their shared home as remnants, now existing as cherished memories to discuss in later years. 

Calm activity, they saved for the end of the day. Something as simple and uncomplicated as laying in bed together, feeling the wind touch up against exposed skin, acknowledging one another's presence through straying touches, tangled limbs and soothing breaths. How they finished their day would be how they would, too, start their day in the coming hours. 

Adjusting her position Y/N exhaled, saying, "Tell me something I'd like to hear." Her voice came out as a whisper, small and slightly muffled against Trent's chest, like she was shy and scared to speak. But in truth, it was simple; she wanted to hear Trent speak. To hear him lift up his voice and pronounce words the way that he did so perfectly every time, something Y/N felt like she would never get over.

Asking to hear Trent's words and voice wasn't anything out of the ordinary. In fact, it was habitual and familiar to their relationship. In times when they wanted to sleep but couldn't, when they wanted to relax and falter a bit after a taxing day, when they wanted to bring about a sense of calm in a moment of chaos—whether in person or over the phone—Y/N would request Trent's words. 

Tell me a story. Tell me about your day today, honey. How did you find the movie? From the hypotheticals to the yes or no wonders of life itself. Anything and everything was on the table and Trent would, of course, always say yes to her requests. 

Normally, if Trent was given free rein about what he could discuss with his partner, he would have to think for a moment, always looking to capture the perfect exchange of words. This time, however, he found no need to wander his mind for thoughts. "You weren't the first person I ever fell for."

"Oh wow, wow, wow." In any other situation where Y/N had the energy, she would've reacted more to his opening statement. Perhaps a questioning look or a warning yet joking pinch to the chest. Instead, she remained inert in Trent's arms and expressed in a neutral tone, "I feel so, so loved right now."

"I didn't mean it like that, obviously," Trent laughed a bit, his laughter bouncing off the walls. Even with the neutral tone, he could hear the dramatic undertone behind it. "You gotta hear everything I have to say and then make up your mind about how you feel."

"And how do you think I'll be feeling post-explanation?" A fooling curiosity settled behind her voice. Will it be worth it to listen to your words? After all, she did request something she would like to hear.

Tilting his head to look towards the window, Trent noticed the shining light rising into the night sky. "Over the moon and beyond."

Humming, Y/N nodded against his chest and relaxed further into his embrace. Big expectations to meet. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to hear him out. "Let's hear it."

"Well you already know I've had a few girlfriends before you, and it was with my previous girlfriend where I personally felt like I fell in love for the first time. Everything was good, great if you want to go that far. She was the one partner I was always going to my friends and family to talk about. I loved it because she made it so easy; I was happy and she made me happy, and I thought that was more than enough for me to be content with the relationship."

She shifted away from Trent's chest– the distance quite small though not enough to prevent body contact– so she could face him well. "Sounds like you were in Eden," Y/N shaking her head slightly, feigning disappointment. She couldn't allow Trent to get through his story without bringing some cause for laughter to the conversation.

"Just like me get to it. I promise it gets better," Trent huffed out a small laugh, and Y/N soon followed suit. An instant of delight under the night sky. 

Soon laughter fell short into silence and Trent continued, "Anyways, eventually she ended up breaking up with me and I was heartbroken. I was confused and devastated. Everything always felt right to me so I didn't know where it went wrong. I thought she was the one and only, my one and only. I'd fallen, like, pretty hard and I didn't think I would again after that. I found everything in her. She was everything to me. It doesn't get better than that," he exhaled, his eyes drifting randomly around the room, "I mean it shouldn't get better than that."

"But then I met you," Smiling, his gaze returned to his partner, fondness soon collecting in his eyes, "... and I quickly discovered that I was so, so wrong."

"Where she was giving me happiness, you're giving me happiness and more. Where she was giving me joy, you're giving me joy and more. Where she was giving me peace, love, content— you know what? Let me not ramble before I'm just listing everything great about you." Noticing her smile wobble a bit, he took hold of her hand and kissed the back of it. A request to comfort and ease her mind. Against her hand, Trent spoke with a small voice, "I mean you get what I'm sayin' right?"

Tell me more, keep going, let me know your thoughts– among many things she wanted to say. But she found herself in her feelings, far too deep, so much so that she failed to find her voice. So instead she simply nodded through sniffles and a struggling smile, allowing him to continue.

"So sure she was my first real, honest love. I fell for her first and that's fact—that'll never change. But she could never reach your ankles, honey. 'Cause I fell for you and suddenly, I felt it again but with you. Heck, I still feel it with you, over and over, every single day. I remember how it felt when we first met. I felt it yesterday. I felt it when we were washing the dishes together a few hours ago." Humming, he wiped away the stray tear escaping her eyes. "And I hope to feel that way tomorrow and every day after that."

"I am and have everything and some with you. You give me more than I need; you are quite literally abundance."

In truth, Trent didn't always have the words for everything, often spontaneous and unintentional in his speech. Still, his love language always pointed back to words of affirmation. Forever with pleasure, he would continue to offer Y/N his voice and words of her choosing. 'Cause in his eyes, it was easy to speak for someone you felt so passionately about, someone who you could never seem to pull away from even when you should.

Speaking on this aspect of the relationship made Trent reflect a bit, his mind rekindling recent thoughts. It made him lean back and think wow. He once believed that he had found true paradise in someone else. That she was everything ideal and secure, and Trent would never find himself in want of something else. 

But then there came Y/N, the genuine living proof of everything ideal and secure and more. In the words of Y/N, Trent found Eden in her. She was this person of paradise, harmony, perfection and ultimate beauty. In mind, spirit and body. Someone to appreciate, love and acknowledge at every point in space and time. And in his words, she was someone of abundance. Always ever-giving and forever infinite in her person. Never would he ever lack with Y/N. The primal things—loud activity, calm activity—continued to leave Trent without wants beyond his partner.

"So how did that meet your expectations?"

Y/N strung out a sigh, exhaling those overwhelming sentiments. Some would think Trent was speaking just to speak, to pass time or for the two to fall asleep well, and that was true. But what was also true was that Trent found delight and happiness in speaking on this subject, speaking about how, actually, Y/N was his one and only. How she was everything—how she gave him everything and more. Yet all she ever asked for in return were his words and speech. 

So here were his words, a mellow proclamation of love and affection, and like every other time it left Y/N joyfully devastated.

The soft breeze in the room shifted her attention towards the opened window for a moment. Soon, she noticed the moon, now high in the sky daintily shining into the bedroom. She hung her head back as she let a small chuckle through her tears. "I'm over the moon and beyond."

[mirai-e-jump]

Hero Vision Vol.37 (2010/Summer) ft. Kamen Rider OOO Cast Members Watanabe Shu & Miura Ryosuke Interviews (translations below)

Publication: September 7, 2010

Watanabe Shu (Eiji Hino)

"Playing the role of the main character Eiji Hino and Kamen Rider OOO in "Kamen Rider OOO," is Watanabe Shu-kun. He's always thought, "I've always wanted to become a Kamen Rider," and the passion he has for this production has only seemed to have intensified. Watanabe-kun has only just started to create the role, but what's the main appeal of OOO and Eiji? We present to you this hot interview."

-I'm going to become a Kamen Rider!-

Ever since my first year of elementary school, starting with "Kamen Rider Kuuga," I've watched all of the Heisei Kamen Rider series in real time. At first, seeing a Kamen Rider defeat a monster was just so cool, and I couldn't stop watching. Around the time of the third series, "Ryuki," and fourth series, "Faiz," I was able to better understand even the smallest of details, and I began to think, "I'm going to become a Kamen Rider!"

While I continued to think like this, the chance to audition for "Kamen Rider OOO" was presented to me. I was more determined than any of the other contestants to win the audition, and it's not an exaggeration to say that I was putting my life on the line. That's why when I was chosen, I was so happy that I burst into tears.

Out of all the Heisei Kamen Rider series, the one I like the most is Kamen Rider Faiz. When he transforms, this area (his face and the 5 sections of his body) beeps and lights up, and when he does a Rider Kick, there's a flash of red…..the transformation and battle scenes are really cool!

Not only Faiz, but I've been influenced by the previous works of my seniors in many ways. In particular, when the Producer told me that Eiji's character is similar to that of Ryuki's main character (Shinji Kido), I had a fresh new look on him.

However, I don't want to end up copying his character, rather, I want to make sure that Eiji's own character comes through. When I think, "The feeling of Eiji," it's…..that he doesn't sweat the small stuff, and that he doesn't care about looking cool. Still, he'll face anyone directly, and has a strong will to protect what he wants to protect at all costs. I think that Eiji's a very straightforward guy. I also think the fact that he carries around nothing but his underwear and some coins means that he doesn't worry about appearances. My personality is that I also don't sweat the small stuff (laughs), and I'm not shy, so I have many similarities with Eiji. I'd like to play the role of a reliable hero by incorporating the coolness of Eiji and OOO into my own personality.

-A carefully crafted transformation scene-

It's been about 3 weeks since filming began (this interview takes place in early July), but the scale of the show's production was beyond my imagination. From the number of people involved, the methods used for filming, and everything else was massive. I get really excited when I think about being in such a production. I'll never forget the excitement I felt when I filmed the transformation scene for the first time! In Kamen Rider W's film (Kamen Rider W Forever), there's a scene where OOO appears, and by saying, "Henshin!," I realized just how hard I'd been working to get here……and I almost started to cry without thinking.

OOO's transformation is so cool! There's lots of attention to detail, like with the 3 medals in the belt and the elaborate moves. The Action Director, (Tsuyoshi) Miyazaki, came up with the basics, and we worked together on the detailed hand movements and positions. I suggested that since my left hand was facing the camera, my palm should be facing towards it, and also thought up ways of saying, "Henshin!" It's an important scene throughout the show, and I want to create the image of Eiji and the hero that I envisioned, so I was very specific about it. In W's film, Eiji is supposed to have experienced transforming many times before, so I made sure he looked confident. But, the transformation in the first episode of our main story is Eiji's first transformation, so it gives off a fresh feeling. I hope you enjoy both!

On days where I was taught how to pose, I'd practice by myself at home until midnight. In my mind, I created the image of becoming OOO as if I were in CG (laughs). I can't wait to see it, as the end result will be even better than that. I definitely have to go to the preview screenings! (laughs).

Eiji's a guy who's on the move alot, so I'm looking forward to seeing more action scenes. We shot alot in episodes 1 and 2, with me being grabbed by the monsters, being thrown around, being blown up, and rolling around. I'm still abit awkward at it, but with the help of Director Miyazaki and Suit Actor (Seiji) Takaiwa-san, I hope that in the end, I'll be able to jump off a building.

Ah, I mean, I want to improve that badly, but whether I can really do it or not is another story! (laughs). My dream is to punch and kick the monsters untransformed, so I'd like to make that happen too. If I keep talking about it like this, it'll come true someday, right? (laughs).

-Teamwork is the best!-

Things are so much fun on set. Ankh's actor, (Miura) Ryosuke-kun, is currently 5 years older me, and Shintaro Goto's actor, (Asaya) Kimijima-kun is 3 years older, but once I started talking to them, we quickly became friends. Miura-kun is the person I interact with the most in my role, so we're often together on set, and we talk about things other than acting, like my favorite manga (laughs). You get to know Miura-kun as he performs during filming. When the cameras aren't rolling, we talk about different topics, and I'd to get to know Miura-kun better when we're not acting.

As for Kimijima-kun….I was already a fan (laughs). When I was in middle school, I saw Kimijima-kun as a model in a fashion magazine, and it made me happy. Both of them are like kind older brothers, so I think it'll be alot of fun for the 3 of us to be in the same dressing room together.

We're off to a good start, and I have a feeling that the teamwork on set will keep getting better. We'll create an interesting show together, so please look forward to it!

-Watanabe Shu's Body-

Head: I'm a super positive person, so I just get through everything with the attitude of, "Well, I'll just figure it out." Who do I take after…..maybe it's a mutation? (laughs).

Ear: I've been told that I have "Hell Ears," because I carefully listen and remember the various things people say (laughs). I don't have any piercings…..making a hole looks like it'd hurt.

Eyes: I used to play sports, so my eyesight is well developed. I can even dodge punches, which I think will help me with action scenes!

Nose: I'm sensitive to the smell of food, and can guess what kind of food it is without looking. By the way, I love the smell of meat. I'm like a cave man (laughs).

Hand: I like to draw, and got the highest scores in art. But, I was more involved with sports, so now I'm abit rusty. Women probably prefer slimmer fingers anyway (laughs).

Mouth: I'm not shy at all, so even if I just met someone, I'll talk to them as much as I can. In other words, I'm annoying (laughs).

Foot: I'm fast! I used to run short distance and hurdle races, but I'm especially good at 400 meters races, and once took 3rd place in a prefectural competition with a time of 51.24 seconds!

Mind: I don't get upset about things too much. Maybe it's because a girl called me "insensitive" when I was in elementary school. Now that I think about it, that word seems to carry a serious meaning (laughs).

OOO: The theme of OOO is "Desire," and my "Desire" was to become a Kamen Rider. I think it's because I kept that in mind that I was able to encounter this production. Now, OOO is "Desire" itself. _

Miura Ryosuke (Ankh)

"Playing the double role of Shingo Izumi, a detective, and Ankh, the monster who possesses him in "Kamen Rider OOO," is Miura Ryosuke-kun. With the aim of, "Playing a beloved monster," he seems to be exploring for new ways to express himself everyday."

-Aiming to become a beloved monster-

I met with the Producer and Director through an interview, where I was given the opportunity to be apart of this production. The day before the interview, I was so nervous because my mind was racing (bitter smile). But, in order for people to understand you, you have to enjoy yourself, so that's what I did, and from the beginning, everyone talked to me in such a friendly manner…..I immediately felt relaxed and at ease.

When I was chosen for the role of Ankh, I thought to myself, "I'm grateful." I've been an actor for about 9 years now, and I was afraid that I'd only be doing on the spot performances. But, I now feel that it's because of my previous experience that I was able to get a role that'll last as long as a year. That's why I'm "grateful."

After filming began, the separation of the roles for Shingo Izumi and Ankh become a major point for me. Director (Ryuta) Tasaki, who shot episodes 1 and 2, asked me to, "Make some differences," for my tone of voice, facial expressions, and movements. Looking at the script, it's obviously different. But, when I tried playing the role, it was very difficult. Shingo becomes possessed by Ankh in the first episode, so we don't know much about his personality. His younger sister (Hina Izumi, played by Riho Takada-chan) is worried about him, so we know he's a good older brother, but, I think he's actually more of a troublesome brother, which is why his sister is so strong (laugh). I'm looking forward to finding out what kind of person Shingo is through Hina.

I'm still struggling with Ankh. The only thing I've clearly decided on, is to make him a "beloved monster." This was also brought up by Director Tasaki. Ankh's ideas and actions are pretty mischievous. One example is in episode 2, when he ate some popsicles, saying the reason was he wanted to, "Get some nourishment" (laughs). I'm sure that if I play the role without hesitating, my character will be loved by everyone. I wonder if Ankh will become more like a human by being with Eiji, or if a monster will always stay a monster…..I can't wait to see how things turn out.

Before we started filming, we had 2 rehearsals, but for the first one, time went by and I wasn't really grasping anything……I was certain that everyone was worried and wondering, "Is this guy gonna be okay?" I was so frustrated, that I would watch anime that reminded me of Ankh, I just couldn't stop thinking about him. I began to think that there was more to him than just being a right hand, and that there was a "heart" to him. Then, at the second rehearsal, I was able to get into being Ankh. The Director actually told me, "You're overdoing it" (laughs), but, those words helped me to get rid of any doubts, and I began to understand the "balance" of being Ankh.

-Creating Ankh together-

I'd like to draw your attention to the craftsmanship of Ankh's arm. It's been finely crafted down to the smallest details, and is very beautiful. It made me wonder how great it'd be to design the whole body. I can't tell you what material it's made of, as it's a trade secret (laughs), but, it's so light that I no longer feel uncomfortable wearing it. The index and middle fingers are my own fingers sticking through, so I can make detailed movements.

I've learned alot from Eitoku-san (Suit Actor), who moves Ankh's arm. Even though only his arm is shown in the show, he uses his whole body to express himself to the fullest. Just when I was thinking that I didn't want to be outdone, I had a very happy experience. The scene in the first episode where Ankh possesses Shingo was expressed through my own arm…..When I performed the moment when Ankh enters his arm and takes over, the camera man called Eitoku-san over and said, "Eitoku, this is how the acting should be done." The person who was filming was able to understand my performance. It made me incredibly happy. It made me think, "I can really do it as Ankh!" Through Eitoku-san and Ankh, I'm learning the importance of expressing my thoughts and feelings from the tips of my fingers, toes, and head.

The Director, makeup artists, costume designers, lighting crew……all of their hard work has been positive, and has helped me with becoming Ankh. I'd like to express myself as much as I can so that you can see it in a better way.

As of now, many of the actors are younger than me, but in the past, I'm often the youngest on set. I'd like to view this from the perspective of an older brother…….I want to, but it's abit difficult (laughs). The teen cast members are all so strong, that they often end up helping me out.

I think that (Watanabe) Shu is "free" in a good way. He says things like, "I want to express it in this way," without hesitation. In this world, people tend to hold back by saying, "I can't do this," or, "I can only do this much," but Shu doesn't have such an attitude. That's why I feel good and at ease when we're together. His presence in my life has grown so much, that I feel like we've already been together for a year. The only thing I wish he'd stop talking about, is his favorite manga. Every day when he comes to the set, he asks me, "Miura-kun, have you read this one?" I'm not really into reading manga, so one of my favorite things to say right now is, "Will I last a year….?" (laughs).

I'm grateful for being on such a set where we can have such innocent conversations. I'd like to build a relationship with Shu and all the cast members, so that we can motivate and support each other even during the hardest shoots. I'd like to work with everyone to grow not only within the work, but myself over the next year.

-Miura Ryosuke's Body-

Head: I'm someone that wants to have "fun." I want to take things in a fun direction, and for people to think, "He's smart." I don't want to show my efforts behind the scenes.

Eyes: I may have a hard time looking at people and other things. But, the feeling of taking in everything is always there. Because by doing so, I'll encounter something that'll move my heart.

Mouth: I like talking, but I'm not good at it. I'm often asked, "What was that last part?," because I tend to get carried away and say things too quickly…..

Nose: Like laundry fresh out of the dryer, I like scents that give off a warm feeling (laughs). Sleeping on them is ideal. Floral fabric softeners are the best.

Mind: I've always been stubborn, and I'm very consistent when it comes to my way of thinking. In order for people to understand that, I have to be firm with myself first.

Foot: I'm not slow, but I don't think I'm fast either. I do like to exercise and dance, and I like to just move my body. I'd be happy if I can make use of that in my action scenes.

Ear: I have really good ears. Even when I'm talking to someone, I can hear the conversations of those next to me, and I'll get angry and say, "What'd you say?!" (laughs).

OOO: This is the "start" for me. I'm confident that what I learn here will remain with me for the rest of my life, so I want to make this an important first step for me.

[winktalks-com]

NO because that tiny tiny shot of gojo's 6? year old self and the way he looked and the way he spoke means so much. "stop looking at me you weakling" was so serious. this kid is obviously not the 17 year old Satoru we know from hidden inventory. and the fact that there's nothing else (that we know of) that changed from this particular flashback to the time hidden inventory takes place in (EXCEPT him meeting Suguru) just serves to drive the point further that he only really acts like that because of Geto.

Children don't act so mature and if they do they don't magically evolve into carefree childish teens.

Cause we know for a fact from the day he was born gojo was just adored by his family. Like "On the day Gojo Satoru was born the balance of the world was altered" type stuff which I am sure they didn't shy away from saying to his face. And children don't have that concept of power. He likely didn't even understand what he was compared to in terms of strength. I mean i doubt those adults would want to talk about the details of cursed spirits with a kid.

And being told you're supposed to be the strongest can be so scary. I mean sure he already had it in him but did he feel it? I doubt it. People born a certain way can't comprehend life beyond their perception.

And then he joined jujutsu high which- we aren't even told why? Cause clans have the option to train their kids themselves homeschooling style. I'd think they'd wanna keep him as close as possible)

But anyway he joins and here comes this other guy who is just as strong as him who has a very very different outlook on life and who speaks about it so confidently and convincingly that gojo starts trusting him with his whole being.

Like "oh Suguru thinks this so it must be the answer" "Suguru thinks I'm right so that's all that matters" "Suguru thinks I'm wrong so I MUST prove to him that I'm right"

And even if they fought a lot Geto remained his moral compass and all of his opinions stood on the pillars of getos belief system even while directly opposing it.

In hidden inventory after Riko's death Satoru asks Geto if he should kill all of those people. And when the other disagrees he doesn't argue. Because Suguru is always right.

And when Geto defects and kills a bunch of non sorcerers his whole world crumbles because His firend has never been inconsistent or hypocritical before. Cause Geto is suPOSED to always be right. Like fuck you mean you talk about how sorcerers are born to protect regular people and then you go kill a bunch of those people you're supposedly meant to protect?

And sure he's angry. But his whole personality and morality is built around Geto. And he still thinks its the right way to think. So he keeps acting like that because in those 4 years they spent together he forgot how to care about his family's opinion. Because the only opinion that mattered was Geto's.

And if I was Gojo I'd be pretty fucking upset. Because sure its "do as I say not as I do" but Geto didn't make that choice only for himself. And how dare he even think he's wise enough to make that type of decision at 17? At any age. He didn't just choose to kill that whole village he chose every consequence of that action too. He chose to have an execution order placed on his head and he chose to kill his parents after that and he cHOSE to leave Gojo behind.

And that's fucked up like ok you made a mistake?? But don't keep making mistakes just so you don't have to admit it.

I hate them

[alice-after-dark]

Late Night with the Radio Demon - Sing Me a Song

Alastor is bored and visits his favorite human.

Alastor's POV for once! Normally I want this au to lean a little more on the dark and horrory side of things, but this popped into my brain space so here, have some short fluff of silly boys being silly.

And, as usual, gotta tag @hiemaldesirae!

When Alastor appeared in the young man's apartment, he was greeted by two very pleasant things.

The smell of something cooking.

And a lovely melody drifting out of the kitchen.

Half a love, never appealed to me

If your heart, never could yield to me

Then I'd rather have nothing at all

All or nothing at all

The first voice crooning that delightful sound Alastor immediately recognized as the glorious Frank Sinatra. A true pity that Alastor had passed only a year before the man stepped onto the music scene. He would have been delighted to play the man's music on his show. The second voice singing along however...truly, his human never failed to entertain. He made his way towards the kitchen.

If it's love, there ain't no in between

Why begin then cry for something that might have been?

No, I'd rather, rather have nothing at all

"My, my! So full of surprises, Vincent!"

The human yelped, jumping and nearly dropping the knife he was holding as he scrambled to turn off the radio. He whirled around, leveling the demon with a glare as Alastor made himself comfortable at the table.

"Do you have to do that?"

"Oh my, no! But it's far more fun!" The Radio Demon leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and tucking his hands under his chin. "I wasn't aware you could sing."

His human looked rather adorable, flushed in the face like a shy schoolgirl. He looked away from Alastor's gaze. "I don't usually...it's just a casual hobby...my dad used to sing a lot and I guess I just picked it up from him."

Alastor tried not to let his mood sour at the mention of a father figure. Well, at least not everyone had to put up with a piece of shit contributing the second half of their chromosomes. Thankfully, his human provided a quick distraction.

"So why are you here? Did you come for your favor?"

Oh dear, he'd nearly forgotten! "Of course! Can't let it go to waste, now can I?"

His human sighed. "Okay, so what do you want?"

Alastor tapped his chin. He didn't really have anything he truly needed at the moment, but it wouldn't be right to let the TV host get away without upholding his end of their bargain for the day. An idea formed.

"Well, you were so quick to turn off that radio upon my arrival that I didn't get to hear the end of that lovely song. Why don't you finish it for me?"

His human blushed again. Ah, he did so enjoy the sight of him flustered. "You...you want me to sing for you?"

"Indeed! In fact, why don't we take it from the top?" Without waiting for further commentary, Alastor tapped his microphone and music began to fill the small kitchen. His human turned back to his cooking, shoulders tense and awkward, but nevertheless began to sing. Alastor leaned on his hands and watched him. As the song continued, the TV host began to relax, losing himself in the music as he returned to cooking. Alastor wondered if he even remembered the demon was there.

Please don't bring your lips so close to my cheek

Don't you smile or I'll be lost beyond recall

The kiss in your eyes, the touch of your hand makes me weak

And my heart, it may grow dizzy and fall

And if I fell under the spell of your call

I would be, I'd be caught in the undertow

So you see, I have got to say no, no

All or nothing at all

He really should get his human to sing for him more often.

All or nothing at all

Nothing at all

There ain't nothing at all

Nothing at all

---

All or Nothing at All by Frank Sinatra

[yearningaces]

Surprise surprise I love Baldurs Gate 3

Officially, I adore Gale and Karlach the most. But of course, our resident Vampiric bastard has wormed his way into my heart.

Today though, idk if I'm pleased or shocked to say a one off conversation with Astarion at the beginning of the game has made me question my gender as it is.

I was playing a male dragonborn durge (fav option so far but I only did fem/neutral pronouns in my last 2 playthroughs.) And when Astarion talks about death options if you turn into a mind flayer, you can ask how he wants you to kill him. He says he'd like to see you try, "my dear". If you have a male tav/durge. He says "my boy"

I sat staring at my computer for ten minutes because it was such a casual delivery and it made me feel many things I wasn't prepared to feel

So have my written rendition of that scenario

Talks of gender- reader is described as female at birth while looking more masculine but uncaring of gender with a revelation over how nice it is to be referred to with male pronouns

Reader beyond that isn't described at all

~

"Oh, my boy, I'd like to see you try."

One comment from your newest traveling companion was all it took to send your mind spiralling. The pale elf had struck you up with a conversation about how best to kill you should the tadpole take effect and turn you into a mind flayer.

An amusing topic if the risk of reality didn't exist. Only once you questioned how he'd prefer you kill him should the scenario take place for him instead, his remark left you frozen in place.

Not fear, nor anger, but a state of shock over a term. 'My Boy.'

Truly you never looked feminine, that was a simple fact. But you were born with a girls body. With a longstanding confusion in regards to gender, evolving to acceptance of the fact that you held no care for how you were referred to, or with what pronouns, obviously you were open to most any. But those who'd known you knew your biological gender, and referred to you strictly as such- even when you'd say they could refer to you as any and all of them.

Astarion, as he'd just met you and had only seen you in bulky armor- didn't know of the biological gender and took a well given assumption. And the assumption being used so casually, even if slightly mocking set your mind into a silent frenzy of questioning and wonder as to why it sounded so right...

After a few moments of you staring like a deer in the headlights at the rogue, he tilted his head- not in concern, but confusion. Surely such a remark hasn't frightened you that badly? Not after the battle prowess he'd seen in you, hence his newfound decision to be on your good side. After all, a good meat shield went far in many a scenario.

"Ah, dear boy, don't tell me you've gone shy now?" His voice rings out with an impish grin, both amused, and curious as his hands gesture out to you. Such curiosity grows all the more when your gaze becomes all the more startled.

How intriguing...

After another moment, you take a breath, calming what little you could of your racing mind. "Astarion-"

The elf's grin grew as his hands clasped behind his back, almost innocent in posture if not for the expression he wore, amused and entertained at your sudden state of being despite not knowing the cause. "Yes, darling?"

Your voice faltered, you could say you're technically a girl, but that it was interesting being referred to as a boy... Or you could say nothing and experiment with letting someone refer to you as such for however long you'd like.

After another moment of silent pondering, you make your decision. "Nothing, you've just given me something to think about." A vague answer, yet an honest one.

Regardless, Astarion's prior amusement morphs into pure curiosity. "Oh? Do tell, now you have me intrigued." His hand rests on his cheek as though listening to the newest gossip.

You watch his red eyes focus more intently, never one to ignore something someone is hesitant to say. With a sigh, you decide it's probably harmless, not a big ordeal truly. Taking a deep breath, you speak. "I've hardly ever given two shits about gender, but you just called me a boy."

The pale elf tilts his head, the slightest hint of confusion forming in his eyes before it's masked once more, a minute weakness scarcely shown. "Yes, I did didn't I? That is what you are, is it not?"

His question send a surprisingly delightful jolt through your heart. More emotions to unpack at a later time. For now, you remained as collected as you could, which was very little given sudden realizations. "Yes and no? I do not care for gender nor it's presentation, I've always said any could refer to me however they please... But I've almost exclusively been referred to with feminine terms, despite my appearance simply due to the circumstances of my birth... You have been the first to refer to me as anything else." The facts are easy to state, the emotions? Not so much "It... Has given me much to think of -a welcome reprieve of only thinking of these blasted tadpoles- but not one I was expecting to have to negate through."

Through the explanation though, Astarion's expression has morphed slightly less the usual impish grin, and something more patient. There's little understanding in his eyes, but even he can tell this is important, not something to be mocked... yet. "Well, if it's all the same to you, I'll continue to refer to you as such until you say otherwise or have figured out this little conundrum of yours."

It's really as understanding as your newest companion has ever been, even if only slightly so. But from what little you've spoken to him, you can tell he's being sincere. It's nice, in a way. No huge reaction, but a simple one that still shows acceptance and support. How perfectly fit for the rogue you know so little about no matter how much he talks. "I'd appreciate it. I think it'll help hearing that until I can figure everything out... Thank you."

"But of course, dear boy-" Astarion, in true eccentric fashion, bows, arms held out to the side for just a moment until he rises again with the return of his usual grin. "What ever else is good company for?"

It's not a reveal of your deepest yearnings, it's no grand acceptance and celebration for the discovery of someone's truest or newest self, but it's your first moment of knowing there's something more to yourself. It's an unspoken acceptance from someone who will over time grow to mean so much to you, even if you don't know it yet.

It's little, only a moment.

But it's more than enough.

[elvispresleywife]

Guys Ive just been doing some late night loving and reminiscing and just general thinking about Elvis and I realised something that sums up how I feel about Elvis....kind of....and I will put it in quotes because I'm pretty proud "When I started off as an Elvis fan...I was a fan of the entertainer. The performer....then as I delve deeper....I became a fan of the man. The human being. The imperfect yet somehow perfect creation that was Elvis Presley." I started out ages ago when I was younger listening to his music, marveling at his jumpsuits and his songs, and the way he performed on stage. But as I got older....I got more invested....I wanted to know who this man was...what was it that made him so special to me? Why did I feel such an intense and strong connection to someone I've never met? So I began reading books and quotes, down to general scribbles of love notes from him to his girlfriend's or a poem about crushing a bird's skull 😭. I'd watch hours and hours of footage of him....anything I could find. Concerts, interviews, silent videos, photos, anything. I found a love for the man. The raw emotional side of the person who longed for happiness. A purpose. The man who grieved the deaths of people he never knew and problems that society faced. The man whose kindness and generosity outreaches to those beyond prestige and wealth. Beyond those who would be considered his "equals". The man who would laugh one minute and cry the next. The man who felt so deeply he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders everyday both on and off that stage. I fell for the humble, kind, shy, sweet, jealous, sometimes manipulative, but overall incredibly imperfect perfect man with the temper of a raging bull and the tenderness of a kitten. This man has and always will have a profound impact and leave a positively detrimental mark on my life. Not just his incredible music that I listen to everyday but his humanity and charisma and the fact that he was unapologetically himself and if you didn't like it you could leave. I couldn't't imagine a life without him. And to be frank I don't want to. I love this man with all my heart. I can't describe in words how deep my love goes for this man. It's an eternal and special love only me and he will understand. I don't care if this sounds odd or weird. I just had to get it off my chest. I just love him so much my heart aches. I laugh with him and cry for him. This man has changed my world for the better. I look at life through a different lens. And I wouldn't change it for anything.

Sorry for rambling but this is how I feel.

(To Elvis) I love you so much baby. Can't wait to meet you. Thankyou for always being there for me through your music, your movies, your interviews....and just thankyou for being there. I've felt you with me many times and I am so grateful for it. Love you so much.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[herzzgeist]

For the Dating Sim event:

🌱🌺 (I hope sending a mix is okay jsjfjfjg-)

I'm way too shy around Law to try breaking the ice myself, so instead, I'd probably just sit there and try to avoid looking at him but fail and keep glancing at him with a bright red blush on my face. Plus, I'd probably be nervously picking at the skin around my fingernails.

One Piece Dating Simulator - Law x fem!reader

Pairing: Law x Ris | Word count: 730 | Warnings: none

A/N: Ris sweetness! That's fine! Hope you like him (and sorry about the long wait) and I really hope you like the way he adresses you ;-; I thought it was cute

Dividers by cafekitsune ~

Patreon | Ko-fi

Anxiety, a word Law embedded too thorougly in his lifestyle. And if there is one thing he recognises instantly, it's a person nervously picking their skin around their fingernails, sweating and averting their gaze in tension.

Before he's able to speak, his eyes take in the ticks you cannot help to supress, your back pressed against the wall, far away from him. This instant, you are the spitting image of anxiety.

Law never came to a conclusion why you're so withdrawn around him. In honesty, he's a tad bit disappointed. Never did he chose to tease and drown you in his sarcasm and eery jokes, yet now, the urge to speak to you is gnawing on his brain.

In addition, your nervous antics worry him beyond belief, thus he utters: "Stop fiddling around your skin. You'll damage and inflame it like this, if you're not mindful enough."

"S-Sorry.", is the only way you're able to accommodate his statement and you end your unnecessary fidgeting. The Captain sighs and approaches you, which of course makes you flinch.

"Ri-ya . . are you afraid of me?", his question reaches your ears, inflicting a skip of your heart, knowing too well where this conversation may possibly lead to. The quiet closet, the dim light framing his handsome features, his steel eyes giving you a spark of inquisition. It's intriguing, it's too much.

However, there is no chance you can fake this out now. Law is known to point out white lies immediately, hence you mumble: "No . . it's quite the . . contrary."

The only sound audible to you is his breath catching. He was quick to understand inuendos, making him tilt his head and step towards you once more: "Are you saying you like me?"

With a deft nod you confirm his inquiry, averting your deep e/c elsewhere, hugging yourself in order to keep any nervous slips at bay. By the sight of you, the doctor can solely smile subtly.

One step more and he towers only inches before you. His height is intimidating, enough to make you feel like a tiny doll compared to him, to which he leans down.

"Before I jump to overly haste conclusions, I must ask. Given by your behavior, it's an indication your "like" could be assumed as deeper interest. Am I wrong?", Law hums in a calm manner. He is vaguely trying to tease out your feelings, seeing if you are truly hiding something from him.

You're not able to respond, you remain silent, pink coloring your cheeks. This is all the man before you needed. Slouching down, he now meets your level, his hand, guided by curiosity, caressing your face.

Inked digits simply glaze your skin, as if you are the most delicate of beings in the world. This moment, you can clearly tell you've piqued his interest, for his eyes switch between yours and your lips.

Closer. His hot breath hits your face, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut. Closer. The faint sensation of his mouth now lingers above yours.

Although you find yourself in this predicament, you're not the only one shivering. In fact, Law is trembling, not able to close the gap between you.

Yet.

Whispers hush through his shaky breath: "Calm down for me."

Then as you do, your expression loosening to softness, you feel tenderness being met upon your lips, so gentle it resembles nothing but a spring breeze. You take in his warmth, his scent, his touch.

The air around you shifts, rips through your ears as cold wind strives your body. Law pulls away, allowing you to open your eyes and you find yourself outside the Polar Tang, on the empty decks.

High up among the stars you see the moon beaming down on you, enlightening the endless sea below.

"A closet isn't very fitting for this sort of occassion, don't you think?"

His voice low, dripping in almost too sweet honey, fills your cheeks with heat and all you can do is smile. The realisation hits you, that the long wait to connect with the man you longed after ages, now finally sees you, sees the reason why your heart beats so strongly around him.

This night you remember to this day, for Valentine's day marked it perfectly in your calendar each year. A reminder to when his love began to blossom for you and reciprocated yours.

[lilas]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love💗(even if it's unfinished!!! i'd still love to see some of your fave work :> )

<3 ty beloved!! If anything this just makes me think I really need to finish some things lol

Troll Watching (avi’li and erenville being strangers and making awkward jokes)

Avi’li nods along to Erenville’s words. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a mushroom ooze before. Then again, he’s never paid much attention to mushrooms when they’re not on his plate or in his bowl. Do the giant mushroom men in Gridania count? But Erenville has him curious, so he asks, “And why do they do this?”

“It’s a way of relieving water pressure that builds up.”

“Like crying?”

Erenville considers, “I suppose that’s a fair comparison, though a little sad to think about a fungus crying bloody tears.”

“Certainly not the only one amongst us.” Ah.

It was meant as a joke but Avi’li’s words didn’t have that pep or punch to them, weighed down by a smidge too much truth. Erenville shifts, unsure how to interpret the “joke” so Avi’li laughs. Too soft to fully shake off the awkwardness, but it serves as a nice deflection.

“First you’re a frog expert, now you’re a mushroom expert?”

“Knowing a few facts doesn’t make an expert.”

Untiled/Dog Days (wip; surprise! avi’li adopted ninja dogs and he’s making it yugiri’s problem too)

Yugiri knew leaving her home would lead her to strange, incredible places. Thus far that remains true, though few things in life prepare you for a former flame (a handsome, still burning flame despite herself) returning to the Enclave with three small dogs in tow. Three dogs also inexplicably trained in the ninjutsu arts.

She watches the dogs, all at attention and watching her expectantly. They are well trained. She looks up at Avi’li for an explanation.

“They followed me from Mount Rokkon,” Avi’li answers, but stops himself. Yugiri’s eyes narrow, waiting.

Avi’li isn’t one to shy away from hard truths, but now he casts his eyes to the side, silvery strands of hair obscuring his gaze. Hesitating, Yugiri thinks, because his words might hurt her.

He shifts his weight between his feet, finally saying, “Their master is dead.”

By my hand, Yugiri finishes in her head.

“Hancock says her name was Yozakura.” Yugiri’s breath hitches. “I thought, both of you being shinobi, you may have known her.”

“Oh,” Yugiri breathes, “Yozakura…”

Light (wip; avi’li’s experience swallowing pure light aether)

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Not even the air tastes the same. What scant remnants of aether remain in this world burn to nothing in his lungs. He hesitates on every exhale. Light singes the tip of his tongue, aches behind his teeth, looking for a release.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

The distant shouts of children reach Avi’li’s ears from where he sits crumpled on the floor, back pressed firm against the wall in a tucked away corner of Sweetsieve. From here, he can at least enjoy the rain.

It takes more effort than he cares to admit to raise his head to the sky, green eyes narrowed against the soft pattering of rain. The Crystarium feels more alive when it rains. People are drawn out, marvel at the clouds, the cold in the air, the water from the sky, all novelties where once there was only oppressive Light. Avi’li fears, beyond his own wellbeing, the consequences of the Light escaping, that this rain might be the last that the First ever sees.

Breathe in…

For now, the rain is a small salve, a relief from the relentless prickling of Light inside of him, like a million dull knives across his skin, his heart, his ribs. It’s maddening, this sensation. His eyes slide shut.

Breathe out…

Azem (wip; avi’li asks themis about azem)

“Looking back I should have realized they would spare no effort in preventing the natural outcome. If it is in their power to relieve or prevent suffering, they will do so. That island had been evacuated of course, though the land and the homes of those people would have been entirely lost.” Themis shares a smile with Avi’li that feels like a secret. Avi’li leans in closer. “When I asked, they told me it was to protect the island’s delicious grapes, unique in their taste, and nothing more besides. Yet I suspect the true cause was to protect those homes loved by the people there.”

Avi’li smiles at that. He knows, by way of visions from Azem’s crystal, the truth in Apollo’s own words as remembered by Emet-Selch. That all that effort truly was for grapes, grapes that held enough meaning with the people, the land, to be worthy of preservation and protection all on their own.

“Why do you think they would lie about that?” Avi’li asks.

That gives Themis pause, and he taps on his chin. “Azem has a quiet sense of humor. It could be they were being coy as a tease.”

“Are they often like that? Coy.”

“Not at all. They are, in my opinion, refreshingly straightforward.”

Then why, Avi’li keeps this to himself, can you not accept this answer?

New Feelings (unpublished; avi’li crushing on aymeric and haurchefant having fun at his expense)

“Pray allow me privy to your thoughts?”

Avi’li answers with a shrug, “Thinking about Aymeric.”

“The Lord Commander?” Haurchefant raises an eyebrow. “What about him?”

“Ay’anno, just thinkin’ about him.”

“Did he request another meeting?”

“Wouldn’t you be the one to know that?”

Haurchefant purses his lips, “Then what?”

“Just…he’s an interesting man.” Avi’s eyes turn back towards the ceiling. “Just all…admirable and tall and collected…that stuff.”

“Uh huh.”

Avi’li frowns at the tone he hears and rolls onto his side to properly face Haurchefant, who’s trying and horrifically failing at hiding a crooked grin. “What?”

“What about?”

“Why’re you smiling like a spriggan?”

“Like a spriggan? Are you implying my teeth are anything similar to a creature who gnaws on rocks for a living?”

[the-brothers]

.Adoption.

"You kids know how I've been wanting to expand the family," your father started as the four of you had gathered around the dinner table.

"But Pops," you interrupted, "isn't it a bit late to be adopting more kids? I mean you're already so busy and not as young as you used to be."

His golden eyes narrowed slightly, "I'd like to remind you lass, that even though you are mature beyond your years, you are in fact only sixteen." he sighed, "These boys really need a home and can only be adopted together. You yourselves know how hard it is being grade school age in an orphanage."

You and Marco frowned. It had been almost eight years since your adoption, but you could never forget the way potential parents lit up when they saw the nursery. Not to mention all of the people who wanted to separate you from your self-professed twin. The social workers would always tell couples you were actually two years apart and not blood-related. You'd cry and shout to make things difficult, Marco would roll up his little sleeves and challenge anyone who dared to take you away. You were his sister and your DNA had nothing to do with it.

The day Edward Newgate arrived the two of you were separated to meet the man before he could take you home. It was less likely for you to act out if you didn't have your brother. When you entered the office, you were greeted by the enormous blond and another kid who had to be in his late teens. You were terrified, and shy having left all of your confidence with Marco.

After introducing himself and Thatch he began to ask you about your interests, typical stuff favorite colors, animals, what you wanted to be when you grew up, to which you murmured quick one-word answers. You also kept your distance.

"They told us you're quite the entertainer lass." Newgate pressed trying to figure out how the outgoing singer that was described to him was this timid girl.

You shrugged looking down.

Before you could think of a response there was a scuffle outside and the door burst open revealing the seething ten-year-old.

"Marco!" a worker desperately called after him.

He stood protectively in front of you scrunching his face at the man, "You can't take my sister, yoi."

"Sister?" Newgate sat back surprised, they hadn't told him you had a sibling.

"He isn't actually her brother," the woman corrected, "they've just been here for the last three years and are fond of each other."

"No," Marco growled, "she is my sister and you can't just take her."

Newgate watched you cling to the little blond, tears streaming down your tiny face. He was impressed by the boy's will to protect you and the bond you shared despite not being related.

"If they feel this strongly why on earth would you split them up?"

Your eyes snapped toward the man.

"That's just how it works sir, sometimes even siblings have to be separated. Our goal is to get them into a loving home, sometimes it's by all means necessary." the woman replied taking a step toward Marco.

"Marco was it?" Newgate leaned forward, "How would you like to leave here with your sister?"

Marco remained guarded but gave the man a nod.

"Then there we have it." he boomed, "Do you kids have any special belongings you'd like to bring?"

"But sir, you've only done the paperwork for F/N." she gaped.

"Then make copies for the lad," he smiled at her, "I'm doubling in fees. One would think you'd be thrilled."

"Boys?" you asked, "as in more than one?"

"Three." Pops nodded.

"She's just upset she won't be the baby anymore, yoi." Marco teased.

You swatted the blond.

"Two seven-year-olds and a four-year-old," Thatch confirmed.

"Awe~" you sang, "They're just babies!"

Marco rolled his eyes while Pops smiled and shifted.

"We'll go shopping tomorrow they've given me the boys sizes and the youngest will need a booster seat for the dinner table and the car." your father rumbled.

_____________

"They're here, yoi!" Marco shouted up the stairs.

"I'm coming!" you covered the receiver of the phone to reply, "Shanks, I have to go my little brothers are here."

"Call me tomorrow, babe." your boyfriend cooed, "Good luck with the rug rats."

"Of course. Now I gotta go before Marco drags me down." you flushed and said your goodbyes before hanging up and excitedly rushing down the stairs.

Thatch entered the house first with the small raven haired toddler in his arms. The two older boys followed with wide eyes taking in their new surroundings. The youngest shifted against Thatch's chest and turned toward you with an adorable grin. Immediately your heart melted, every fiber of your being was beckoned to protect him for all time.

"This is your new brother, Marco and your sister, F/N." the brunette introduced pointing at each of you

"I'm Luffy!" he chirped, tiny voice full of confidence.

"This is Ace," Thatch pointed to one of the boys who looked up at you with large ruby eyes that only accentuated the smattering of freckles on his face, "And this is Sabo." he motioned toward the other boy with messy blond hair.

The older two crossed their arms remaining guarded though Ace gave you a curt nod Sabo's green eyes refused to acknowledge you or your siblings.

"They've been to a few rough foster homes so give them some time." your father piped closing the front door behind him.

"Well, welcome home." you murmured, "Would you like to see your room?"

Luffy reached for you wrapping his legs around your waist.

"You guys have to share for now, but we'll be moving soon, and you'll have your own spaces, yoi." Marco added.

"We're used to it." Ace muttered following you up the stairs with Sabo far behind.

"Can I stay wis you?" Luffy asked squeezing your neck.

You squealed internally that the cutie in your arms already seemed to be attached to you, "Of course you can! I'll even read you a story."

After giving the boys a tour of the house and backyard Thatch called everyone in for dinner, which was a bit of a mess to say the least. Luffy rocked back and forth and side to side in his booster seat after clearing his plate trying to snatch food away from your and Sabo's plates as you both were stationed on either side of him at the table.

"I've never seen a toddler eat so much." Thatch said quickly fixing Luffy a second helping.

"Please hurry I can't fend him off much longer." You muttered blocking the kid again.

"He's always like that." Ace commented handing Thatch his plate to fill next.

"Are you not hungry?" you asked Sabo watching the blond poke at his food.

His green eyes moved toward you before quickly glancing away. He had been like this all evening carefully listening and watching but refusing to speak or make eye contact. It bothered you that he seemed to distrust the family so much. He must have survived some trauma in foster care.

"He'll eat when he's hungry, lass." Your father rumbled, "No pressure lad, if you don't like it there are plenty of other things to eat."

"But this is real good," Ace added.

The blond scrunched his nose at the freckled boy as if he were betraying him somehow. You could only hope he'd warm up to the rest of you in time. As you reached to wipe Luffy's face clean there was a sudden clatter of dishes and cutlery. Ace seemed to have passed out in his food splattering mashed potatoes everywhere.

Marco panicked and stood yanking the boy from his seat as he groggily opened his ruby eyes and muttered, "I'm not done."

"He has narnolopsy." Luffy chirped.

"Narcolepsy." Sabo quietly corrected.

"Does this happen a lot?" you asked watching Marco help Ace wipe his face and clothes.

"Yus." Luffy replied.

"If I'm still for too long or bored I guess. It's not so bad." the freckled raven replied getting back to his food.

After dinner, you set the boys up for a bath. It seemed the three felt comfortable all going at once though you worried if two seven-year-olds could really keep an energetic toddler in the tub or from drowning for that matter. So, you waited outside the door listening for any distress until they were done.

Luffy rubbed his eyes and yawned wide as you tugged him into the living room to pick a kid-friendly chapter book off the shelf. Not knowing what he was looking at he just picked the one with the most colorful cover and handed it to you.

"Pirate Adventures? Good choice." you hoisted him up on your hip and took a seat in the old recliner in the corner of the room.

Leaning back and covering up with a throw you read until Luffy was sound asleep snuggled into your chest and your eyes were too heavy to keep open. You dog-eared the page and set the book aside before drifting off yourself.

Some hours later your slumber was interrupted abruptly by the blaring pinging of the home security system. Not feeling the weight on your torso anymore your eyes shot open in a panic. Luffy was gone. Covering your ears, you stumbled to your feet and bolted up the stairs as the house phone began to ring.

Marco had already burst into the boy's room and was holding Sabo by the back of his shirt. All three boys had full backpacks strapped to their backs and the window was half open. Finally, the alarm cut off as Thatch entered the room still speaking on the cordless phone.

"No worries, it was just our little brother's opening the window," he spoke politely as he frowned at the boys.

The coming days, weeks, months, years, were sure to be interesting.

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Ghost x Soap

Ghost finds Soap sitting by himself during a party.

Extreme fluff, slight Hurt/Comfort, Somewhat of a First Kiss, Pre-Established Feelings, Domestic Fluff, Flirting, Banter, Soft, Romance, Drabble

WC: 1.3k~

Author's Note: I want to write more for Ghost x Soap, but I admit they're challenging to convey in a way I like. I hope this doesn't feel OOC or like a bunch of nothing; I'm still practicing, but please enjoy! ´･ᴗ･`

Masterlist

Ghost found Soap sitting to himself on the back patio; it wasn't like him to be the one to go missing during a get-together.

He'd been outside for nearly half an hour now, alone, with only the setting sun and the warm summer air to keep him company. His body all but molded to his lawn chair as he lounged, head rested back to count the clouds. Laughter and music from inside played muffled between the glass door and the outside world around him, and it had been enough for him not to feel so alone with its transparent presence.

Soap turns upon hearing the back door slide open, and smiles when his oceanic blue eyes find the dark browns of his lieutenant, raising up in his seat as though he'd just been called upon. Johnny always tended to pep up just a little more anytime Ghost was near. It seemed like everyone noticed this but Johnny, in fact, Ghost included. Ghost especially.

"L.T.!" He greets the man as though it'd not been a few minutes ago that he'd just seen him. That time apart may as well have been days, according to the Sergeant; time often dulls without his superior around. "Something wrong?"

Naturally, Soap hadn't expected his teammate to be out here for no reason whatsoever. Ghost never was a man to move without meaning, a fact which often extended beyond work. However, when Soap sees the sudden awkwardness slip out from Ghost upon hearing his question, it excites the young Scotsman.

"Couldn't find you," Ghost says, his voice doing its best to say as much without the words coming out as frail as they felt on his tongue, having spent the last five minutes looking for the man like a lost child. "Thought you up and left."

Soqap starts to grin like an idiot, and Ghost knows already he's said too much. At that point, he hadn't needed to hear what the man had to say in reply; he was sure it was already one Ghost's heard before.

"Come lookin' for me then, aye L.T.?" the Sergeant teases. "You goin' soft on me now, big guy?"

"Not in the slightest," Ghost says plainly.

Soap merely chuckles, letting his large arms fold over his chest as he's rested his head back against the lawn chair. He'll take his small victories where he can get them; Ghost never made them easy to earn.

"It's OK if you were," he teases, his tongue twisting along with his accent in ways that Simon couldn't help but follow along to eagerly. "You don't have to say it, mate. Besides, I'd say goodbye first, you know that."

Ghost rolls his eyes, though he soon pulls a chair over for himself and sets it right next to Soap shortly after, not having needed much of an excuse to join him. Even Ghost had felt as though these get-togethers grow tiresome without the Sergeant's presence. It makes time move at a snail's pace.

To answer Soap's question from before he'd sat down, the lieutenant then presented to the Sergeant a half-finished cup of Sprite and Tequila he'd mixed in a red solo cup earlier.

"You left your drink."

Soap gives Ghost a rather shy grin before taking his drink, promptly taking a sip once the cup graced his hand again. "I knew you cared, Ghost."

Though he sighs to himself, Ghost's body buzzed with excitement. Had it been Johnny's words that had been the culprit, or that larger-than-life smile he gave him after the fact?

He knows he'll start staring again if he ponders the question for too long, so instead, he makes himself comfortable in his chair, having settled with joining Soap's former gaze above the clouds, which grew more and more seldom with the setting sun.

Ghost has already helped himself to a cigarette two minutes into the silence, a natural course of events that happens whenever the man has more than two minutes to himself outside.

Being in the comfort of close friends in a private setting, he'd forgone his mask, happy to not have to fumble around with it tonight each time he took a sip from his drink or went to eat something. The others still seemed to gawk at him every now and then, as though they'd never seen a man before him, but Simon found it a fair tradeoff all the same. One day their heads will turn in ways like with every other. And for the first time in a long time, he'd been OK with allowing that change to come, however slowly.

No doubt Soap always enjoyed seeing the face of his superior, this man he's grown such an uncanny attachment to, yet it couldn't be more natural. He enjoyed watching the way the muscles in his jaw flexed and moved, his scarred lips pursed over a cigarette, and dark eyes hooded as he hunched over to light the end. Once done, his eyes close, taking in the nicotine, before sinking back into his chair with a dramatic huff, releasing the smoke back into the atmosphere around him.

Soap always knew Ghost to be a rather animated individual, even with his mask. Without it, that fact was indisputable, and the Sergeant couldn't get enough of it.

"You know," Soap only continues. "If you wanted to come out and sit with me, you didn't need to use the drink as an excuse."

"Is that what this is?" Ghost asks sarcastically. "An excuse to come look for you, Johnny?"

"I hope so."

Soap smiles, and Ghost wonders if the man can see every witty comeback he had lined up for him give way to something far softer. He doubts the Sergeant even planned that line; he always did just say whatever came to mind.

Ghost settles back in his chair, letting his eyes following the passing crows. He huffs some more of his cigarette, they always did relax him, even more so with Soap. Always with Soap.

"I wouldn't need an excuse, Johnny."

A rough hand slides itself over Ghost's battered knuckles softly, as fingers gently entangled themselves between his own. The man's gaze looks over almost hesitantly, his heart caught like a lump in his throat when he immediately meets his Sergeant's endearing stare, with a smile that didn't need to speak of how he felt. It spoke for itself.

Ghost let out a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding; always being left at the edge of his seat with these encounters, even with the smallest of actions. A smile forms as quickly as the breath leaves him, his hand settling in Soap's and taking better hold.

As though to leave him with little time to recover, Soap then gently brings the man's hand up to his lips, feeling his breath feather over him, before being replaced by equally light kisses, one to each knuckle.

Soap wanted to kiss his skin, kiss all the scars, all the grooves and marks the world has littered his body with. If his lips could make them no longer matter, being but the skin he wished to hold closely to himself, then Soap would kiss every inch of his knuckles if allowed to continue.

Once he's felt his lips graze his skin, however, Ghost can't help but yearn for more. He lets his callous palm curve over the scruff of Soap's facial hair, cupping the man's well-defined jawline as though he'd never have the chance to do so again. For Simon, he knew all too well how true a reality that could be, and it's made him cherish these moments as they come.

Ghost lets himself lean over his chair, as awkward as it had been, given his sheer size, before bringing his lips over, until they've found the soft mouth that had been Soap's. He kisses him slowly, tasting the blend of tequila and nicotine on their tongues as they gently lapped at one another. Both men feeling just as they've always daydreamed of on their loneliest of nights.

Soap then jolts suddenly, before chuckling against Ghost's lips, pulling back lightly. "You just spilled my drink, mate."

Ghost looks down, seeing the spilled mess he'd now made in Johnny's lap, a small pool now having formed over his jeans. He merely chuckles to himself, before letting his eyes luridly lift back to him.

"Looks like you'll just have to take them off now," he purrs.

Soap lets his hand rest against Ghost's neck, before leaning forward to plant another quick kiss on his lips. He let his other hand run over the man's chest, sliding down greedily, before stopping just short of his waistline. "Was this your plan all along?" he asks.

Ghost smiles, a playful glint lighting in his eyes. "I've no idea what you're talking about, Johnny."

Thank you so much for reading this, it truly means a lot to me. Lately, I've felt in a bit of a funk with my writing, but I'm hoping to write more soon and get back into it.

A while back I did a poll for a Soap x Ghost x Roach thriller/horror fic. I've been working on the outline and it's coming a long way. But alas, I want to improve at writing Ghostsoap before tackling that behemoth.

Feedback would be absolutely appreciated and welcome, however, I'm just happy if you enjoyed what you read 🙂 if you didn't, tell me what I could do better please, I'm serious 😭

Thanks for reading! ｡^‿^｡

[olympeline]

I've definitely been bitten by the writing bug for Hetalia. I just started a FrUK superhero AU fic based on a certain mid-00s movie. Going well, but I'd still love to have a beta look over it. Especially since I've been out of the fandom for so long and am rusty on details. My usual beta isn't into Hetalia so she can't help me, which is a bummer

So yeah, if you're a beta who's available and might be interested in taking a look over this fic, maybe get in touch? I'd be super grateful!

If not, please just enjoy some FrUK fun :>

Mr. & Mr. Bonnefoy-Kirkland

He was going to be late.

Francis rolled back the silk sleeve of his costume and checked his watch. Night had fallen outside the dingy warehouse where he and his allies were waiting, but on the ceiling a light blinked weakly. Providing just enough illumination for Francis to see the numbers on the face of his rolex. Scratch that, he was already late. Arthur would not be pleased, and Francis’s husband was never one to be shy about sharing his displeasure. Especially recently. Francis wasn’t foolish enough to have his phone on him at times like this but, if he had, he knew it would soon be blowing up with texts from his rightfully irritated spouse.

They’d quarreled about Francis’s lateness just last night when he’d come in long after dark. Francis’s excuse was work as always. Arthur hadn’t been in the mood to hear it.

“Too many nights in a row, Francis! For God’s sake, tell someone else to do it!”

“I can’t, cher. We are just so busy with the new line. They need me.”

“You’re telling me there’s not a single designer at Saint Bonnefoy who can fill in for you for one sodding night?” Arthur’s angry tone was laced with disbelief. “What the bloody hell did you hire them for, then?!”

“Forgive me, mon amour. This is too important. I will try to be home sooner tomorrow.”

Arthur had glared at him, eyes narrowed to green slits. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but had stomped back to the kitchen to stress bake instead. A plate of charcoal scones for his dinner was a fitting punishment, Francis supposed. He also supposed that Arthur might not have let Francis off the hook so easily if not for the fact he often worked late himself.

“Sorry, love. Had to look over Lovino’s latest before leaving. Needed a lot of revisions.”

“Of course, lapin. I understand.”

Francis was a fashion designer with his own label and a permanent slot on the roster of every catwalk in the world. Arthur worked as a journalist for the French branch of a world renowned London newspaper. Both of them put in long hours and had done so ever since they’d met. They each knew the demands of the other’s career and Arthur, like Francis, usually showed a lot of understanding. Usually. His patience had frayed recently from night after night spent alone in their apartment. Missed dates, dinners, and outings galore. Guilt gnawed at Francis along with deep seated irritation and regret that he couldn’t just explain his constant absences. His other life had been making great demands on his time as of late.

What was Francis’s other life? An outsider might have guessed an affair but Francis would never. No, no, nothing so gauche as cheating. The truth was that Francis Bonnefoy-Kirkland was a supervillain. A deviant with an alter-ego known and feared throughout Paris and beyond. By day, he was Francis: the gorgeous, chic, undisputed king of couture. By night, he was Rose Noir; florakinetic, thief, and - before he met Arthur - gentleman seducer extraordinaire. Sometimes he worked alone, sometimes as one third of Night’s Europa: a villainous trio composed of himself, Matador, and the Teutonic Knight. Or Antonio Fernandez Carriedo and Gilbert Beilschmidt to their friends.

For three years Francis had balanced his marriage, his job, and his heists with the practiced ease of a multi-tasking, metropolitan CEO. Recently, this had changed and Francis suddenly had far less time to devote to Saint Bonnefoy and, more importantly, Arthur. Antonio and Gilbert were in the same boat and often brought gloomy tidings of the diminishing harmony in their respective personal lives. 

All thanks to the man who had become the default leader of Night’s Europa for the last half a year: General Winter. The villain that all members of the trio now had to listen to whether they liked it or not.

And Francis most certainly did not.

Neither did Antonio or Gilbert but unfortunately there was nothing they could do. Not if they wanted to go on living. Life had been so much sweeter when they were a simple team of three out for riches. Then one day Matador walked into their hideout with a strange, tight expression that Rose Noir and the Teutonic Knight could see even through his mask. He told them he’d been approached by Killer Frost (one of the General’s subordinates) with a “request” from the big boss: an alliance between the Blizzard gang and Night’s Europa.

From a tactical standpoint it made sense. Many villains had migrated to Paris in recent years, which in turn led to a surge in heroes arriving to try and control them. Once heavy hitters like Freedom’s Eagle and the Jade Dragon arrived and started throwing villains in jail left and right, the writing was on the wall: making friends was a good idea if you wanted to stay free. Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert all wanted to refuse the alliance even so, but they couldn’t. Everyone - hero, villain, or civilian - knew what happened to those foolish enough to cross General Winter. Even Freedom’s Eagle, the world’s current no.1 hero, struggled when up against the General. Feared him too, if villainous scuttlebutt was to be believed.

Saying “no” was off the table. So the three villains reluctantly sent their acquiescence back with Killer Frost, and Night’s Europa entered an uneasy alliance with the Blizzard gang. They met with them soon after in the dockside warehouse that the four Eastern Europeans used as their base.

“I am very glad you all are agreeing.”

The General’s voice was high-pitched for a man of such huge stature. His blank, white mask hid his face completely, but Francis could hear the smile in his voice.

“I am thinking we will be very good together, da?”

Francis, Antonio and Gilbert nodded in silence. Da.

Everything had changed after that. The alliance between the Blizzard gang and Night’s Europa was supposed to be an equilateral one. General Winter had promised that they would decide on the details of each heist democratically. Technically, he had told the truth: they did vote. The reality was that Killer Frost, Snow Warning, and Ice Winder all voted however General Winter did. Not out of loyalty, but because they were simply too terrified of their leader to do otherwise. They’d seen his brutality up close.

Night’s Europa had that pleasure not long after the first meeting. A bank job interrupted by a naive, suicidally stupid, young hero trying to punch far above his weight. Heroes were enemies and Rose Noir took pleasure running rings around them, then leaving them bruised and humiliated. That didn’t mean Francis would ever forget the look in the young man’s eyes as he died. The sounds of his screams as the General slowly broke and tore him apart, inch by inch.

“You are very naughty boy,” the General cooed over all the pleading and sobbing. “Very naughty. Naughty children must be-” a wrench, a snap, a shriek of agony. “-taught.”

By the time the hero was dead, the white of the General’s costume had been dyed a deep red all the way up past his elbows.

They’d been forced to watch the entire sadistic spectacle. Afterwards, once alone, Francis had staggered to the nearest alleyway, pulled up his mask, vomited everything in his stomach, and kept retching long after that. Then he went home and clung to Arthur all night. As a supervillain, Francis was certainly no angel, but this was something else. This was evil. This was sick.

“Don’t,” Killer Frost said when Matador and the Teutonic Knight had confronted him after that first murder. “I know what you’re going to say. Just don’t. Please…just do what he says. Just obey him.”

“Why stay with the psycho?” Gilbert demanded. “You saw what he did! He’s fucking insane!”

“I know,” Killer Frost replied in an accent Francis guessed was Lithuanian or close. “I know that. How could you think I don’t?”

“Then why listen to him? Why not fight back? It’s three against one!”

“Six with all of us,” Antonio put in.

“Ja, totally! Come on, freezer burn, we could take him!”

But Killer Frost just silently shook his head and would not be moved. Neither would Snow Warning or Ice Winder. Without their support, what could be done? Francis wasn’t confident they could take on the General even with their help. Without, it was suicide.

“If you try to leave over this, he’ll kill you,” Frost said dully. “It’s you or them. And if he can’t get to you, he’ll get to someone you love.”

“He doesn’t know who we are,” Francis argued.

“He’ll find out. Trust me, he’ll find out somehow. And then…”

Killer Frost’s breath hitched.

“Just…don’t make trouble, Rose. Please. Please just don’t.”

Francis wanted to brush off Frost’s words, but they had sparked a sickening fear in him in spite of himself. Francis thought of Arthur. Winter getting to him may have been an empty threat, but could Francis really afford to take that risk? He pictured coming home and finding their apartment wrecked, the General waiting for him in the rubble, his costume once again soaked with blood.

Blood staining the carpets. Blood splattered on familiar furniture. A body on the floor. Blond hair turned scarlet hanging limp over a caved in skull. Green eyes open but seeing nothing.

The terror was too much. Francis decided to behave himself. Antonio and Gilbert must have felt the same fear because they didn’t raise any more objections. Just kept quiet and pretended not to see or hear what they could never hope to forget.

What bitter irony that the man who called himself their ally was giving Francis more turmoil and sleepless nights than his nemesis ever had.

Francis heard the metallic creak of the door opening and pulled himself free of bleak thoughts.

“We are here! And look: I bring someone for a visit.”

The General was back at last. Back and dragging another unfortunate victim. A very familiar looking victim. Francis did a double take.

Speak of the devil.

The man General Winter dragged was a hero. One that Rose Noir knew well; from the white plume on his hat, down to the hem of his famous red coat:

The Pirate Gentleman.

One of Europe’s premier superheroes and a member of the international J7 team led by Freedom’s Eagle. Famous in equal parts for his aquakinetic powers, his checkered past as an ex-supervillain, and his hot temper complete with salty mouth and angry tirades that would put the most ornery sailor to shame. He also happened to be Rose Noir’s arch enemy.

“Though not a very nice guest, I am fearing. So rude. Very uncooperative, also.”

General Winter shoved the Pirate Gentleman out in front of him and the smaller man staggered and then went down hard, unable to keep his footing. Francis saw blood matting the back of his hair. This and the way he moved suggested a concussion. The Pirate was bloody all over: battered and bruised like he’d been set on by a heavyweight boxer. Which wouldn’t be far from the truth if he’d been brawling with General Winter. Who was nearly as strong as Freedom’s Eagle on top of his infamous cryokinetic abilities.

“But then we talked,” the General suddenly giggled, high pitched and chilling. “Talked and talked and talked, yes, yes! YES!”

He drew back a steel tipped boot and slammed it into the Pirate Gentleman’s unguarded ribs. The hero choked, heaved and spat out a glob of blood mixed with saliva. Francis tried not to wince and risk drawing attention to himself. That kick had to have cracked a few bones. Those that weren’t cracked already.

These last four years, the Pirate Gentleman had been, if you’d excuse the irony, a real thorn in Rose Noir’s side. Ever since he’d left his native London to help combat the French capital’s rising supervillain problem. Prowling the streets looking for trouble, he’d soon bumped into Night’s Europa and, rather than wait for backup, jumped into the fray to take on all three himself.

“Fucking ballsy,” Gilbert said afterwards. “Gotta admit it. I’m gonna break every bone in the shitty limey’s body next time I see him, but still. Gotta say it like it is: guy’s got a pair on him!”

Francis and Gilbert had to grudgingly agree. Grudgingly because they’d just lost the night’s jewels to their pop-up foe and giving him any kind of compliment stung, however deserved. Such beautiful specimens of emerald. Much better to be adorning Rose Noir’s elegant hands than cooped up in some stuffy museum. Francis still might have forgiven the Pirate Gentleman and allowed him to slip down into the category of “easily ignored irritation” like most of Paris’s other heroes. If the foul mouthed rosbif hadn't had the bare faced nerve to insult Francis’s professional pride the next time they met.

“Didn’t realize I was still in the West End! Who designed your outfit, frog? Andrew Lloyd Webber?”

Francis’s jaw had dropped. Worse, he was so distracted by the hero’s appalling remark that he’d let his focus slip enough that the Pirate had almost pinned him. If not for Matador and the Teutonic Knight, Rose Noir would have ended the night in jail.

After that it was on. Oh, it was on.

Rose Noir’s gift gave him power over plants, including the ability to grow them fully from seed in seconds. Meanwhile, the Pirate Gentleman’s gift was controlling water. A substance in plentiful supply thanks to the pipes and canals that ran through the city. Butting heads, scuffling, and brawling, they soon found out they were evenly matched. All over Paris they’d played their game of cat and mouse and Francis lost many a treasure to the Pirate’s exasperating dogooder ways.

Even so, Francis would not have wished this on him. The man was a foul mouthed, uncultured, pest, but even he didn’t deserve what was surely coming to him. All he had left to hope for now was a quick death.

“But perhaps all is too hasty. Perhaps our friend has been thinking it over and now has a new perspective, hm?”

General Winter rolled his prey onto his back and pressed his boot down on those wounded ribs. The Gentleman Pirate gasped and wheezed, a line of blood bubbling and trickling from the corner of his mouth. He probably had a punctured lung.

“Perhaps he reconsiders the Blizzard gang’s kind offer? Perhaps he remembers his past and knows the leopard isn’t changing its spots so easily? Perhaps he sees friends of snow all stronger and better together, rather than sad and alone…?”

Ahh, so that was it. The General took pride in the fact that all the snow and ice based supervillains were part of the gang he’d founded. Making them part of his twisted family whether they wanted it or not. The Pirate Gentlemen’s power over water gave him some cryokinetic skills. He’d be a perfect addition to Winter’s little “collection.” General Winter must have approached him the way he did Night’s Europa, but the Pirate Gentleman would have turned him down flat. Everyone in the hero/villain community knew he was reformed, ferociously so. Too bad for him the General obviously hadn’t taken the rejection well.

The Pirate’s lips were moving. General Winter bent down and cupped a hand to his ear.

“Sorry? You are saying what?”

“F-f-fuck you…”

The General slammed his boot down. They all heard the sickening crack. The Pirate Gentleman jerked forward as much as he could while still pinned, mouth open in a silent scream. Then he fell back; twitching, jerking, and choking on red froth. Even Gilbert looked nauseated.

“You are very silly man,” General Winter said serenely.

He reached down and pinched the corner of the Pirate Gentleman’s mask between his forefinger and thumb. Francis’s eyebrows jumped up in shock. Surely, he wasn’t going to-?

“Silly, silly, silly. Let’s see the silly, silly face.”

The General tore off the Pirate mask in one fluid motion. Revealing the bloody and bruised face beneath.

Francis’s heart stopped.

Arthur.

Arthur. It was Arthur. Francis’s husband. The man he’d pledged his life to and promised to love till the end of his days. The Pirate Gentleman was Arthur. His Arthur.

He had been all this time. Every time they’d fought, it had been Arthur under that mask.

Francis couldn’t take it in. It was like he’d stumbled into a dream, it was-

General Winter’s hand was wrapped around Arthur’s throat. Francis had seen him snap necks like toothpicks many times.

“NO! STOP!”

[acourtofthought]

Hello!

First of all I would like to say that I love your blog so much! thank you for all your work with books and theories! ❤️‍🔥

Some time ago, when HOFAS was finally released, I saw some of E/riel's comments about Azriel's and Nesta's words about her role in the liquidation of King of Hybern.

It's a bit funny that I see their ideas without my own will. But, well, it's the internet.

It has been suggested that Azriel and Nesta know that Elain is disgusted by violence, and so don't mention her important role in that deal.

And Lucien doesn't know her at all. The fact that he mentioned Elain's role in it is another proof of his incompatibility with Elain. It's as if he didn't care that she doesn't like violence and didn't understand that she might feel uncomfortable when he noticed her role in the act of violence....

It's fantastic how they can justify any disrespect for Elain by others by claiming it's a good thing.

What do you think about that?

First I love your gif, Maggie Smith conveys everything you're talking about with a single look. And thank you for your ask! ❤️ I think the argument you're referring to is pretty ridiculous E/riel take. Elain doesn't like violence but that doesn't mean she won't admit to the part she played in something. "I just stabbed him". Elain gave herself credit for stabbing the King, correct? She made sure to give Nesta credit too but she didn't say, "I don't want to talk about that", she didn't say, "I had nothing to do with it". She also said, "You do not decide what I can and cannot do" in SF and I'm taking that to mean Elain would not appreciate Az and Nesta deciding for her that she should not receive credit for something because they figure she doesn't want it. They do twist the most insulting things to Elain's character just to force together the mismatched puzzle pieces of Elain and Az. Somehow Az claiming Elain should not be exposed to the darkness of the Trove after SHE JUST VOLUNTEERED is romantic. Somehow Nesta claiming Elain was a dog and that she shouldn't be allowed to do anything dangerous are good things? Somehow Az not thinking of how to actually be with Elain beyond his sexual fantasies is a declaration of love on his part. Also, it's pretty amusing they'll claim Nesta and Az were protecting Elain because they know she doesn't like violence while turning around and calling her Kingslayer in their posts, creating fanart where she has a dagger strapped to her thigh, where they'll claim the NC's torturer is her perfect match, where they'll write about how Elain knows the details of Az's work and she's fine with it.

As far as Lucien, I think it's clear when Elain hadn't left her room for weeks, and wasn't eating, sleeping, or drinking until Lucien arrived and insisted they get her outside that he knows her way better than he had any right to considering they were strangers. Az seemed pretty unaffected by Elain's comatose state and he had met her before. I'd much rather a guy give me credit for my bravery and leave it up to me to decide how much credit I want over a guy giving me zero credit for anything because he assumes I'm a shy little flower who needs protected.

[the-forbidden-pookie]

Pleasantries

Tw: SFW, can be read as gender neutral tho written with a fem reader in mind, fluff.

Pairing: Wanderer x Reader

--------------------------------------------------

"There's no need to exchange pleasantries. It's rather pathetic to force a conversation, just to occupy silence."

"Sure buddy," you say with an eye roll "so you've said a million times already."

The two of you have set up a small camp near the outskirts of Sumeru City, taking a rest after a long afternoon of clearing the fatui infested routes. You were sitting across from each other with a small camp fire between you.

"And yet idiots like you keep asking me pointless questions." He replies haughtily.

"It's what friends do dude, you chat together about stuff you like, or... " You smile mischievously. "Would you rather when it's my turn to cook, I make you a pile of extra sweet tricolored dango? Or what if, say, I hand them over to you as a gift in front of Nahida?" He glares. "Something tells me she won't just let you dump them somewhere." You say smugly.

"...I'd like to see you try."

"I'm just saying, that would definitely make you annoyed right? So you like, have to tell me your likes and dislikes." You pull out a notebook and pen from seemingly nowhere and prepare yourself to write; "Go on then don't be shy," you smile cheekily, "tell me everything."

He sighs. "...Fine, just to shut you up." He looks up towards the night sky. "I loathe overly sweet things, even more so if they stick to my teeth. As for favorites... I guess in that regard, the simpler the better."

The wanderer watches as you scribble into your notebook, it's cover turned to him so he can't actually see the contents of the page. "I see, and what drinks do you enjoy?" You continue.

"Something with a rather bitter flavor to it would suit me well. Any sugary drinks are certainly out of the question."

You hum. "Makes sense." You say distractedly, then flip the notebook and show him you had not, in fact, been writing anything he told you. Instead there were poorly drawn stick figures of the both of you holding hands and smiling. "Say, do you think I have a future in the art business?"

"Well, that's just downright awful." He scoffs. "No one would hire you. You lack understanding of basic human anatomy; the arms are too short, the torso too thin, the face is almost beyond salvation, and the hair... I'm not even sure it's supposed to be hair. Do better."

You fall out of your seat cackling, your whole body shaking. "Dang dude you're brutal!" It takes effort for you to subdue your laughs. You stand, but instead of returning to your previous seat you go sit on the log next to him, still giggling to yourself.

"Well, I try. You asked for my opinion, you should expect nothing less than honesty."

" 'K, 'k. So, what about you? Can you draw?" You sit next to him, but angle your body to face his.

"I've never been very good at it, to be honest. The only things I can draw are maps and blueprints. I've even used to have a rather elaborate sketchbook full of those."

"Oh?" You say, grabbing your notebook-now-revealed-sketchbook again, flipping it to a new page. "Were those from your fatui days? When you were planning... Fatui things?"

"You could say that. My drawings of my personal projects in particular were highly confidential. I only showed them to my closest confidants."

"I'm surprised you even had confidants, with that nasty temper you had back then." You pick up your pen and go back to your scribbling.

He crosses his arms "You're really testing my patience here."

"What?" You respond teasingly, eyes focused on your work in the sketchbook. "You're the one that likes honesty so much!" You challenge.

"Fair enough. Then I'll be upfront with you: your drawing skills suck. They're terrible. If you think there's talent in that hand of yours, you're lying to yourself."

"Mhm..." You respond distractedly, your sketchbook turned away from him like before.

"Are you even listening to me?" In a flash, he's reaching for the sketchbook to see whatever it is you're-

You slap his hand away, albeit not harshly. "You'll see when I'm done ."

"...Fine. Keep your damn secret. What could that page possibly be for? You still think you can be an artist, don't you?"

You look up at him sharply, and keep eye contact for a long moment, long enough he worries he'd actually managed to offend you, but then you go right back to the sketchbook, ignoring him once more.

"...You really are the most annoying person I've ever met." He grumbles.

That brings a chuckle out of you. "Funny I could say the same about you," you respond easily, then glance up at him with a soft smile "but you know, you're also my favorite person to hangout with.

"...Did you just make a romantic implication?"

"Maybe I did and maybe I didn't." You reply casually, going back to your work.

He raises a brow. "Hmm. Do you happen to have feelings for me by any chance?"

"Is that your attempt to get a confession? Or maybe..." You glance up at him with a smirk, "Fishing for compliments, wanderer?"

His face flushes a soft purple. Pretty you think. "That was absolutely not what I was doing, I was simply... uh..."

You giggle. "Either way," you say, rising from your seat and carefully tearing out the page you'd been working on, then handing it over, revealing a sketched portrait of himself, signed : What if I do like you? -(y/n). You take a step back, awaiting his reaction, feeling uncharacteristically nervous.

"What... He stares at the drawing in awe for a few moments ...How did you manage to capture my likeness this fast? This is almost creepy." He adds the last comment almost out of habit, clearly not meaning it one bit.

"Then I guess I should spend less time with you? That is the only reason I was able to draw you this fast... Maybe we should hangout less, since you find it so unsettling." You say with mock offense.

"No, that's not... Don't leave. And didn't you promise not to, anyways?"

He stands and takes a few steps closer to you and looks at the drawing again. "My hat... the sleeves... that's all correct. Are you, by chance, a professional artist in disguise?"

"Just a hobby," you answer, "though don't think I was born with special talent or anything, it took lots of practice."

"I..." He lightly runs a finger on the lines, careful not to smudge them, not that the material he's made out of can really do that. "It's beautiful. I could never replicate your passion to the craft, even if I spent my entire existence practicing. He looks towards you. "It's an honor to be the subject of your drawing. I'll keep it, as a keepsake."

That's unfair you think, flushing. "I'm glad you like it but..." You point at the signature, your blush deepening. "You're not gonna answer that? It's rude to keep a lady waiting."

"I was expecting you to confess directly if you did have feelings for me, this shy side of yours is quite unusual." He chuckles. "I've always found that directness of yours charming, to be honest. My feelings for you... are complex, but if I know one thing about you, it's that you always manage to surprise me." A smirk spreads across his features."

"...So what's your answer?" You ask carefully.

"I'm a bit surprised myself. I've never felt so... connected to someone. If you like me, even as just a friend, then my feelings for you will only increase. I enjoy spending time with you." He takes a long breath. "And... I think I've started liking you... romantically."

You sigh in relief, and start shifting your weight from leg to leg oh archons that was nerve-racking.

"I thought you liked being straightforward. You've been teasing me this entire time, why be nervous all of a sudden?" He says with a smirk.

You glared at his teasing, though without any real heat behind it, you shove him lightly on the arm "Shut up." You mumble.

He chuckles. "You really are adorable, you know that?"

You mock pout and play along. "I'm not adorable!" You speak in the most cutesy tone you can muster. "I am a beast to be reckoned with," You raise your pitch further, "a monster of nature!"

He bursts out laughing. "You couldn't scare a butterfly."

You halt, cutesy voice already gone and a dangerous glimmer in your eyes, you take one step forward towards him, your eyes not leaving his "Funny, you said I had horrible drawing skills yet look how that turned out." You take another step, and with your mouth now next to his ear you whisper darkly. "Do you want to bet?"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his heart started racing as he took a step away from you. "...Maybe I shouldn't have said that."

You burst out laughing. "Oh my gosh your face!" You say, happy tears welling up at the corner of your eyes. "I got you good! Pffffft-"

"...You suck."

You laugh harder, letting yourself slide down to the floor like before. "S-sorry, but hey! You're the one who underestimated me first!" You say gasping for air.

"You nearly gave me the equivalent of a heart attack, you little..." He sighs, his expression serious. "...So I suppose this means you like me too?"

"Your laughs die down, and you start regaining your breath, you raise your hand cheekily, motioning for him to help you up "What do you think?"

"...I think you can help yourself." He crosses his arms and looks away from you.

"Oh come on don't be like that!" You say grinning. "Just help me up and I'll give you your answer."

"...Fine." He walks towards you, grabbing your hand as he asks "So what's the verdict?"

Just as he starts pulling however, you bring him down on the ground next to you, and just before he has a chance to protest, you wrap your arms around his neck bringing your faces so close with just a few inches between you.

"...Woah, easy now. You really do have a flare for the dramatic."

He lets out a sigh in defeat, in another life, the empty cavity of his heart would have been thumping at the contact.

"But doesn't it make everything so interesting?" You say, slowly inching closer, your eyes glancing between his eyes and lips.

The Wanderer can barely manage a response, "...Yes. Yes, I suppose it does."

And then, you close the distance between your lips, his eyelids falling shut.

The moment your mouths meet, a feeling of pure euphoria washes over you. You can't help but close your eyes, sinking deeper into the kiss. He pulls you closer and you gladly let him, wanting to experience every possible sensation you could in this moment, your mouths locked together. Your heart races, pumping blood and joy through your body, making you feel like it would burst at any second.

After a long moment, you pull away slowly, already mourning the loss of contact but needing to catch your breath. "Well that was... Nice." You giggle at your own underwhelming response, fully aware the kiss was much more than nice.

"...Nice?" He repeats, looking down at you, his face a bright purple color as he tries to compose himself. "Is that all you have to say?"

"I'm just teasing, you're an annoyingly good kisser Wanderer." This better not raise his ego further.

He tries to act cool and unfazed, but it's useless. "R-really? Are you sure about that? I mean, it was nice, but... it was... Uh."

"Yes I'm sure." You say firmly, rising, and pulling him up with you. "It was perfect."

His eyes narrow as if he didn't quite believe you.

"Yes. It was." You insist , then, back to your usual teasing you say: "Or do you want more compliments oh great and wise Wanderer?"

He groans, covering his face with his hands. "You're going to milk every moment of this, won't you?!"

"But of course! Can you really call yourself my boyfriend if you weren't subjected to my teasing in your every waking moment?"

"Boyfriend?" He looks back up, his expression slightly confused, then "Right... Yes. That's... Gonna take some getting used to."

You sigh dreamily at his cute expression, then throw your arms around him in a hug and sqweel at his cuteness.

He remains still for a few moments, then starts gently stroking your head.

But at some point, you stop and pull away slightly, you don't let go of him however. "Wait! Would Nahida approve of me?"

You manage to catch him off-guard, not expecting you to break the embrace so quickly. "You want her to give us her blessings? Is that what this is about? I think, all things considered, she'd be more than happy to learn that I found someone who appreciates me as much as you do."

"Still, she's basically your mom!" You say, starting to drag him towards the Sanctuary of Surasthana as he squirmed in your hold. "We should pay her a visit. Oh! Maybe we can grab her a gift at the bazaar first!"

He sighs, then stops resisting, and lets you pull him along, knowing there's not a whole lot he can do to stop you. "You really want to involve her in this?" He sighs again."Very well. Let us go."

[nattyontherun]

Okay. Okay fine! I'll explain (some!) of the YOI IWTV AU :] (no one asked. The one person who asked has been crying and served me divorce papers already. That's alright, I'll win them back. @sugarbunbie haha takemebackplsibegimnothingwithoutyo-- EHM EHM ANYWAYS!!)

So I've been having brainworms. Brainworms in proportions hitherto undreamth of. And those brainworms begin and end with Viktor as Lestat!

Haha. I'm not joking.

If you follow me on AO3, or at least read a few of my latest (very short) fics, you'll be well aware that the reason I've slowed down writing is because my laptop is busted and I've been using my phone to update stuff. Very sad, I know. What I did NOT account for, however, is the utter lack of decorum watching s2 of IWTV would give me, let alone the grand ol' idea of making a YOI AU out of it.

I'm still kinda stuck at the stage where haha, Viktor!Stat.

Anyways seeing as updates are slow and, very likely, I won't dive beyond IWTV s1-2 in terms of plot points (and since it's not a 1:1, at all, I say that with a lot of caveats. Character journey, perchance? Emotionally, rather than physically and actually. Smth smth self actualization for our LouClaudia characters, ehm. As I was saying!!) so I figured I'd make a small Tumblr post the way I did for my NRT threesome AU series ( - which I HAVE NOT DROPPED BTW!!! It's just really long and plotty, and I need an actual writing-specific device to work on it since I need to do more research!!!), just explain a few things that may be lost to the crevices of the AU series.

1. I described the first part of the series, seek me with dead eyes (embody me) as kind of a stand-in for the San Francisco fiasco in 1973, because it's not a proper "interview". I'm debating on keeping it that way for the sake of a more compact story, particularly because I don't plan to delve more into the "DM" of this AU,,,, but I will confirm that the interview with Georgi is the basis for many of the fics that follow, even if Georgi doesn't feature predominantly/at all.

2. Yes, there will be Yuuri and Viktor-centric fics to come. Yuuri's will probably be the last one of the series, and the Viktor fic will be a gift. I'm honestly excited to write it, he's the whole reason I bothered to drag my fingers over my phone keyboard and WORK at this au!!

3. Reiterating that Yuri and Yuuri share the burden of being both Louis and Claudia, for the reason that neither of them could EVER be a 1:1 of either of those characters and to put them in such boxes would be a disservice to all four characters involved lmao.

It's particularly for this reason, plus the fact that I'm not framing Yuri as a "son" for Viktuuri, that the focus of the series has morphed. I still think and want to ensure that the AU remains very much about grief, loss and loneliness - but the heart of it will not be about the horrible death of a child.

Will the fic series be less devastating to account for these changes? Maybe? I'm very inclined towards horror myself, if you've looked into my catalogue more, so I'm not shy about introducing some of the more grotesque, vile shit that happens in IWTV, but I figure if it doesn't serve a purpose in the narrative I'm building, I won't bother with writing it out because, again, I'm using my phone and I have wrist problems djsjsjjdjd.

4. Speaking of: there are plenty more characters in the AU, from YOI, that serve as an amalgam of IWTV characters too! Unlike YuuYu however, they have no counterpart to 'shoulder the burden' so to speak. You'll probably know them when you see them, as they crop up over time. It's especially relevant for Viktor's half of the enfolding story!!

5. I'm honestly just making this Tumblr post because I'm a. Bored and b. Driving myself up the wall with each new revelation I'm making out of this AU. None of which I've put on here, I think, thankfully. Very spoiler-y, that. Hahahahahaha. I wrote much of the very first fic in a mad haze and now I'm rethreading it to write out the plot more, beyond that burst of sudden all encompassing inspiration - and I am absolutely insane. I really am. Feel free to DM me here or on Discord or utilize asks if you're intrigued or wanna toss questions - I will absolutely answer because it's all I'm yapping about for the next forever and ever.

K thanks bye!!!