#then let me know because these are hilarious to me for some reason. i love making them. 10/10 extremely funny
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lucifaron ¡ 2 days ago
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Honestly the responses in defense of Rita on this confession's reblogs (and that one time I debated with one of her fans in a priv discord) is why I don't bother with her in fandom.
(the rest is under read more for major character salt)
(sorry if any of my followers are fans of the character. i have this under a read more for a reason.)
"you can forgive it cause it's stupid anime tropes??" / "it's just sibling stuff, i hit my siblings all the time".
Let me tell you that as far as anime goes, I don't find Raven perving on the girls funny either, and that too is a "stupid anime trope". Karol has a flinching animation for whenever Rita raises her hand at him or looks at him like (^_^) because it's supposed to be funny, but it didn't get me rolling around, that's for sure. And I'll be the first to say Karol is far from my favorite in Vesperia. So it's certainly not that I'm defending Karol cause he's a fave. It's cause I just don't find this gag amusing and I don't like how this unlikeable trait from Rita is conveniently forgotten in fanworks (and yes, I mean fanfics).
Like don't lie to yourself and say that if the genders were reversed, you'd be twisting yourself to make excuses for male!Rita's abuse. The thing is: Rita doesn't hit anyone else in the party. She only hits Karol cause... why? Cause he's smaller than her? Cause "girls hitting guys is hilarious" as far as anime standards go? You are aware that's what bullies do, right? They target people smaller than them cause they know they can't fight back.
Rita doesn't hit the other characters cause it just "wouldn't be as funny". Or maybe cause if they wanted their characters to be IC, very few would put up with her bullshit. I guarantee you Yuri would not take being smacked or punched by a 15 year old brat lightly. But again: It's not funny to see a tsundere (esp a female) have the tables turned on them.
While Rita does have SOME (ie: rare) pet the dog moments for Karol, most of them are overshadowed by her punching him in the face, hitting him in the back of the head, or tricking him into getting paralyzed by a wild plant. Not to mention the amount of times she puts down Karol's guild like calling it stupid or criticizing him for not knowing what the Purpose is with said guild. The whole "she grew up isolated/has no social skills!" may be a reason for why she acts the way she does, but it's not exactly an excuse.
I've said this before, but the reason why a "bratty" character like Luke fon Fabre is more tolerable than Rita despite both being genuinely unlikeable when you first meet them, is that Luke is constantly called out by the party for his attitude. It actually gets to the point where you start to feel bad for him because it's clear they don't take him seriously and just write him off as some "ignorant noble" when in reality, he has every reason for questioning things. We also know that if Luke ever got physical with a human (cause Mieu don't count), like Tear, for example, the fandom would be flipping tables and in an absolute uproar. But no one calls out Rita. No one sticks up for Karol. And that's where the "dumb anime tropes" start to ruin the character.
I'm fully aware Rita has a very... passionate fanbase, but you can't tell others to "be critical of their faves" and not be critical of your fave. I'm sorry I don't see her as this sad uwu babey with abandonment issues and think that in comparison to the other characters, she absolutely did not get dealt the worst hand. I'm sure Flynn, Yuri, and Karol would have loved having a roof over their head and a meal on the table every night of their childhood, never mind a fucking job (she's employed by the empire, remember?). And no, Karol was isolated too, so the "had no family/friends" excuse doesn't exactly work for Rita in this case.
...Also, there's a difference between "play-hitting/fighting your siblings" vs. "smacking them and calling them stupid in a not-so-teasing tone"... Just saying.
So yes, OP is absolutely fucking right that if the genders were reversed for ANY of these characters, no one would be excusing them because it's "not funny for men to hit women, but it is for women to hit men". I only picked out Rita cause it seems in the responses, she was getting defended the most, and nah, fuck that. I will not hesitate to call out poor character writing when I see it.
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light-wrath-paradise ¡ 4 months ago
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Starting a collection
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(the WITCH edit is by XeniyaMZ on DeviantArt)
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can-of-slorgs ¡ 1 year ago
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Completed the Shenkuu Stamp collection some time ago, so it was only fair to draw my girl Mirsha
#neopets#neotag#neoart#vin doods#gnorbu#drawing this was actually really fun in a way that when i was looking for references i didn't know she was such a lesbian icon#not surprised but hey lets cheer for the lesbian alpaca!#I'm not as happy with the colors as I thought#I'm a bit rusty in just really warm colors without it looking burnt for some reason HJSD#but looking at pictures of AC teams have made me really fall into my old virtupets fix#i love everyone so much on that team and not really that many ppl play for it#i still remember winning a long long time ago and was completely blown away as it was basically just 5 ppl in a forum going mad#i just really love the designs of most of the players on all groups??#i don't even like playing in the AC that much i just love the characters LMFAOO#i think i still remember I drew fanart of Sela and the gelert from the darigan team when i was like 8-9 and submitting in onto deviantart#and getting hate comments probably like 8 years later because i missed his wings or i made them too small or sth#that was hilarious thinking about it now but it did made me hate the darigan team for that year SDHFKSD#ok this is too long it always ends up wit me just rambling#I love my boy XL Striker 3.8 and Sela#ok nobodys reading uhhhh#send me an ask with the weirdest emoji out of context if you've read this far tbh nobody cares by this point HJSKSFD#idk if ill draw someone for the AC team everytime i complete a stamp collection but if i'm feeling like it maybe#or if they're requested tecnically#thats it bye
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vaguely-concerned ¡ 6 months ago
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I've been picking mostly only the essential flirt options with lucanis in the romance so far (I've personally found the dynamic much more natural and mutual when you do that, more like forming a solid friendship slowly and inevitably becoming something else and less like you keep pushing on him and getting little back b/c he seemingly just gets overwhelmed and goes into freeze instead), and I think rye is a pretty hard person to read at the best of times even though he's been Down Real Bad from pretty early on and their chemistry as people is naturally really good. so the way the almost-kiss plays out in this playthrough feels a lot like it has the added layer of lucanis realizing that no but for sure rook is flirting and not just being kind or a good friend* it IS actually happening it's not just wishful/fearful thinking!!! and then uh. maybe going a bit too hard a bit too fast in all the excitement at that revelation haha
*in lucanis' defense he has seemingly literally never had a friend who wasn't his cousin-brother before, under those circumstances I suppose some confusion is extremely natural if not outright expected lmao
#meanwhile rook is kicking himself for being unprofessional b/c he WAS getting something important from spite there#and also lucanis had like. just woken up was that cool of me. should I have told him. should I have slowed that down???#watcher's duty crashing into watcher's longing blues ensues#dragon age#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#dragon age spoilers#lucanis dellamorte#oc: Ellaryen Ingellvar#rook x lucanis#rookanis#I think I might have done something hilarious and a little wonderful to the lucanis romance#by making a rook who's even slower to romance than he is fhskjfhsa#even here I was straight up like 'oh this is a little early for this don't you think' on rye's behalf (it's not we have to be mid-game)#imagine how he'd fare in some of the other romances you'd just bowl him over. davrin might kill him#(and also they would kill each other for unrelated reasons during it but that's another matter (affectionate I love my lads))#lucanis has been squinting at rook in stolen moments ever since the cafĂŠ scene like '...did I imagine that vibe. surely not right.#i'm pretty sure. but am I. I do know he likes me. but DOES he like like me or is that just what I want it to be. this is very embarrassing#for everyone involved' (it is)#davrin has had both their numbers the entire time tho. and been extremely annoyed but professional about it#he knew from the moment these two chucklefucks showed up in his recruitment mission. and has been an adult about it. mostly#even when they've made it real hard ('so I'm gonna go ahead and assume you're not letting the abomination serial killer run around#just because you're transparently excruciatingly sweet on him. right. RIGHT??')#I have accidentally given lucanis a pattern of falling for people who keep covered neck to toe at all times#but like not to be a metaphor for their emotional intimacy issues or anything haha. imagine.#I'm making my own heart so tender by imagining lucanis struggling to get rye out of his (many-layered) robes during the romance scene#and both of them laughing right from the soul in relief and delight at each other b/c like 'how could I kill a god only to be bested#by nevarran fashion. also how in the maker's name do you get dressed so quickly in the mornings this is intense'#'same way one does anything else lots of practice and a can-do attitude'/'well I'll just have to put in the practice then'#and they just hug for a while. *head in my hands* yeah okay I can be normal. I can be normal about this.
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eclips-moon ¡ 6 months ago
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The Batboys being clingy headcanon:
Including Duke and Bruce <3
Hope you guys like it!
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Tim Drake Tim’s clinginess is low-key, but it’s also constant. He’s the type to text you “What’s up? I miss you <3” while you’re just sitting 5 feet away from him. If you so much as stand up to go get a snack, he’s immediately there, like, “Where are you going? Don’t leave me.” He’ll lean against you, his hand finding yours without him even realizing it. When you're watching TV or reading, he’s definitely leaning into your side, trying to get as close as possible without being too obvious. But if you move to shift positions? Nope, he’s following you. He’ll slip his arm around your waist, all like, “Don’t think I didn’t notice that.” He’s not a big PDA guy, but when it’s just the two of you? Prepare for cuddles, hand-holding, and small, random kisses. He’s gotta be touching you constantly.
Jason Todd Jason is obsessive, no doubt. He’s that partner who’ll try to act like he’s tough and independent, but the moment you show him any kind of affection, he’s all over you. Like, you can’t just hug him. No. He’ll climb into your lap and basically trap you there, rubbing his face into your neck like a cat. He’s gonna constantly ask for kisses, too, but not just little pecks—he wants full-on, deep kisses where he can pull you close and remind you that you’re his. If you’re doing something, like, working or even hanging out with friends, he’ll try to drag you away, be like, “Hey, come hang out with me, stop ignoring me for two seconds.” He’s possessive, but in the cutest way, constantly needing your attention. If you even talk to another person for too long, he’ll give them side-eye and pull you back to him like, “You good? You’re not gonna leave me for some random guy, are you?” He’s also the type to cling to you in bed, hogging the covers and curling up like a human koala.
Dick Grayson Dick’s clingy energy is pure gold. He’s the most affectionate of the bunch and doesn’t shy away from public displays of love. He loves hugging you from behind, nuzzling into your neck, and just randomly planting kisses all over your face. He’ll text you “miss you <3” every few hours when you’re apart, and when you’re together? It’s all about touch. He’s sitting on your lap, or leaning on your shoulder, or pulling you into his chest just because he needs to be close to you. If you’re watching a movie, he’s definitely going to have his head in your lap, just to be as close to you as humanly possible. He gets giddy when he gets attention from you, too. You could be playing with his hair, and he’ll melt. He’ll whine like, “I’m not clingy, you’re clingy. But also, I love it. So don’t stop.” Honestly, Dick doesn’t care if he’s acting like a bit of a puppy—he’s obsessed with you, and he makes sure you know it.
Damian Wayne Damian’s clingy moments are hilariously dramatic. He might start out cold, acting like he doesn’t need anyone, but as soon as you show him any affection? He’s all in. He’ll randomly grab your hand and hold it like it’s the most important thing in the world. If you try to walk away from him for whatever reason, he’ll growl and pull you back in, like, “Where are you going? You’re staying right here.” He has this whole vibe of “I don’t need anyone else, just you”, so if you’re talking to someone else or looking away from him for too long, he’ll wrap his arm around your waist and be like, “I don’t think you should be talking to them. They might steal you away from me.” In bed? He’s a hug monster, wrapping his arms around you like he’s never letting you go. He’s all about the intimacy, though—when it’s just the two of you, he’ll be soft and surprisingly vulnerable, making sure you know that he needs you more than he lets on.
Duke Thomas Duke is lowkey super clingy, but in the way that’s goofy and endearing. He loves to follow you around, like, just wherever you go, he’s tagging along. You’re going to the kitchen? He’s there. To grab something from the laundry room? He’s there. If you sit down, he’s sitting on the floor next to you, asking if you want to “cuddle and watch dumb shows together.” He’s always finding excuses to touch you—like, his hand will just casually rest on your knee or he’ll come up behind you and play with your hair. And if you don’t give him attention? He’ll pout, even if he’s trying to play it off, like, “Aren’t you gonna give me a kiss? C’mon, don’t leave me hanging.” He’s the type who’ll give you a silly smile, lean in for a kiss, and then pull you into a full-on hug like, “Don’t go. I’m not done with you yet.” He’s all about the hugs, especially after a long day. You’ll be just chilling, and suddenly he’s like, “Hug time, right? Let me get one.”
Bruce Wayne Now, Bruce is not the type to openly admit he’s clingy. He’s still the stoic, brooding billionaire who’s been through a lot, but when it’s just the two of you? He’s softer than anyone expects. He’ll always make sure you’re physically close—his hand on your lower back, your legs touching when you sit next to him, and if he’s standing near you, his hand will casually rest on your arm. When you’re working late or doing something serious, Bruce will occasionally pull you away for a few minutes just to kiss you or hold you close. He’s not great at asking for attention, but when he’s feeling clingy, he’ll show you through little gestures. You’ll find him just sitting beside you in silence, just content to be in your presence. He’s a man of few words, but when he’s clingy, it’s all about the touch—the way he holds your hand, how he presses his shoulder to yours, and how he’ll insist on driving you home or waiting up for you, just to make sure you’re safe.
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flwrstqr ¡ 2 months ago
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HONEY, HONEY ⠀ ⟡​⠀ WHEN THEY WANT YOUR ATTENTION ───𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍
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𝓲⠀⠀ ⦂ enhypen & fem!rea 𝑖𝑛 8OO fluff one shot head canon 警告 cursing, skinship, petnames, jealousy & click . . ( 𝓲ssue )
다니 ⠀⦂ ⠀this is dedicated to juni & annachu (> <) i know i alternated the title a bit & the prompt... but hope you guys enjoy xoxo. also thank you jenn for help on certain members 💌
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LEE HEESEUNG
"baby, don’t you think you’ve talked about that guy enough?” heeseung pouts, arms wrapping around your waist as he buries his face into your neck. “i mean, sure, he helped you with your project, but did he hold your hand while you stressed over it? did he kiss your forehead and tell you you’re the smartest, prettiest person ever? no? exactly.” he leans back, eyes narrowing playfully. “i bet he doesn’t even make you laugh like i do. does he send you good morning texts? compliment your hair? tell you how much he adores you?" he intertwines your fingers, bringing them to his lips with a pout. "face it, angel, no one loves you like i do," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your jaw. "so how about we focus on me now, hmm?"
PARK JAY
jay doesn’t say it—he never does—but you know. you feel it in the way his arm drapes over your shoulders, effortlessly pulling you against his warmth as he scrolls through his phone with his free hand. in the way he tucks your hair behind your ear, fingertips lingering for just a second too long. in the way he exhales softly, setting his phone down as if nothing else in the world matters except you. "let’s go out," he murmurs, voice low, but there’s no second-thinking. an expensive dinner, a shopping trip where he never lets you check the price tags, his hand resting on the small of your back, guiding you through every store. you don’t have to ask, don’t have to wonder—because when jay wants your attention, he gives you all of his first.
SIM JAKE
“baby, look at me,” jake whines, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tight around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “why aren’t you paying attention to me? i’m right here.” his lips graze your skin, warm and teasing, pressing soft kisses along your jaw. “you love me, don’t you? then love me properly,” he pouts, nudging his nose against your cheek, hands roaming your back in slow, lazy circles. when you hum in response, still distracted, he groans dramatically, placing his head onto your lap. “you’re so mean to me,” he sulks, his voice muffled. “just wanna be spoiled by my baby. is that too much to ask?” he lifts his head, eyes big and pleading. “one kiss, and i’ll forgive you.”
PARK SUNGHOON
sunghoon is shamelessly competitive when it comes to you, and it’s honestly hilarious. the moment another guy dares to make you smile, he’s swooping in. “your hair looks really nice today,” some guy says, and before you can even respond, sunghoon’s already cutting in, sliding an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “nice? angel, you look like you just stepped out of a dream. actually, scratch that—you are the dream.” his voice is smooth, like he’s making sure you don’t even think about entertaining someone else’s compliment. when the other guy laughs, trying again with, “you have a really pretty smile,” sunghoon scoffs, tilting your chin up. “of course she does. it’s the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen, and, by the way, i’m the reason she's smiling.” he smirks, eyes flickering to you, desperate for confirmation. “right, baby?”
KIM SUNOO
sunoo is so dramatic when he wants your attention, and he makes sure you know it. he starts with a loud, exaggerated sigh, arms crossed as he leans against you. when you don’t react fast enough, another sigh—longer, heavier. finally, you glance at him, and there he is, bottom lip jutted out in the deepest pout, eyes wide and pleading. “baby…” he whines, nudging his head against your shoulder. “you’ve been ignoring me for so long.” (it’s been five minutes.) when you try to hold back a laugh, he only pouts harder, leaning in until his face is this close to yours. “don’t you feel bad? look at me,” he insists, tilting his head. “my lips are a bit lonely today.” and oh, he’s expecting it now, tilting his chin up ever so slightly, waiting for you to finally give in and kiss the pout away.
YANG JUNGWON
you barely register the way jungwon tugs at your wrist until you suddenly find yourself pulled onto his lap, his arms circling around your waist with ease. “baby—what are you doing?” you laugh, but he only hums, resting his chin on your shoulder like this is the most natural thing in the world. “you weren’t paying attention to me,” he mumbles, voice laced with the smallest pout.you huff, pretending to be annoyed, but the way your heart races betrays you. “you could’ve just asked, you know,” you murmur, but he shakes his head, squeezing you a little tighter. “this is better,” he grins, tilting his head up to meet your eyes. “now you have no choice but to focus on me.” and when he nuzzles into your neck, you know he’s already won.
NISHIMURA RIKI
“baby, pay attention to me,” riki whines, snatching your phone right out of your hands with that smirk. he holds it high above his head, effortlessly out of reach, and you groan, standing on your tiptoes to grab it. “oh? trying so hard, huh?” he teases, laughing as you struggle. determined, you lunge up, but just like every cliché romcom, your foot slips, and before you know it, you're crashing right into him—chest to chest, his arms instinctively wrapping around you. “woah, princess, if you wanted to be in my arms, you could’ve just asked,” he chuckles. you glare, cheeks burning, but he only tightens his hold, grinning down at you. “you’re cute when you’re flustered,” he muses, finally handing your phone back—only to boop your nose and whisper, “but i’m still the only thing you should be looking at.”
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specialgradefckr ¡ 4 months ago
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Cutest Girl Alive~
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tw: explicit content. brat!reader, gojo is not a brat tamer he is a brat enjoyer, hate sex vibes, very very tsundere!reader, gojo is hilariously oblivious about how annoying he is, reader is kinda mean (not without reason...)
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satoru gojo who just doesn't know what your problem is.
he really doesn't! suguru doesn't believe him, of course, but it's true - he didn't do anything. at least not anything that would warrant you asking if his "inbred, illiterate ass is too important to file a report".
ichiji said it was just because his paper backlog made things difficult for everybody. but the inbreeding comment was uncalled for!
his mom is super hot, though. he told you as much, and offered to set up a date, just in case you swung the other way.
unfortunately, the only thing that swung was your hand against his face, which didn't make contact, but it still hurt his feelings!
(you'd looked him dead in the eye. "good." walked away.)
and that wasn't just an isolated incident!
he'd caught you at the vending machine, bent over. satoru had politely refrained from slapping your ass and loudly announced how hot it was.
perfect gentleman!
whereupon you had turned around, smiling tightly, and offered him the soda.
"see," he teased, cracking it open, "i knew you could be nice if-"
the soda sprayed all over his face. your smile looked a little looser, a little realer, and your laugh - while awful and wicked - had been terribly adorable.
when he started to laugh with you, though, you just glared. rolled your eyes, and walked off in the middle of the conversation.
and just. random moments! your face falls into an admittedly cute pout (suguru says it's a grimace) whenever he walks into the room.
"how's your day been?"
"good, until you got here."
like, he's not crazy here. you're just being mean.
honestly, it's kind of funny. or it would be funny, if it didn't kind of hurt a little.
suguru doesn't get the same kind of response. when he begs, pleads, and bribes suguru into asking you what you don't like about him -
"if i had to say... everything."
whereupon suguru had burst out laughing.
mean!
but that's the thing, though. you were nice to suguru, to everyone else.
you're not a bitch. you're a bitch to him.
he's special.
you don't treat anybody else like this.
why is that, satoru ponders. why do you especially dislike him?
suguru says it's his shitty personality. joke's on suguru because his best friend has been some guy with a shitty personality for about a decade now! loser.
anyways, he comes up with a plan. he texts you from another phone and number, something perfectly random and polite. a picture of a cat he found on the street.
(you love cats so you'll definitely respond. he knows because he's been popping in on you for several weeks now. it's not stalking because he doesn't follow you! and that was so rude of suguru to say!)
the conversation that follows is perfectly pleasant. sweet, even. he enjoys it, right up until -
mean girl <3: hey could you do me a huge favor actually? satoru gojo: anything 4 u kitten!! mean girl <3: kill yourself gojo
his number is blocked.
whoops. wow. do you have a built in satoru gojo detector or something? what is he missing? what gave him away???
suguru looks over the texts and just stares at him blankly at the question.
"well? what could have clued her in?"
"oh, god... satoru, if you can't tell, just forget about it. and stop trying to fool her."
he probably should. stop, that is.
he's not following you but he's definitely teleporting into places he knows you'll be. trying to run into you. constantly. daily. hourly, even.
he likes to stay updated on all your missions. your favorite restaurants. maybe he watches you a little.
there's just something that draws him in. your quick wits, your derision. the way you look at him with all that fire.
you want to laugh at him. he wants to laugh with you.
and yeah, he gets rock hard when you yell at him. he'd let you slap him but you don't bother trying anymore after hitting his infinity that one time. bummer.
it's a late summer evening - sun still up, orange on the horizon. he's stuck filling out reports, you're stuck grading papers.
in silence, as always. you'd never speak to him unless it was to insult him.
"hey," satoru says all the sudden, "you wanna fuck?"
the silence that fills the room is colder, harder -
"are you fucking serious?" insulted, outraged - that's about what he expected.
but... if he looks with the six eyes... if he glances at your sympathetic nervous system, if he squints really hard and swears three times over, maybe he can convince himself -
"you're not totally against the idea, are you?" he draws himself up from the table, smirking.
hooking a finger in his blindfold like he's trying to remind you just how long they are.
you stare at him.
"dead serious," he confirms, "right here right now. i can be fast."
"i don't doubt it." oooh, there's that bite again, "i doubt i'd enjoy it."
his smile bares teeth.
"wanna bet?"
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and fuck, just look at you now. look at you!
with all six eyes he is. and satoru likes what he sees.
hunched over, teary eyed. face bright red. you used to scowl at him with that face, that pretty face, all hard lines and snarled lips -
and look at you now! so cute and precious and soft! so sweet he wants to take a bite out of you.
you even yelp, adorably, when he nips at the inside of your thigh. sensitive, twitchy.
he's dizzy with it. with the taste of you, of your cum. your high pitched little whimpers in his ears are still ringing in his ears, along with your mean retorts.
"where's your smart mouth now, baby?" he teases, lips glossy with your slick.
and god, it's even fucking hotter watching you try to glare while blushing and trembling and blinking away tears of overstimulation.
"sh-shut up and put your dick in me, gojo," you bite out, "if you even know how."
you jolt when he kisses your cunt, looking you in the eyes while he does it.
"awh, you poor thing," he cooes, crawling up your chest to go face-to-face, even as another hand goes to dig his cock out of his pants, "so impatient."
he can tell it riles you up. that you don't know what to do, trapped in his gaze.
"fuck off, gojo."
"i'll fuck you," he says with a snicker, kissing your throat. like he knows you won't let him kiss your lovely little pouty face.
how could he not have seen it before?
(well, he had his blindfold on for one. but the principle of you being unsettled by your attraction towards him still stands!)
he lines himself up, nice and easy. feels your unsteady hands reach, cling to his shoulders, and that's almost as hot.
you look down to avoid his gaze, but then your eyes widen at the sight of his cock. huge and pink and throbbing.
"yummy, right?" he croons, "you can have a taste after if you want. you're so sweet, you deserve a lick or two."
you make this sharp gasp, the most adorable, helpless noise, your whole body jerking as he plunges into you, and satoru nearly cums just from that.
cute. cute cute cute cute so fucking cute he's gonna go crazy.
he bites at the place your shoulder meets your neck just to sate himself. soft skin, tender flesh. salty and slick from sweat.
you melt in his mouth. around his dick. whimpering and sniffling and mewling little demands.
"get on with it, gojo, fuck, is this your first time - "
"first time fucking a cunt this wet?" he purrs between sucking marks on your neck, "yeah, baby. it's crazy, how much you want me."
"you went down on me for like," another high-pitched squeak as he nips your ear, "t-ten minutes, dumbass. of course i'm wet!"
your hands claw at him, trembling just like your voice.
he shoves himself in, all the way to the hilt, disintegrating any coherence you had left. all you can do is cry out, wailing when his long fingers brush over your poor, swollen, tender clit.
"awh, baby, you can take it," he croons. his heart does a little delighted flutter when he sees your (utterly kissable) lips purse in annoyance, only to fall apart again when he pumps back into you.
"run out of nasty things to say, huh, baby?" satoru swears he can feel your pretty little clit twitching and pulsing at his touch, just like his cock throbs inside you.
his eyes glitter as he thrusts in and out. god, your hot fucking body tensing and shuddering against him, the exhaustion warring with pleasure and aggravation on your face.
there's not a single part of you that isn't utterly fixated on him. in this moment he's the most important thing in your world.
and it's glorious. your cunt is clenching him like a vice, unraveling him almost as far as he's already unwound you. little moans spill from your mouth, music to his ears.
that face, god, that fucking gorgeous face that's always frowning at him. so pretty now.
"look at you," he pants, close so close, "god, you're - such a bitch all the time - you just needed a good fucking, huh?"
satoru snatches your face by the jaw, looking you straight in the eyes.
they're all wet and messy and a little bit red. he's so close he has to press hard, fast circles into your clit to get you closer, closer -
"f-fuck," you sob, "fuck, hngh, you-"
he licks your tears off your cheeks, "just needed some good cock, huh? that's all it takes to shut your mean little mouth?"
clawing at his back. he feels you squeezing him for all he's worth, milking him -
"fuck, i'm cumming," he groans, bursting hot and liquid in your tight cunt.
you gulp down heavy, airy breaths. delicate noises as you tremble in his arms.
fuck, you're so gorgeous. satoru lays you back, your lashes fluttering, face flushed, spread out on the desk all limp and exhausted.
his ravished beauty. his little spitfire.
"see," he cooes, cupping your cheek, "all sweet for me now that you're filled with my cum. see how nice it feels when you're good for me?"
your hands shoot up, slapping his hand away, covering your face.
"your mouth is literally only good for eating pussy."
he laughs, leaning in to hold you against him. "and yours is only good for talking shit."
"maybe if you weren't such an asshole you'd know better." you snap, pulling back, sliding him out of you with a little gasp that gets his cock twitching again.
he whines at the loss of you, "awh, come on, don't be like that."
you roll your eyes. it's pretty incredible how well you're composing yourself, fixing your clothes and hair. taking a deep breath as you pointedly ignore his pestering and prepare to leave.
his bitchy, pretty baby. so much less intimidating when he's seen you moaning and cumming in his mouth - but he thinks you're even more adorable now.
"i gave you more than your fair share of orgasms, didn't i? show me what else it's good for~" he sings, staring at you the whole time.
you ignore him until you're dressed again. glancing at him from the corner of your eye. turning away.
"...next week after class." you say, stopping just before you leave, "i don't like owing people."
"heh." satoru watches you dart out the door, shutting it briskly behind you, smiling to himself.
maybe you thought he couldn't see it - as if he isn't always watching your face - but just before you left, he could tell.
the faintest dusting of pink on your cheeks...
you really are the cutest girl alive, huh?
(megumi tells him to stop whistling that day - he doesn't stop for an entire week.)
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chuluoyi ¡ 2 years ago
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✎ treasure
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- gojo satoru x reader
the strongest sorcerer meets his match in his petulant son, who inherits his six eyes and is having trouble with them
genre: taking care of your son with dad!gojo, fluff/comfort
note: AAAA i love this waaay too much!😭 this brilliant idea gave me baby fever so bad came from an anon who so energetically dropped by my askbox, thank you! and seeing this artwork by Yoon in twitter definitely gave me more ideas too!
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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"No!"
"Why? This helps—"
"That's ugly! I don't want to look ugly—like you!"
Satoru blinked in utter disbelief, and you broke into the most satisfying fits of laughter. In front of him, standing tall and sullen and very much like him was his own son, now barely five years old.
Your boy mentioned that he had been experiencing discomfort in his eyes lately, which also caused him to become dizzy. And Satoru attempted to persuade him to use a blindfold like he did because it was effective.
However, as we can see, his son didn't take his suggestion well at all. His bright blue eyes, ones your husband passed down, bore an intense glare aimed squarely at him.
"I..." Satoru sputtered, his eyes twitching. The sight was comical as no one had ever managed to elicit such a reaction from him. And no one ever considered him an unattractive person too! "I'm not—"
"You are!"
Once again, you let out a triumphant cackle, and this time your husband shot you a glare. But you didn't care. All those years of tolerating his antics had paid off. His son had finally put him in his place!
When he was a baby, you thought your son was Gojo Satoru incarnate. He was the spitting image of him—with all gaits and expressions too. And you had worried if he would turn out to be just as much of a menace as he was.
But apparently, life has other sweet plans because like you, he was a relatively calm boy, diligent, and didn't like to make a fuss. Satoru argued that it was definitely in his genes—claiming he had also been a sweetheart when he was a child, but you couldn't quite imagine him being remotely as reserved as your son.
That aside, the cause of this hilarious exchange did actually make you worry a bit.
"Look, I know it probably looks odd," Satoru gestured at the blindfold in his hand, but your little boy still didn't seem convinced by the pout he displayed. "But it will help you, I promise. If only you would—"
Oh, but it was almost like karma because besides his appearance, the other trait your son inherited from your husband was his strong sense of winning.
His face reddened from sheer indignation, and he once again screamed, "I don't want to! I'll just cover my eyes with—" he took a nearby napkin and pulled them over his eyes, "—this!"
Satoru sighed in annoyance, and you decided to jump in. Crouching down next to him, you gently pried the napkin from his hand.
"Papa just wants to help you, okay?" you reasoned, cupping his plump cheeks. Gods, he used to be this round thing in your and Satoru's arms and now he was already this big. "He uses it everyday and he has no problems, see?"
"But it doesn't look good..." Your son drooped his head in disappointment, and you could feel Satoru rolling his eyes beside you, evidently miffed at the thought of him being less than good-looking.
Parenting is challenging, especially when your husband still holds onto some of his childlike tendencies. So you decided to end the discussion here.
It was later at noon, while you were in the kitchen preparing lunch when you heard your son's scream and something crashing. Your heart was in your throat as you rushed to the backyard, only to see something that made your heart lurch even more.
Your sweet boy was wailing on the ground, clutching his head, and Satoru—
His expression was as horrified as yours if not more, as he ran and caught your son in his arms, pressing him tightly against his chest as if shielding him from the sun altogether. "Shit. Hey, hey—buddy, you okay?”
Satoru lifted him up and carried him inside. You were right beside him as he settled on the sofa, gently hushing your son, who was still shaking and had his eyes covered against his chest.
"M-My head..." your son whimpered, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. "...h-hurts..."
"It's okay, it's okay..." he murmured, caressing the child's hair in a soothing manner, and it reminded you so much of what he would do to you in the early mornings. "I've got you now, nothing’s going to happen to you. Hang on a little longer, yeah?"
You felt warm tears threatening to well up in your eyes at the sight. It was heart-wrenching to see your son in such torment, and the way your husband was consoling him deeply touched you. It served as a poignant reminder of just how many years had passed from when Gojo Satoru was still that brat who used to mess with you during high school.
Soon, your little boy's breathing became even, and he went to sleep in Satoru's comforting embrace.
You looked at him while biting your lip, undiluted worry in your voice. "What should we do? He's been experiencing pain often lately..."
Satoru really wanted to wipe that expression from your face, but with his precious child clinging onto him for dear life, even he didn't have the heart to.
"Don't worry, I'll be with him," he assured, a plan already forming in his mind. "If he hates blindfolds that much, then I'll get him some pairs of glasses just like the ones I have—for kids. We'll start with that."
Bearing the weight of his clan's revered eyes was a heavy burden, and honestly, he would prefer it if none of his children had to inherit them. After all, he went through it all too as a child—the manifestation of the six eyes' powers marks the beginning of life as a sorcerer. The perilous world he was still trying to keep away from his son.
Nonetheless, he would be there for him every step of the way. It was what he vowed to himself on the day he was born. He wouldn’t let anything befall him—or you.
You had calmed down after hearing his plan, and as you gazed at your precious boy’s innocent face in his protective grip and the gentle pats he gave him, you suddenly found yourself in a mischievous mood once again.
"Heh, quite the doting papa, aren't you, Satoru?" you winked, a teasing smile on your face. You could have sworn his cheeks slightly flushed as he retorted:
"Hmph. He is my personal little body warmer, after all."
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lesbianwyllravengard ¡ 2 months ago
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I think if Anders was the Inquisitor it would be super fucking funny for many reasons. I still don't know much da lore so pretend it makes sense lore wise even if it doesn't. I just think the Guy Who is On the Run for Bombing the Local Chantry accidentally becoming the Herald of Andraste is an insane idea. why was Anders at the Conclave. was it to make sure mages were well represented. was it to repeat Kirkwall if the mages weren't well represented. who knows point is, he's there and he has a plan but as he's roaming the halls he hears The Divine calling out for help and what the hell he has to find out what's going on. Domino effect of canon events happen and suddenly he wakes up in chains with Cassandra standing over him and asking for his name. And he says Anders because he still can't remember where he even is. And Cassandra is like oh my fucking God you're Chantry Bomber Anders from Varric's story. Of course you killed the Divine. And Anders is like wdym I killed the Divine. But he sounds a little too excited about it so Cassandra just gets angry. And then later they meet up with Varric and Solas and Varric is like holy shit it's Chantry Bomber Anders. What are you doing here Blondie. And Anders is like hey Varric, this scary woman says I killed the Divine. But again he sounds a little too excited about it so Cassandra gets more mad, but Solas uses Anders's mark to close the rift so now she has to keep Anders alive. And then the people of the Inquisition decide Anders is the Herald of Andraste and Cassandra has to believe Chantry Bomber Anders was sent by Andraste for some fucking reason. And Anders's faith was already rocky after Kirkwall but now this whole thing is a joke to him. Hi my name is Anders, that's short for Andraste's Herald. I am Maker Sent. Yes I blew up the Kirkwall Chantry, because God says to Free All Mages. And Cassandra still hates him and Cullen is still scared of him and the Chantry is mad that he's using Andraste's name but the people of the Inquisition believe he is Maker Sent so he has to stay and basically gets diplomatic immunity from Chantry retaliation. He sides the Inquisition with the Mages and tells the Templars to kill themselves so everyone is even more mad at him. Except the Mages who are finally accepting him as their revolutionary leader. imagine Cassandra's face when Leliana suggests making Anders the Inquisitor. of course he gets up there and is like I'm doing this for all Mages! And the mages are like Yay, we love Inquisitor Chantry-Bomber-Anders! And then Hawke shows up and she's like there you are Anders, my mentally ill wife, the children miss you. and Anders is like look Hawke I'm the Inquisitor now, and Varric is also here and he fights by my side again. And Varric is like no I babysit you for Hawke, there's a difference. And since Anders was a Grey Warden, when they're like we need information on the Grey Wardens he's like actually I can help with that personally. Of course I still hear Corypheus screaming in my head, but Hawke has yelled at me louder before so I'm fine. And he doesn't even get the choice between leaving Hawke or Stroud in the Fade because he wouldn't let Hawke die ever no matter what. There's also loads of chances for the Inquisitor to hate on blood magic and the chantry that I think really suit Anders. And he'd love to tell Cassandra that the Chantry sucks and should die. But anyways all that to say I think it'd be incredibly hilarious if the guy who is on half of Southern Thedas' shit list for bombing the Chantry suddenly became Jesus Part Two and more of a recognised religious figurehead than the Divine herself had been.
Edit: click the "Inquisitor Chantry Bomber Anders" to see me play dai as Anders
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evilminji ¡ 9 months ago
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Okay this is going to drive me INSANE. D:>
Dearly beloved, Phandom darlings...
Can DANNY EAT VIDEO GAME/TV FOOD?
I... I NEED to know. You don't UNDERSTAND!? Think about it. No, seriously. THINK about all those HIGHLY unrealistic, too good to be true, PERFECT looking meals. Animated shows n games etc where there are chefs who will "cook for Anybody!"
Now think about being 14 going 20. A teenager. A broke college student. Your fridge is empty and everything you touch? Comes back to LIFE. You're... you're just so hungry. Tired. Your bruises have bruises and you have a paper due tomorrow.
I kinda want to CRY.
Can only eat cup ramen so many times before you DO.
And this show? That commercial? Yonder cooking game?? Well... they did a REAL good job animating it. It looks so WARM. So FILLING and COMFORTING. You can practically SMELL it.
You look down at your sad, soggy, cheap but you can afford it, EZ Noodles and? Feel something BREAK inside. You... you KNOW you can travel inside technology. KNOW this. Have done it before. Why... why AREN'T you? You can't keep living like this.
You gotta TRY, right?
I? Wanna believe it TOTALLY works?? Because Ectoplasm is weird like that? And just shrugs? Says "actual food, the concept of food backed by electricity, what's the difference? Sure, we can fuck with this"? And so Danny? IMMEDIATELY fucking switches his diet.
Like? Dead stop screech, slam on the breaks, u-turn to take that last off-ramp. Type IMMEDIATE.
Grocery bill? No, no, you mistake him! No. NOW it's his "carefully researched for their cooking, games and shows" bill. Touch his collection and he'll FUCKING BITE.
They got sticky notes on the cases. Menus n lil fold out "grocery store" locations. He punched a dragon for this fruit. Mmmmm, home cooked meeeeeals~
Just? Weird Foodie Danny. Yes he DOES know what those steaks taste like. While YOU fuckers were staring at the cat girls bizangas, HE was eating granny cat lady's home made meatball stew! Ha! YOU FOOLS!
More then that? I want him to write reviews. Like "yeah, fight system was OKAY but- *5 hour glowing rant about the food, sounding like a food critic who'd actually fucking gone and loved it* " and people are like?? Who? Is this funky lil madman? This is hilarious?
I want it to be DPxDC JUST? So everyone slowly starts to play the game "Meta or Shtick?" Because no one REALLY knows who he is. This dude gets POPULAR though. For some reason can't be hacked (shame on you guys! Way to try and ruin the FUN!). And like? Eventually? Someone just fucking ASKS?
And Danny is like... " wouldn't YOU like to know, weatherboy?"
So everyone is like:
"Meta."
But hey... since they're already ASSUMING~? >:3c WHOOOOO wants to help him PAY RENT~? Let's VLOG this fucker! Wooooo! Say "hi" Catchef! *feline noises* like? It's like a let's play combined with a mukbang.
Teen Heros everywhere are FACINATED. Game developers are suddenly like? "If there's food. You BETTER make it look amazing. We want that weird YouTube twink to... whatever his powers are, our game! Free viral marketing!" Food channels? Rending their clothes, on their KNEES, please! PLEASE! Just ANSWER OUR EMAIL! Just ONE SHOW! A one off! Guest appearance!
We have MONEY!!!
All while Danny? Is finally happy with his life. Weird as hell. Harrasing the world. Good food on the regular. Gets to travel, kinda. Best of all? He's raising money from it! Can help people! Now... who wants salad?
@babbling-babull @hdgnj @hypewinter @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @dcxdpdabbles @the-witchhunter @lolottes
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raina-at ¡ 2 months ago
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I don't know if anyone knows what's going on in Austria right now except for the, like, three Austrians here, but a) it's objectively hilarious and b) can maybe serve as a lesson to our German neighbouring conservatives how NOT to go about this.
So. We had parliamentary elections on September 29th, 2024. The FPÖ, the far right party led by a guy named Kickl, won with about 28% of the vote. The conservatives had about 26%, and came in second.
What usually happens then is that the Austrian president then nominates someone to form a gouvernment. By law, he can name ANYONE he chooses. He could name some rando from the streets. He could name ME. Traditionally, however, and because gouvernment should have a majority in parliament to be effective, he names the leader of the party that just won a majority in the election. But since nobody has over 50% of the vote, they need to form a coalition to have a majority in parliament.
The thing is, Kickl is a very divisive figure, even for a far-right party leader. His followers love him. But not only does the president despise Kickl, but the entire 72% of the Austrian population who didn't vote for him hate his guts with a fiery passion. This includes most other politicians and definitely the then chancellor and conservative party leader, Nehammer. They all think he's an unreliable, arrogant asshole.
So the president basically says to Kickl, "Look, prove to me that anyone will even consider forming a coalition gouvernment with you, and I'll nominate you to form a gouvernment."
Kickl fails at this because, have I mentioned this, everyone hates his guts. He spent the last five years insulting and degrading everyone and now nobody wants to work with him, surprise Pikachu face.
So the conservatives, who for parliamentary math reasons know they HAVE to be in the next gouvernment, are like, "Yay, now we're up." So they start talks with the socialists and the liberals. Talks drag on. It's Christmas by this time, and they're all, Yeah, we love each other, it's gonna be FINE.
Shortly after the new year, news breaks that they can't agree and negotiaions are off, mostly because the business lobby part of the conservatives were all, "You know what, the FPÖ's economic programm is more to our liking, we should deal with them."
The chancellor, Nehammer, who's also leader of the ÖVP (the conservatives), nopes out at this point, because he hates Kickl's guts and he actually seems to have a conscience (gasp!). So the ÖVP elects a new leader and starts negotiations with the FPÖ.
At this point, Kickl does a victory lap, talks about how he WON (he got 1,5% more votes than the ÖVP, and the vast majority of Austrians, like I said, HATE him), and how he was first and therefore he has a MANDATE and the ÖVP needs to recognise that they're second place and how they should basically bow down, kiss his feet and thank him for the mercy of exisiting.
That's the point where we make popcorn and see how far the ÖVP is wiling to humiliate itself to stay in power (which, btw, they are GUARANTEED to do because, you know, parliamentary math). In the beginning, everything seems rosy. There's harmony because both hate women, the queers, foreigners and poor people, so there's a lot of common ground here. Meanwhile, we all slightly panic because the things that are leaking out are BAD. Like, BAD. Like, 'ignore the European Court of Human Rights' bad. Like, 'Vote against Russian sanctions' bad.
So some people in the ÖVP are like, You know what, this isn't FUN for us. Last time you guys were much nicer, seems Nehammer was right, you guys ARE dicks. And some of the things you want are, yanno, kinda nuts. So dial it back a bit, ok?
FPÖ is like, nope, our way or the highway. ÖVP are like, ok, so let's be serious here, guys. We need an absolute minimum of guarantees that you won't turn completely nuts.
So Kickl does what every seasoned party leader with the unique and once in a lifetime chance to become Austria's first far right chancellor (barf) would do. He takes his ball and goes home.
So now, guess what's happening?
We're back to talks between the ÖVP, the socialists and the liberals.
And this time it seems the ÖVP is actually taking it seriously because they realised that hey, the crazy Nazis are actually, you know, crazy, and, you know, Nazis.
So we might actually have a gouvernment before Easter.
And now our ÖVP probably future chancellor is in the news being all, "So shocking that the far right won big in Germany, but they're all unreliable jerks who can't govern constructively anyway." Which. Like. Surprised nobody. Except him.
I hope for our German siblings that your politicians will spare you this comedy of errors and won't discover the hard way that the far right are *checks notes* bad. Also Nazis, which are also *checks notes* bad.
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muqingslover ¡ 2 months ago
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Hii!! Love your writing!!
I wanted to ask if you have any hc about the lads men as fathers? For example, my hc was that Xavier is a boy dad that makes sure his kid will not end up listening to those "alpha podcasts" because he sets the example of a gentle yet "i slayed over 70,000 wanderers", kind yet assertive man. HOWEVER, since the level 175 affinity interaction came out, I'm 100% hes a girl dad raising his daughter to be a strong and independent woman (like the MC he loves dearly). What do you think?
[ my first ask! yahooo! thank you, pookie! I'll give you my thoughts in general (a big mix of everything) but if anyone wants one of the boys in more detail then feel free to ask because I have more to share! ]
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Alright maybe this is a hot take but I don't think he wants children, like at all.
Xavier does NOT like sharing. He's literally jealous of himself for goodness sake and he really, reaaaally, does not want to share you, especially not with clingy children that would take almost if not all of your attention and also his sleep.
In-game he's also shown to not be super fond of children in general which I find hilarious.
He's lived a long life, sacrificed everything and everyone for you, and spent the rest of his years searching for you. He believes he has the right to be a bit selfish and keep you to himself. Let's be honest, he's earned it.
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He does want children, but he is the type to plan for it. And I mean *plan*.
Out of everyone, he understands the best what it means for both your body and mental health the changes pregnancy would bring (including the chance of postpartum depression and other complications) so there would be a looooong discussion before anything happened.
When putting together the nursery it's like he's preparing for the apocalypse and not a baby "We might need this" (you won't be needing it), "This was made with [chemical], it could be toxic for you or the baby." "Zayne, it's just a plastic spoon."
Absolutely not as cool as he leads you to believe. You have this man stressed™ but he is so, soooo patient.
He'd be very serious about follow-up appointments and he'll make time for the both of you no matter what.
GIRL DAD ! GIRL DAD ! GIRL DAD !
100% victim of waking up covered in silly drawings and bows in his hair but he says before him than his poor white walls.
You have your hands full monitoring these two that love to sneak around and stuff their cheeks full like hamsters with sweets.
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Now this man wants a whole LITTER if you'll let him.
Hear me out: TRIPLETS. Oooor, twins with a younger sibling right after. Maybe one more if you are really brave.
This was not planned at all, but when you tell him he's so happy he'd be in actual tears while hugging you.
Luke and Kieran are over the moon about it too. They'd be so cute with the children because they get to be big bros now and they take their role very seriously.
Sylus would pull out his phone or coat and it would be covered in cute stickers. He takes no action in getting rid of it though because he loves it.
Those children are S P O I L E D. You have to take the role of saying no otherwise he'd take over the world just because his baby asked to be queen of the world on a random Thursday.
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I think he's on the same boat as Xavier but for different reasons.
I have some...perhaps...controversial takes on this little guy in general so I'll leave it open for your interpretation hehe
love him though<3
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I know I know everyone says he'd be the best girl dad but PLEASE pleaaaase give this man a little boy.
If you think women's baby fever are bad just wait until you see Caleb's
He would draw on your belly bump where he thinks the baby is and talk to him even while you're asleep
This guy is taking lessons about pregnancy, how to support you during birth and he is 100% in one of those moms group chat.
"Caleb we do not need another onesie—" "But look! Look how cute it is! Oh, and the little hat? C'mon angel, please?" (Ban him from shopping by himself because he comes back with WAY too many things you do not need)
He loves and I mean LOVES matching clothes. From silly costumes, to pajamas and outside outfits.
So. Many. Pictures. He takes pictures all the time to keep them as memories because if something were to happen where you or he lost their memories again then they'd forever be preserved :(
[ I have so much more to say about this but maybe I'll just make a separate post for each of them ]
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risestarkiss ¡ 1 year ago
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Orange, Baby!
Rise Ramblings #316
When I think about Mikey, this scene always comes to mind.
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As soon as they step foot in the library to save Mayhem, Angelo instantly disqualifies himself…hilariously.
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On first watch, I found it interesting that he made this decision with no hesitation, especially given the stakes.
At the time I just resigned to him being a silly silly boy, but now I know better.
Yet, before we get ahead of ourselves, let’s explore who Mikey is.
Michelangelo Hamato is the youngest turtle in the family, and it shows.
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Consequently, he seems to possess a certain “youngest brother privilege" that his other brothers just can’t help but reinforce. This is the role that Mikey was born into. Therefore, he doesn’t have to push himself to be the smartest, or cleverest, or strongest turtle.
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Instead, he decides to be the artist of the family. He’s a creative! He expresses himself everywhere, from stickers on his own shell, to tagging the lair, as well as on paper. The world is his canvas!
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Michelangelo also expresses himself in virtually everything he does, so it’s easy to understand why he’s the most open, honest, caring, and emotionally expressive turtle of the bunch. To some it could be seen as a weakness, yet Mikey uses his emotional intelligence as a pillar of strength, of which he utilizes to uphold his brothers when they need support the most.
In the show, Michelangelo often takes on certain personas; Doctor Feelings and Doctor Delicate Touch. (For some reason, they are all doctors, but that’s beside the point.)
At first glance, the personas could be seen as silly bouts of make-believe. But I think that placing these roles upon himself for his brothers' sake is Michelangelo’s way of helping them cope with the world by offering them what they each individually lack.
For instance, Raph, Leo, and Donnie have trouble voicing their discomforts when someone does something they don’t like.
In other words, they have trouble putting their foot down.
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But here is Mikey to the rescue!
Dr. Delicate Touch has no such hang-ups.
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Similarly, when Donatello runs into trouble, as he is unable to recognize his own emotions, it’s up to Doctor Feelings to help his desperate client in need.
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Through taking on these roles, Mikey is able to support his brothers and fill the emotional gaps in his teammates, which, inevitably makes them all stronger.
How is Mikey able to do this and how does he have the strength to take on these roles?
You could think that it’s just in his character, meaning, it’s just how he is. I don’t think so, though. He’s a free thinker, and a creative, but there’s something about these roles that is specifically catered to the needs of his family.
Then I realized, the only reason that Mikey is able to help his brothers in this way is because they first helped him.
Let me explain.
All four of the boys grew up in the same household. Although Splinter tried his very best (there is no Splinter hate here), a single depressed parent doth not a stable child make. Raphael struggled with the burden of his responsibilities as an ad hoc leader (see Being Big Red), Leo struggled with expressing his natural talents as a middle child (see Being Baby Blue), all while Donnie struggled with carving out his place on the team and his feelings of uselessness (see Being Purple Part One and Part Two).
Well, what does Mikey struggle with?
In my humble opinion, nothing.
The struggles of his brothers all related to each turtle coming to terms with themselves and coming to terms with their place on the team.
Yet, due to the love and support of his brothers and father, Michelangelo never had to ask himself if he belonged, struggle with his role on the team, or make huge life-changing decisions that could affect everyone.
Michelangelo is free to just be Michelangelo.
And as a free spirit who is completely in tune with his own emotions, he is able to do things like this:
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and this,
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and this.
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Let’s get back to the scene in the library.
Angelo sees the high stakes of his friend’s pet disappearing forever if they fail but makes the decision to disqualify himself anyway. Why? Because he knows that no matter what he does, it will all be ok.
He has complete faith in his brothers and their ability to solve the problem at hand, so he might as well have some fun.
This not the first time he’s come to this conclusion.
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Through out this entire scene, Michelangelo plays in the background.
It’s scenes like this that makes me believe that Mikey’s faith in his family knows no bounds.
Altogether, his brothers and his father were everything he needed to become who he is. Reciprocally, he is free to be everything that they need him to be and more. Over…
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and over,
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and over again
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he trusts them completely.
And through this unwavering trust in his family, he is able to trust himself and his instincts. He knows that with everything they’ve poured into him, he can save them from, well, everything. Over…
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and over…
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and over again.
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Hence, due to all of this evidence, I believe that through the collective love of his family, Michelangelo became the best version of the Hamato spirit, and thus, the best Mystic Warrior of all time.
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All because, he’s Orange, baby!
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Previous | Being Big Red • Being Baby Blue • Being Purple ○ Part One • Being Purple ○ Part Two
Finale | Being Hamato Yoshi
3K notes ¡ View notes
moonselune ¡ 4 months ago
Note
companions and drunk reader crying and cuddling with scratch + owlbear :33
I did this set at the reunion party because for some reason I thought that was part of the prompt but hey ho, some fluff to warm our souls and brighten us up during this darkside of the year <3
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Karlach:
The reunion party was in full swing, the lively hum of conversation and laughter filling the air. Music played from a makeshift ensemble, and the scent of roasted meat and ale mingled with the crisp night breeze. You and Karlach had been inseparable for most of the evening, both of you reveling in the joy of being free from the hellish grasp of Avernus - even if it was a brief respite. Friends surrounded you, their faces lit with genuine smiles—a rare luxury in the trials you’d all endured together.
But as the night wore on and the drinks flowed freely, Karlach found herself chatting animatedly with Wyll and Gale about some shared escapades. It wasn’t until a lull in the conversation that she noticed your absence.
Her brow furrowed as she scanned the crowd. Where had you gone? You’d been right beside her just moments ago. Her heart sank slightly as her mind played through the possibilities, but then she noticed a faint commotion near the far side of the camp, where the light of the bonfire barely reached.
Curiosity and concern prompted her to investigate.
As she approached, Karlach was met with a sight that was both hilarious and heartwarming. There you were, sprawled on the ground, your cheeks flushed from too much drink, nestled comfortably between Scratch, who was contentedly licking your face, and the owlbear cub—no longer a cub but still unmistakably affectionate. The owlbear had draped itself partially over your lap, its massive body radiating warmth, while you murmured incoherent endearments and occasionally giggled.
“You are such a good boy, Scratch,” you slurred, scratching behind the dog’s ears with one hand while your other patted the owlbear’s soft feathers. “And you—big ol’ fluff monster—you’re my second-best friend in the whole wide world. Don’t tell Scratch, though.”
The owlbear let out a low, rumbling coo, and Scratch wagged his tail enthusiastically.
Karlach leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed, and just watched you for a moment, her expression softening. The firelight caught in her amber eyes, reflecting the warmth she felt in her chest. After everything you’d been through—fighting, surviving, struggling—it was moments like these that made it all worthwhile. Seeing you so carefree, surrounded by creatures who adored you, filled her with a quiet contentment.
“Well, well,” she drawled, stepping closer, her voice laced with affection. “I leave you alone for five minutes, and you’ve already gone and replaced me with fur and feathers.”
You looked up at her, blinking owlishly, and broke into a wide, dopey grin. “Karlach! Join us! There’s so much love here, it’s like… like a cuddle explosion!”
She chuckled, her heart melting a little more. “A cuddle explosion, huh? Sounds dangerous.”
“It’s the best kind of dangerous,” you declared, patting the ground beside you.
Karlach didn’t need much convincing. With a theatrical sigh, she dropped to the ground beside you, her warm body pressing against yours. Scratch immediately climbed into her lap, while the owlbear shuffled closer to include her in its feathery embrace.
“You know,” she said, her voice low and tender, “I think this might be the happiest I’ve ever seen you.”
“‘Cause I’m with you,” you mumbled, resting your head on her shoulder. “And Scratch. And Big Fluffy. It’s perfect.”
Karlach wrapped an arm around you, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your back.
“You’re perfect, babe” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.
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Minthara:
The reunion party was a raucous affair, the camp alive with laughter, clinking mugs, and the occasional outburst of song. Minthara had joined reluctantly at your insistence, her usual composed demeanor barely hiding the faint amusement she felt as she observed the chaos.
The Drow paladin rarely indulged in such frivolity, the two of you had an Underdark to conquor afterall, but tonight she allowed herself to linger, even engaging in a deep conversation with Astarion, who had recently returned to the Underdark to settle down.
As the two shared dry wit and sharp banter, Minthara’s keen eyes darted across the camp, instinctively searching for you. When she realized you were nowhere in sight, she narrowed her eyes.
"Where has that fool wandered off to now?" she muttered under her breath, much to Astarion’s amusement.
“Ah, love,” Astarion quipped, a sly smirk on his lips. “It makes us chase after them even when we’d rather not.”
Minthara rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. She excused herself, muttering something about responsibility, and began to search for you. It didn’t take long—muffled giggles and low, rumbling noises led her toward the outskirts of the gathering. There, illuminated by the faint glow of the moonlight, she found you sprawled on the ground.
You were nestled between Scratch and the owlbear cub—though it had long since outgrown the 'cub' moniker—and were clearly the drunkest she had ever seen you. Your face was flushed, your hair mussed, and your arms were wrapped tightly around the two creatures as if they were your most precious treasures.
“Listen,” you whispered conspiratorially to the owlbear, though your volume defeated the purpose. “We’re gonna take over the Underdark. Me, you, Scratch, and Minthara. She’s so scary and smart. We’ll rule everything. But don’t tell her—it’s a secret plan.”
Minthara crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow as she approached.
"A secret plan, is it?" she asked, her voice dripping with mock disdain. “Taking over the Underdark with a dog and an owlbear? Truly, you’re a visionary.”
You looked up at her with wide, bleary eyes, your face breaking into a sloppy grin.
“Minthara! You found me!” you exclaimed, holding out a hand. “Join us! It’s a cuddle coup.”
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, though there was a flicker of amusement in her crimson eyes.
“You’re insufferable,” she muttered, turning to walk away.
But before she could take a step, you staggered to your feet with surprising agility for someone so far gone. With a triumphant shout, you lunged at her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her down to the ground.
Minthara yelped in surprise, glaring daggers at you as she landed unceremoniously on the grass.
“Have you lost your mind?” she snapped, but her anger quickly gave way to resignation as Scratch and the owlbear cub immediately joined in, nuzzling against her.
She froze, her normally stern expression softening as Scratch licked her cheek and the owlbear rumbled contentedly. She didn’t push them away, though she grumbled, “You’ve turned me into a damned pillow.”
You beamed at her, your face close to hers as you slurred, “You’re the best pillow ever. And the best everything else. I adore you, Minthara. You, Scratch, Owlie—you're all my favorite.”
Her cheeks darkened with a faint blush, though she refused to acknowledge it.
“You’re drunk,” she said curtly, her voice lacking its usual sharpness.
“And in love,” you replied with drunken sincerity, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips. It was sloppy and uncoordinated, but Minthara didn’t pull away. She sighed, her hand coming to rest on your cheek for just a moment before she let it fall.
“I'm going to kill you,” she muttered, though her tone was more affectionate than irritated.
You grinned, nuzzling against her like a contented cat. “I can't wait.”
Minthara rolled her eyes, though a small, almost imperceptible smile played at the corners of her mouth. As Scratch and the owlbear settled around you both, she resigned herself to her fate, lying back against the grass and letting the warmth of the moment wash over her.
Perhaps you were impossible. But you were hers.
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Lae'zel:
The reunion party was in full swing, the air buzzing with laughter, music, and the clinking of mugs. You’d coaxed Lae’zel into attending, promising her that Xan, your precious hatchling, would be fine under the watchful eyes of Voss and the rebels - who were surprisingly more than happy to look after him. Though she had reluctantly agreed, you noticed her gaze drifting toward the camp’s perimeter now and then, her brows furrowed with that familiar Githyanki intensity.
“Relax, Lae’zel,” you teased, nudging her gently. “Xan is fine. Tonight is about us.”
Lae’zel gave you a skeptical glance but said nothing, her hand brushing against yours briefly—a rare public display of affection from her that made your heart swell. For a while, the two of you enjoyed the festivities, sharing drinks and banter with your companions. But as the evening wore on and the wine flowed more freely, you became… well, significantly more inebriated.
At some point, Lae’zel turned to speak with Wyll, who was recounting one of his latest exploits. When she turned back, you were gone.
Her jaw clenched as she scanned the crowd, her warrior instincts kicking in despite the harmless nature of the gathering. She stomped through the camp, muttering curses under her breath as she searched for you.
“You couldn’t stay in one place, could you?” she growled.
It wasn’t long before she heard familiar, albeit slurred, murmuring. Following the sound, she found you sprawled on the ground near the campfire, flanked by Scratch and the now nearly full-grown owlbear cub. Tears streamed down your face as you hugged the animals close, stroking their fur and feathers.
“I love her so much,” you sobbed into Scratch’s neck. “And Xan. Xan is perfect. Perfect little hatchling.”
Lae’zel froze, her expression caught between exasperation and disbelief. She crossed her arms and glared down at you. “What are you doing, fool?”
You looked up at her, your face lighting up with drunken joy.
“Lae’zel!” you cried, holding out your arms. “You’re here! You’re so amazing, and strong, and—hic—beautiful. I love you.”
Lae’zel pinched the bridge of her nose, her shoulders heaving with a deep sigh.
“You are worse than Xan when he is hungry,” she muttered. Turning her attention to the animals, she pointed toward the river. “Drag this mess into the water. Perhaps it will sober them up.”
Scratch tilted his head, his tail wagging, while the owlbear let out a soft, rumbling croon. They looked at her, clearly uninterested in complying.
You giggled, stroking the owlbear’s feathers. “They like you, Lae’zel. They know you’re the best. Everyone knows you’re the best.”
Lae’zel’s irritation flickered, her lips pressing into a tight line as she fought to suppress the small smile threatening to emerge.
“You’re insufferable,” she declared, but there was no venom in her tone.
At her words, you burst into fresh tears. “Xan is so lucky to have you as a mom. I’m so lucky! How did I get so lucky?”
Lae’zel knelt beside you, her movements stiff but deliberate as she pulled you upright and into her arms.
“You’re drunk and ridiculous,” she said, her voice low but steady.
You wrapped your arms around her, clinging tightly. “But I love you,” you mumbled into her shoulder.
Lae’zel let out a small, exasperated sigh, but she didn’t push you away. Instead, she adjusted her grip, holding you firmly against her.
Her fingers brushed against your hair as she murmured, “You are fortunate I have patience tonight.”
You snuggled into her embrace, your tears finally subsiding as warmth and exhaustion took over. Though her expression remained stoic, a faint, hidden smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She did love you, she loved Xan, and the feathered and furred beasts weren't too bad either.
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Shadowheart:
The reunion party was a vibrant celebration, a gathering of friends, companions, and allies, each reveling in the hard-won peace after so many battles. You and Shadowheart stood together, hand in hand, sharing a quiet joy amid the merriment. The news that the owlbear cub—now a formidable but still affectionate creature—would be coming back to your farm had filled you both with delight. The prospect of a peaceful life on your little slice of the countryside, surrounded by Scratch, the owlbear, your other small army of animals and each other, was everything you’d dreamed of.
You’d both mingled, laughed, and shared drinks, but at some point, Shadowheart turned to grab another bottle of wine, only to find you had disappeared. Her brow furrowed, though she didn’t panic. You weren’t exactly subtle when you were drunk, and it wasn’t hard to follow the sound of your voice, rising in animated, tearful elation.
When she finally found you, Shadowheart couldn’t help but pause, her arms crossing as she observed the scene before her. You were seated on the grass near the campfire, Scratch pressed against your side, his tail wagging lazily, while the owlbear nestled on the other side, its feathers ruffled as you gently stroked its beak.
“And you’re gonna love the farm,” you slurred, gesturing wildly with the bottle in your hand. “There’s fields to run in, and soft places to sleep, and you two—” you sniffed, your voice breaking slightly as you turned to the animals— “are gonna be so happy. So loved.”
The owlbear let out a deep, contented rumble, and Scratch licked your cheek, which only made your drunken tears flow harder. Shadowheart raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a small smile.
“You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?” she said, stepping into the firelight.
Your head snapped up, your face lighting up as if you’d seen the sun itself.
“Shadowheart!” you cried, scrambling to your feet only to stumble and flop back onto the grass. “You’re here! Come here, come here—cuddle pile!”
Shadowheart sighed but couldn’t suppress her amused grin as you reached out for her.
“You’re hopeless,” she muttered, though there was no real bite to her words. She approached and allowed herself to be pulled down into the pile of fur and feathers, the owlbear shifting to make room for her as Scratch barked happily.
“This is the best night ever,” you declared, wrapping your arms around her and pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’m so happy, Shadowheart. We’re gonna have the best life. You, me, Scratch, and this big feathery baby.”
She shook her head, laughing softly as she snatched the bottle from your hand.
“You’ve had enough,” she said, taking a swig herself. The wine burned pleasantly as it went down, and she let out a contented sigh. “Though I suppose I can’t argue with your enthusiasm.”
As the night wore on, Shadowheart found herself caught up in your infectious joy. She joined in on your rambling talks of the future—of gardens you’d plant, adventures you’d take, and all the little moments of happiness waiting for you both.
“You know,” she said, her voice soft as she leaned her head against your shoulder, “I think you’re right. This is going to be a good life.”
Your only response was a drunken hum of agreement, your arms tightening around her as the warmth of the fire, the animals, and each other enveloped you both. In that moment, everything felt perfect. Everything was perfect. Everything was going to be perfect.
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Jaheira:
The reunion party was in full swing, laughter and music filling the air as friends and allies celebrated the peace you had all fought so hard to achieve. You and Jaheira stood together for much of the evening, your hand occasionally brushing against hers in a quiet intimacy. She was radiant in her element, speaking with old friends, trading stories of past battles, and offering wisdom to those who sought it.
At some point, she became engrossed in a conversation with Halsin, the two of them naturally drawn together by their shared love for nature and nurturing. Their talk turned to the orphans Halsin had come to care for, and Jaheira, with her ever-compassionate heart, shared tales of her own tendency to adopt and guide wayward children.
“I suppose I can’t help myself,” she admitted with a soft chuckle. “Perhaps it’s the druid in me, or perhaps just the mother.”
Halsin nodded with a knowing smile. “It’s a noble trait, Jaheira. The world is better for it.”
But as Jaheira began to share another story, she realized something: you were no longer at her side. She scanned the crowd, her brow furrowing in mild irritation.
“Speaking of wayward children,” she muttered under her breath, excusing herself from Halsin with a polite nod. “Now where have you wandered off to?”
It wasn’t hard to track you down; she simply followed the faint sound of sniffling and tearful rambling. What she found made her stop in her tracks, crossing her arms with an exasperated sigh.
There you were, sprawled on the grass near the fire, clutching Scratch and the owlbear cub—though it was hardly a cub anymore. The owlbear sat with a dignified sort of calm, its feathers ruffled from your clumsy affection, while Scratch lay happily across your lap, his tail wagging lazily.
“And you guys,” you sniffled, gesturing to the animals with the bottle still clutched in one hand, “you’re the best. I love you so much. You’re good boys. The best boys.”
Jaheira approached, shaking her head as she took in the sight of you, your face red from tears and wine.
“What on earth are you doing?” she asked, though her voice held a note of amusement. You looked up, your tear-streaked face lighting up at the sight of her.
“Jaheira!” you cried, holding your arms out dramatically. “You’re here! Come cuddle with us!”
“Cuddle?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Darling, you’re drunk.”
“I’m emotional,” you corrected, your voice wobbling as fresh tears welled in your eyes. “And you have to cuddle with us, or—or I’ll never forgive you! Ever!”
Jaheira sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead as though trying to muster the patience of a saint.
“You are worse than Halsin's orphans,” she teased, but there was no mistaking the warmth in her tone. “And that’s saying something.”
Your lip wobbled, and you clutched Scratch tighter.
“Please,” you whimpered, the plea so earnest and pitiful that Jaheira couldn’t help but laugh.
“All right, all right,” she said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “If it means that much to you.”
She knelt beside you, allowing you to pull her into the chaotic cuddle pile. The owlbear gave a soft hoot, adjusting its position to include her, while Scratch wagged his tail even harder at her presence.
“See?” you murmured, wrapping your arms around her as you leaned heavily against her shoulder. “This is nice. Isn’t it nice?”
Jaheira let out a long-suffering sigh, though a smile tugged at her lips as she rested her head against yours.
“You’re ridiculously impossible,” she said softly. “But yes, this is… nice.”
For a while, the two of you sat there, surrounded by warmth and fur and feathers. Jaheira found herself relaxing despite the absurdity of the situation, her arm slipping around your waist as she pressed a soft kiss to your temple.
“You’re lucky I love you,” she murmured. You hummed happily, nuzzling into her shoulder.
“I know,” you slurred, the wine making your voice thick. “And I love you, too. So, so much.”
Jaheira chuckled, shaking her head as she tightened her hold on you.
“You’ll be the death of me,” she said fondly. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
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Gale:
The reunion party buzzed with energy, laughter and conversation flowing freely among friends old and new - thanks to Minsc's addition. You and Gale were nestled in a quieter corner of the celebration, a glass of wine in your hand and Gale gesturing animatedly with his own as he launched into an impassioned tale about his latest trials as a professor at Blackstaff Academy.
“…and would you believe it? One of the students thought it prudent to attempt wild magic on their first evocation test! I spent half the afternoon dispelling chaos and putting out fires—literal fires—and the other half explaining why summoning imps in a classroom was hardly conducive to learning.”
You nodded along, smiling as you watched the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of his work. His passion was endearing, and yet… a mischievous thought crept into your mind as you caught sight of Scratch wagging his tail nearby, the owlbear cub—no longer quite a cub—lounging lazily beside him.
When Gale paused to take a sip of his wine, you saw your chance.
“Fascinating,” you said quickly, standing and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Be right back, love.”
He blinked, caught off guard but easily reassured by the peck. “Oh, certainly. Don’t wander too far.”
You didn’t answer, instead making a beeline for the animals. A few moments later, you were leading Scratch and the owlbear cub away from the main gathering, giggling to yourself as you went. An hour later, Gale finally noticed your absence and set off to find you.
He tracked you down by the sound of your voice, soft and teasing as you lounged in a quiet grove just beyond the party. There you were, sprawled on the grass with Scratch snuggled into one side and the owlbear cub resting its heavy head on your lap. Your cheeks were flushed with drink, your eyes glassy with a mix of affection and mischief.
“And Gale,” you slurred, stroking the owlbear’s feathers as if imparting some great wisdom, “wanted to be a god. A god! Can you believe it? Silly Gale. He doesn’t need to be a god. He’s already… already my god. My love, my life…” Your voice dropped conspiratorially, and you hiccupped. “But he would’ve been a prick as a god. Don’t you think?”
“Do you think so?” Gale’s amused voice cut in, and you turned your head to see him standing there, arms crossed but a fond smile tugging at his lips. You gasped dramatically.
“Gale!” You grinned at him, patting the grass beside you. “Come here! Join us! Cuddle!”
“I think not,” he said, though the smile on his face betrayed him. “Someone has to ensure you don’t declare my divine candidacy to the owlbear.”
Your grin wavered, and you pouted, your bottom lip trembling as your eyes filled with exaggerated tears.
“You won’t cuddle with me?” you sniffled, your voice wobbling. “You don’t love me anymore?”
Gale’s resolve crumbled instantly. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know I can’t say no to that face.”
With a dramatic flourish, you opened your arms wide. “Then get over here, Professor Dekarios!”
He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the laughter bubbling in his chest as he lowered himself to the grass beside you. Scratch immediately wriggled over to press against his side, while the owlbear gave a satisfied huff and shifted to accommodate him. You threw your arms around him, nuzzling into his chest as if he were the most comfortable pillow in the world.
“See?” you murmured, your voice soft and content. “This is perfect. My god. My Gale.”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I suppose there are worse fates than being your god. Though next time, perhaps less wine and more water.”
You hummed in agreement, already half-asleep against him. Gale shook his head, his heart full as he tightened his arms around you and let the peaceful moment wash over him.
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Astarion:
The reunion party was in full swing, with the warm glow of laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. You and Astarion had arrived arm-in-arm, though the two of you quickly found yourselves mingling with different groups. Astarion had gravitated toward Minthara, the two of them caught in an animated conversation about how you and he had adjusted to life in the Underdark—a topic Astarion spoke of with a surprising fondness.
You, however, had been immediately distracted by Scratch, whose wagging tail and joyful demeanor were too much to resist. You’d spent some time tossing a stick for him before finding the owlbear cub—now fully grown—lounging nearby. One thing led to another, and soon enough, you’d wandered off, leaving Astarion none the wiser.
When he finally noticed your absence, it was only because Minthara raised an eyebrow mid-conversation. “It seems your partner has… disappeared.”
Astarion sighed, his eyes scanning the crowd. “They do tend to wander, don’t they? One moment they’re here, the next, they’ve likely befriended every stray within a ten-mile radius.”
It didn’t take him long to find you. The sound of your drunken sniffles and delighted murmurs led him to a quiet corner of the grove, where you were sprawled on the grass, your arms wrapped around Scratch and the owlbear cub. Your cheeks were flushed, your eyes glassy, and you were mid-sentence in what appeared to be an earnest declaration.
“You’re just… so cute,” you hiccupped, scratching the owlbear behind its feathered ears. “Both of you. The cutest. I don’t deserve you. Nobody does.”
Astarion stepped closer, his lips curling into a smirk as he crossed his arms.
“Well, well, what have we here?” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “The drunkest I’ve ever seen you, cuddling animals and crying over their cuteness. Truly, a sight to behold.”
You looked up at him, your expression a mix of delight and indignation.
“It’s not my fault!” you exclaimed, sitting up—though the effort made you wobble. “Scratch… Scratch has been fetching me wine!”
Astarion raised a skeptical brow, his smirk widening. “Scratch has been fetching you wine? Darling, I taught you to lie better than that.”
You gasped, clutching Scratch protectively. “Are you calling me a liar? Scratch would never let me lie. He’s too good, too pure!”
The dog wagged his tail innocently, clearly pleased with the attention. He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips as he moved to sit beside you.
“Yes, yes, Scratch is the pinnacle of virtue. Now, move over before you collapse completely.” He pulled you against his side, his arm wrapping around your waist. You immediately snuggled into him, still hiccuping slightly as you continued to pet the animals.
Just as Astarion was starting to feel truly settled, Scratch suddenly trotted off.
“And where are you going, you furry little enabler?” he called after the dog. Moments later, Scratch returned, tail wagging proudly as he carried a bottle of blood in his jaws. Astarion’s mouth fell open slightly in surprise, and then he laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Well, I’ll be damned. He really is a very good boy.”
He took the bottle from Scratch, patting the dog’s head affectionately.
“My apologies, my love. It seems you weren’t lying. Who would have thought Shadowheart’s greatest contribution to our journey all those months ago was teaching this beast to fetch drinks?”
You giggled, leaning up to press a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “Told you so. Scratch is a genius. The cutest genius in the whole wide world.”
"And what about me, am I not cute?" Astarion asked in mock offence as he brushed a rogue strand of hair out of your face.
"Not as cute as Scratch and Owlbear but you try -hey give me back my wine!" You whined as Astarion took your bottle from you, brows raised, suggesting you try again. You huffed and rested your head on his shoulder looking up at him with big wet doe eyes. "You are not as cute, because you are twice as beautiful."
"I don't know if that makes sense, but I'll take it." He said, giving you back your wine with a small smile. He would have taken it off you, you really were the drunkest he had ever seen but your so-called 'wine' was actually water, Scratch really was a genius.
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Wyll:
The reunion party was in full swing, a mix of old friends, laughter, and the clinking of glasses raised high in celebration. The air buzzed with the joy of shared victories and the promise of futures finally free of hardship. You and Wyll had spent much of the evening together, arm in arm, swapping stories and indulging in the abundant wine. It was a rare, beautiful moment to simply be—no battles to fight, no worlds to save.
For Wyll, the sight of you laughing and glowing with life was a reward all its own. But as the hours ticked by and the wine loosened tongues and inhibitions alike, you had somehow slipped away.
It wasn’t unusual. You had a penchant for wandering when the drink took hold of you, curiosity leading you to wherever your heart fancied. Wyll, ever patient and knowing, only chuckled to himself when he realized you were gone. After excusing himself from a lively conversation with Halsin and Minsc, who were subtley trying to out-brag the other (nothing had changed there) he set out to find you, his long strides carrying him through the grove as he kept an ear out for your familiar voice.
It didn’t take long. He followed the soft sound of sniffling to a secluded patch of grass where the moonlight spilled down like a spotlight. There, nestled between Scratch and the owlbear—no longer a cub but still affectionately devoted—you sat, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you buried your face in the owlbear’s feathers.
“They’re just… so cute,” you murmured, your voice thick with drunken emotion. Scratch’s tail thumped happily against the ground, clearly basking in your attention, while the owlbear tilted its head in quiet curiosity.
Wyll stopped, the sight making him blink in surprise. His hand rose to cover the grin tugging at his lips.
“Oh, my love,” he said softly, his voice tinged with both amusement and affection. “What have you gotten yourself into now?”
Your head shot up at the sound of his voice, and the moment your eyes met his, a fresh wave of tears spilled over.
“Wyll!” you exclaimed, your voice breaking as though his very presence was a miracle. “You’re here! And you’re so… so cute!”
Wyll blinked, momentarily startled, before laughter rumbled low in his chest.
“I’m cute, am I?” he asked, kneeling beside you. His grin widened as he took in the wine bottle lying haphazardly nearby and the glassy, adoring look in your eyes.
“Yes!” you wailed, throwing your arms out dramatically. “Your smile is cute, and your horns are cute, and your eyes are cute, and your hair is cute!” You punctuated each word with a hiccupping sob, your hand waving wildly as if to emphasize your point.
Wyll’s brows lifted in amusement, though his gaze softened with love.
“I see the wine has been particularly generous with you tonight,” he teased, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry for being so… unbearably adorable. Shall I tone it down?”
“No!” you exclaimed, clutching his hand as though the idea was unthinkable. “Don’t stop being cute! It’s the best thing about you—no, wait.” You gasped as though struck by a revelation. “Everything about you is the best thing!”
Wyll let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “You are truly something else,” he said, his voice warm as he reached out to steady you. “Even when drunk, you’re determined to flatter me into blushing.”
Your lip wobbled, and you suddenly looked utterly distraught.
“Even your boots are cute,” you whispered, as though it was the most profound truth you had ever spoken.
That was enough to undo Wyll completely. He laughed, full and unguarded, before leaning forward to press a kiss to your temple.
“Alright, alright,” he said gently. “I’ll take responsibility for being impossibly charming.”
You sniffled, your tears slowing as the exhaustion of the evening began to creep up on you. With a soft hiccup, you slumped forward, burying your face in his chest. Wyll’s arms instinctively wrapped around you, holding you close as he stroked your back.
“You’re a handful, you know that?” he murmured, though his tone held no irritation—only affection. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The owlbear gave a low croon and leaned in, its head nuzzling against Wyll’s shoulder as though to share in the moment. Scratch let out a soft bark of agreement, his tail thumping against the ground. Wyll chuckled, his voice rumbling in his chest.
“You’ve managed to rally quite the crowd,” he said softly, glancing down at your peaceful face. But when you didn’t respond, he realized you had fallen asleep, your breath even and steady against his chest.
“Oh, my heart,” he said, shaking his head with a fond smile. “What am I to do with you?”
Carefully, he adjusted his hold and scooped you into his arms. The owlbear and Scratch followed as he carried you back toward the firelight of the party. Wyll’s steps were steady, his gaze warm as he looked down at you. Even in your drunken, tearful mess, you were his mess.
And he wouldn’t trade you for the world.
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Halsin:
The reunion party was nothing short of spectacular. Lanterns hung from the ancient trees, casting soft, golden light over the gathering. Music and laughter mingled with the sounds of the old faithful camp at night, a serene backdrop to the revelry. You had started the evening with Halsin, both of you basking in the joy of seeing friends and allies together again. It was a rare chance to relax, to celebrate the life you had built after the chaos.
Halsin was soon drawn into a conversation about the orphans you and he had taken in. A circle of the more compassionate companions had gathered around him, captivated as he spoke about the children’s growth, their joy, and the home you were creating. His deep voice carried over the crowd, filled with pride and hope. You stood beside him for a time, sipping wine and listening, but your attention was eventually caught by a familiar sight—Scratch wagging his tail and the owlbear, now fully grown, ambling nearby.
"Look at them," you murmured, already swaying slightly as the wine took hold. "Two perfect, fluffy creatures, and they need my attention."
With a mischievous smile, you slipped away, weaving your way through the crowd, wineglass in hand. By the time Halsin realized you were gone, you had already disappeared into a quieter part of the grove. He smiled to himself, fondly amused, and excused himself from the conversation.
“She’s probably plotting something,” he said with a chuckle, following the faint sound of your voice.
It didn’t take long to find you. Beneath a sprawling oak, you were sprawled on the grass, cuddling Scratch and the owlbear. You had an almost-empty bottle of wine in one hand, your other arm draped dramatically over the owlbear’s shoulders. Your cheeks were flushed, your hair a bit disheveled, and your voice carried through the night as you spoke with exaggerated fervor.
"Listen here, Scratch," you said, poking his nose gently with your finger. "And you, too," you added, pointing to the owlbear, who blinked at you with wide, curious eyes. "You’re coming home with me. No arguments. It’s decided. We’re a family now."
Scratch barked happily, his tail thumping against the ground. The owlbear hooted softly, tilting its head as if contemplating your declaration.
You nodded solemnly, taking another swig of wine.
"Halsin might say no, but don’t you worry." You leaned in close, your voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper that was anything but quiet. "I have my ways of convincing him. Very persuasive ways." You wiggled your eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, giggling at your own implication.
Then, as if struck by the sheer emotional gravity of the moment, your voice wavered, and tears welled up in your eyes.
"But if that doesn’t work," you said, your words thick with feeling, "I’ll just cry! Like this!" You dramatically buried your face into Scratch’s fur, letting out a loud, theatrical sob.
From the shadows, Halsin watched, arms crossed, a bemused smile playing on his lips. Finally, he stepped forward, his voice warm and steady. “Tears, my heart, will not be necessary.”
You froze, your head snapping up to look at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.
"Halsin!" you exclaimed, scrambling to sit up and almost tipping over in the process. "When did you get here?"
"Not long ago," he replied, crouching down beside you. "Long enough to hear your… strategy."
You waved the bottle in his direction, sloshing a bit of wine onto the grass.
"It’s a good strategy," you insisted, pointing at him with exaggerated authority. "Very effective."
Halsin chuckled, his large hand brushing a strand of hair from your face.
"I’m sure it is," he said indulgently. "But I assure you, no convincing is necessary."
“What about the other thing?” you asked, your voice dropping into a clumsy attempt at sultriness that only made Halsin laugh more.
“When you’re sober,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
You turned back to Scratch and the owlbear, lowering your voice to a loud whisper. “See? I told you it would work. He may be Daddy Halsin, but we all know who the real daddy is.”
Halsin’s brows shot up, a deep laugh rumbling from his chest. “Do we now?” he asked, scooping you into his arms with practiced ease.
You clung to him, your head resting against his broad chest as you continued to mumble incoherently about your master plan.
"Fluffy family forever," you declared, nuzzling into his tunic.
Scratch barked again, wagging his tail enthusiastically, while the owlbear lumbered after you both. Halsin shook his head fondly, his smile softening as he looked down at you.
“You are a marvel,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple.
As he carried you back toward the heart of the party, you sighed contentedly, your arms tightening around his neck.
“You’re the best, Halsin,” you murmured, your words slurring but full of affection. “The absolute best.”
“And you,” he replied, his voice low and full of warmth, “are an utter wonder.”
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I hope you guys enjoyed this, I worked quite hard on it and it was quite a good distraction. Love you all - Seluney xox
If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x
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ckret2 ¡ 7 months ago
Note
What's your stance on Ford as a person? Honestly, I believe that for thr majority of canon he is a bad person. But I believe he grew. Still not great though XD
(Love him anyways obvs)
I disagree entirely! I think he's equally as good a person as any of the other main cast.*
*Except Mabel, who, as we all know, is always right about everything.**
(**This is a lighthearted joke. For the love of god, I don't want Mabel discourse in my inbox.)
His biggest sins in the show:
After telling his brother that he was thinking about changing their shared life plans, and then discovering that his brother had gone to the high school that night for no good reason and gone to the science fair for no good reason and messed around near Ford's science project for no good reason and broke it and didn't tell Ford about it... Ford believed Stan did it intentionally and held a grudge for it. You know what, it WOULD be pretty damn hard to believe it was an accident.
Hilariously ill-equipped to cope with Fiddleford's mental health. A guy who responds to "I have anxiety" with "have you tried yoga, it helps me" isn't a bad person, he's clueless. "Character cheerfully enacts a bad idea while a loved one in the background goes NO PLEASE DON'T DO THAT" describes half the episodes of Gravity Falls.
Was successfully manipulated by a professional manipulator into believing his best friend wished him ill. Man, what a terrible person Ford is for being manipulated by a manipulator and saying cruel things to somebody he'd been genuinely convinced was trying to harm him.
??? Didn't say thanks to a guy he was still mad at after the guy fixed a problem he himself had caused. This is a solitary example of stubborn bad etiquette, jesus christ. There's half a dozen different reasons why it makes perfect sense Ford wasn't in the right mindset to feel grateful, this is not something worth indicting his entire character over.
He had high ambitions, which everyone seems to lambast him for, but high ambitions that wouldn't have required doing anybody harm! (Until the professional manipulator started manipulating him into harming the people around him, but we are going to demonstrate some reading comprehension and not blame Ford's underlying morality as a person for things he never would've done if not for Bill's bullying, con artistry, and outright lies.) Like, what is it that he wanted to do with his life? Use his talents to get rich and famous? Shit, that's exactly what Stan wanted to do with his life. It's what Dipper fantasizes about doing with his life. Even Mabel, who thinks about her long-term future the least, dreams big with her art & performances and is already making big money off cheap-ass commissions. What terrible people they all are, for—let me check my notes here—uhhh... unrealistically fantasizing about achieving success in life by doing the things they're good at.
When their dad accuses Stan of lying as a child, Ford puts his entire summer on the line to defend Stan even though he knows Stan is a habitual liar and has no reason to believe Stan is telling the truth this time.
When his new college roommate he barely even knows gets laughed at for proposing an outlandish scientific theory, his first emotion is outrage at this injustice and he drops everything to convince his already-despondent roommate that he was right and help him prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.
When he moves to a new town, he tries again and again to befriend his new neighbors, and fails not because he's rude or a jerk, but because he's awkward as hell, tells terrible jokes, and sucks at identifying phoenixes.
When Fiddleford gets hurt around him, he cares about it, feels guilty about putting him in that position, doesn't want it to happen again, and tries his best to help even though he's bad at helping.
When he gets kidnapped by a weird holiday folklore creature, he concludes without even thinking about it that he's now in charge of protecting and rescuing the kidnapped kids. Yeah, then he immediately starts hollering at the folklore creature for trying to impose his religious beliefs on Ford and the kids—but like, Ford was right tho, he just had bad timing.
When he discovers that the Northwest family committed atrocities against their poorer neighbors a century ago, his first instinct is to march up to their house, find the first Northwest he can locate, and give them a piece of his mind for it. Like, this won't even FIX anything. He's just THAT OUTRAGED over the injustice.
When he sees what he thinks is a fortune telling fraud conning the people, he attempts to debunk her because he's mad to see someone cheating other people with lies—and when he can't debunk her, he just leaves her alone rather than harass her about it. Typically, if assholes think somebody's doing something wrong but don't have any proof of it and fail to get proof when they look, they decide they're right anyway and keep giving that person shit. Ford doesn't give her shit. That's the opposite of an asshole move.
When he discovers his Portal To Knowledge (And Fame & Fortune) is actually a Portal To Doom (But Still Possibly Fame & Fortune, Maybe Even Godly Power), he isn't tempted for a second to keep working on it anyway. There is no moment where Bill manages to tempt him. No matter what Bill offers, no matter how long Bill offers, never, at ANY point, does Ford have a SECOND of "but what if I did make a deal with the devil?" the way so many heroes in similar situations often do.
You ever notice that? So often moral moments in the show are presented as choices the characters make. Will or won't Dipper give Bill a "puppet" in exchange for knowledge. Will or won't Stan fight a pterodactyl to protect Mabel's pig. Will or won't Mabel hand Bipper the journal. Ford is never given a "will or won't he" moment over Bill's threats, offers of friendship, or offers of infinite power—he steamrolls straight past them without a second of consideration—because, to him, the selfish, cowardly, easy choice ISN'T EVEN AN OPTION. He doesn't even SEE it as making a choice because the possibility of doing the wrong thing is invisible. A character who wavers first before turning Bill down would look more noble for "overcoming" temptation—it's harder to notice just how much stronger Ford's moral compass must be to not even feel temptation in the first place.
Greed and pride never tempt him to join Bill's side. Exhaustion, despair, and fear never tempt him to give up. He bears up under weeks, possibly months of extreme sleep deprivation, physical torture, psychological torture, emotional torture, threats of death, threats of brainwashing, threats to his family. He doesn't hold up so that he can pat himself on the back for being a hero—if that was all it was he would've gone "screw it, this isn't worth it and nobody would know I'm the one who gave up" a week in—he does it because he simply knows it must be done and because he's so isolated (half because of Bill's influence!) that he believes he's the one who must do it, all alone.
Thinking he has to do it by himself isn't egotism or pride; it's helplessness. He thinks no one else stands a chance. He thinks he's alone.
And, when he discovers his Portal To Knowledge is a Portal To Doom, he immediately feels guilty. No trying to deny the situation to protect his ego. No shuffling the blame off to someone else. No "maybe the apocalypse could have a silver lining!" No locking the door and trying to ignore the problem. He blames himself for being fooled—he IMMEDIATELY takes full responsibility for his actions—and he CONTINUES to take responsibility FOR THE NEXT THIRTY YEARS.
He takes more responsibility than is even warranted—he treats himself like he's an idiot for believing in an APPARENT GOD who's been practicing manipulating humans for thousands of years and who had never given Ford reason to believe the portal was anything but what Bill said it was. He beats himself up to no end every single time his past with Bill comes up. He even keeps beating himself up thirty years later when he's shoving warning notes to future readers in Bill's evil unkillable book!
When he falls into the multiverse, he dedicates his entire life NOT to finding a way to rescue himself, but to finding a way to permanently stop the CHAOS GOD who's still at the threshold of destroying Ford's world and countless others. He makes himself a hated criminal in the process, just to stop Bill. He's ready to spend the rest of his life trying to protect a world he doesn't think he'll ever see again. He does it because, as he sees it, somebody has to stand in between the children and the obnoxious folklore cryptid menacing them, and he's the only adult in this damn cave with the skills and knowledge for the job.
When he gets home, he doesn't tell his family about Bill and his quest because he's afraid that doing so will get them involved and endanger them too—and because he's too deeply ashamed of himself and his mistakes to stand the thought of his family knowing about the horrible things he's done (AGAIN, WHILE BEING MANIPULATED BY THE GOD OF MANIPULATION).
He loves his great-niece and great-nephew the second he lays eyes on them; he nevertheless tries to steer away from them to keep them safe from Bill; and yet he caves to the very first temptation to emotionally bond with his great-nephew he gets, because in spite of his noble "keep them safe" intentions, he wants so so badly to be close to his family.
As pissed as he still is at Stan and even though neither of them can look at each other without hissing like cats, he still makes an attempt to start bridging their divide by inviting him to play DD&MD.
When the apocalypse happens, he immediately puts his life on the line to try to kill Bill.
And when he's captured, isn't fazed for a second by Bill's offers or threats... until his family is threatened. The exact thing he'd been trying to avoid & prevent from the very start.
And when he's reunited with Fiddleford, his immediate reaction is to point out that Fiddleford's well within his rights to hate him—which isn't a new revelation, it's not like Ford had to do any soul-searching to reach this conclusion, he'd concluded that 30 years ago the instant he realized Bill had played him and that he'd been lied to about Fiddleford.
And then he tries to kill Bill again.
And then he's ready to sacrifice his own life to kill Bill—and the only reason he doesn't is because he has a metal plate preventing him from making the sacrifice... but, Stan doesn't have a plate. If Ford hadn't had the metal plate, he would have gladly done the exact same thing Stan did—and he would have thought it was right for him and only him to make that sacrifice, because it's VERY clear he feels (and has felt from the start) that this is all his fault and he's obligated to fix it.
Over and over and over, these are Ford's two defining character traits: getting so pissed off at injustice that his common sense shuts off and he goes into terminator mode until he's righted this wrong as best he can, even when he can't actually do anything about it; and feeling like he's Atlas, weighed down with the full responsibility of fixing everything he's done wrong and made to believe that, for everyone else's sake, he has to do it all alone. Even when doing so puts himself in harm's way, even when he has to put his entire life on hold for it, even if it might cost him his life. Scrape off his awkward social skills, his loneliness, his nerdiness, his endless curiosity, his zealous love of the strange, his starry ambitions, his yearning for recognition and success—scrape his personality down to the bone and that's what you're left with. A man who believes in defending the exploited so strongly that it makes him a little stupid.
I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that you probably don't think Stan's fundamentally a bad person, and that you probably think that isn't even worth questioning. Stan's made a whole career out of swindling people, conning them out of as much money as he possibly can, stealing, lying, committing a long list of goofily-named crimes, and attempting douchy pick-up artistry on women; and to cap it all off, he held the safety of the entire universe hostage to demand a goddamn "thank you." Don't send me any "But he had reasons—" "But it was only to—" I don't need it, I don't want the essay, I'm not arguing that Stan's a bad guy, it's fine.
But. You can look at Stan's moments of cruelty and unkindness, his uncharitable thoughts, his character flaws, and think, "that doesn't define him. He's more than his cruelest moments and worst mistakes. He's imperfect, but he cares so much and his heart's in the right place, and beneath all the flaws his core is good."
And if you can't do the same for Ford, it's not because he's a worse person. It's because we got two seasons with Stan and five and a half episodes with Ford—and while we saw Stan yearning to fish with the kids or encouraging Mabel to whoop Pacifica's butt at minigolf or crying over a black and white period drama or punching zombies to save his family, we only saw Ford at the worst moments in his life and under the stress of a prolonged apocalyptic crisis—and, it so happens, all the moments he was pissed at the guy we spent two seasons learning to love.
Ford's got moments of cruelty and unkindness, uncharitable thoughts, and character flaws. But, at his core, he's a good person, and he always has been, and he still is.
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azrielsshadows42 ¡ 5 months ago
Text
Azriel SFW alphabet
This has been sitting incomplete in my drafts since March so... idk.
Warnings: I don't think there is any other than some self-deprecating, correct me if I'm wrong, unedited
A = Affectionate (how affectionate is he)
Now let's get this straight, this male LOVES you with every fibre of his body and soul, if you need affection he is there in seconds, he is super observant, so you don't even have to ask, he has at least one small shadow that follows you around to make sure you are alright. Whether you just need to hold his hand or you need him to hold you through the night, he has no problems fulfilling your requirements.
When he needs affection however... is another story, he will almost never ask for it, he doesn't want to bother you, and no matter how many times you tell him it's not a bother he will always feel like he is being a burden to you. You will need to learn how to read him better than anyone because he will not make it easy for you.
B = Best friend (what would he be like as a best friend, how does the friendship start?)
He would be an amazing best friend, always knows when you are feeling down and how to cheer you up, it takes a while but once you are close enough the friendly teasing is hilarious. you would definitely have some inside jokes just between the two of you.
At first it would be him only interacting with you when necessary, he will be as polite as possible cause he doesn't want you to be scared of him but he also doesn't really want to spend a lot of time with you 1) Because he has trust issues and is wary of you, it is kind of his job and 2) Because he doesn't want to corrupt you.
C = Cuddles (does he like to cuddle; how does he cuddle?)
Azriel will completely deny it if anyone asks him but... he actually really likes cuddles, this man is so touch starved he NEEDS skin to skin contact. He is perfectly content to just lay with you in the evenings after dinner, admiring your beauty. And while he trains extremely diligently, he secretly loves when he has a good reason not to train so he can wake up next to and actually have a proper breakfast together instead of just leaving a note with promises to see you later.
Once again will adamantly deny it if asked but his favourite way to cuddle is spooning, he likes to be the big spoon, he loves having his arms wrapped around you along with his wings for extra warmth because he knows you love it, just for that extra reassurance that you are safe and haven't disappeared. He could be convinced to be little spoon for a night if you really wanted it, but it would take some pleading.
D = Domestic (Does he want to settle down, how good is he at cooking and cleaning?)
So, I feel like Azriel would absolutely love the idea of settling down, in concept but would be really scared to do so, not because he's unsure of his feelings for you, no not at all, he loves you wholeheartedly sometimes a bit too much he'd be scared because he thinks you might change your mind. That he isn't good enough or he'll taint your innocence what innocence? It will definitely be a few years, maybe even decades before he is certain you won't leave him for someone "better". And even then, he will need reassurance.
Now when it comes to cleaning, this man is over the top, everything is immaculate, there is not a speck of dust to be found.... ever.
But you see with cooking... I don't know, I feel like it could go both ways, he's either stupidly good at it like, bro??? Where did you learn this? Truly Gordon Ramsey level cuisine. Or... he doesn't know what he's doing, at all. He'll try, he will most definitely try to have you come back to a lovely home cooked meal whenever he has the chance to but... it doesn't always ever come out the way he intends it to. But it's the thought that counts and you really can see the effort he put into it.
E = Ending (if he had to break up with you, how would he do it)
There is only one way (other than unfaithfulness) that he will break up with you, and that is if he feels that you, being with him, is putting you in too much danger. This man has waited 500 years for his mate or anyone to love him as wholly as you do, and ending your relationship will absolutely break him. He'll do it very respectfully and considerately, he will seem composed, yet not cold-hearted, but once he's behind closed doors and he is 1000% sure NOBODY can hear him, there will be tears streaming down his face and the only thing keeping him from going back on it is the knowledge that you are safer this way. His shadows try desperately to console him but nothing they do works, only you could calm him once he's at this point.
F = FiancĂŠ (how does he feel about commitment? How quick would he want to get married?)
He has some commitment issues, the idea is daunting to him but he wouldn't be unfaithful to you, even if it would save his life. He would want to wait a few years before sealing the deal, he wants to know you, your soul, every sweet thought and dark desire, he wants to know everything.
G = Gentle (how gentle is he, physically and emotionally?)
Azriel is all about light touches that leave you wanting more, brushes against your arm with his own, light hand holding, small stolen looks across the room, just the sweetest thing. He tries his very best to hide any emotions he might have that would upset you, very aware of whatever emotional state you're in especially when you don't, needs some help to remember that he is allowed to have negative emotions and doesn't have to be ok 24/7.
H = Hugs (does he like hugs? How often would he hug you? What are his hugs like?)
Azriel doesn't mind hugs, if you hug him, he won't stop you and he will sometimes initiate them but, he's more inclined to other methods of affection; forehead kisses, cheek kisses, hand kisses, small adoring whispers in your ear, more kisses, longing looks, did I mention kisses?
However, when he does hug you, it's usually from behind so he has an opening for neck kisses or when he's just come back from a long mission and needs you in his arms.
I = I love you (who is the first to say, "I love you"?)
You. Definitely you, if you don't say it, the relationship is never happening. He will wait for you to spell it out, and even then, he isn't sure, like: you kiss him on the lips, stare lovingly at him, shyly say goodnight and he'd be like, she could have meant that as a friend, right?
Cauldron save this male; he is in Jude Duarte level denial.
J = Jealousy (How jealous is he?)
On the outside, not at all, very calm, collected, the most you'll see is a clenched jaw, or his hand might twitch toward Truth-Teller. Unless you show signs of discomfort, he will let you be.
On the inside? The leash on his anger is being pulled, and it has been pulled tight. There is no room for give on it. It is so taught that if a bird landed on it, it would snap. Whoever is in range should fucking run. And whoever it is aimed at should write their will and pray.
K = Kisses (What are his kisses like?)
Like I've mentioned previously, he loves giving you little pecks at random points of the day. However, when you're alone and he is just looking at you, and that wave of adoration hits him... he just can't help kissing you slow.
L = Little ones (How is he around kids?/Does he want any?)
Az gets really awkward around most kids, he tries not to get too close to them. He gets over this when it comes to kids he spends alot of time with, namely his nephew, Nyx.
Azriel is really scared to have kids, and at first he is completely convinced that he doesn't want any, though with the right person, He'll have kids, and he loves them more than the world itself. He resigns from his position as spymaster to fully commit to his family, he's got enough money, and he never looks back.
M = Morning (How are Mornings spent with him?)
Most days he is already training with Cassian before you wake up, but every Saturday, he has a slow morning wit you, or you'll wake to breakfast in bed.
N = Night (How are nights spent with him?)
Some nights you shower together, and it's sweet and wholesome, you do your skin routine and he'll watch with a smile fro the door way. You even manage to rope him into a nightly face mask later into your relationship.
He says goodnight with a million kisses all over, pulling the blanket over the both of you and pulls you in close, holding you no matter how much you move around in your sleep. If you're a sleep walker, no you're not.
O = Open (When does he start revealing things about himself? Is it all at once or bit by bit?)
Bit by bit for sure. Every small thing you learn about him is earned, there is no volunteering of information. You have to extract the lore, have to practically drag him kicking and screaming into emotional intimacy. There are no flood gates. It is a tap that never runs, only leaks slightly. It takes ages to get to everything that happened to him, but it is worth the wait. It always will be.
P = Patience (How easily angered is he?)
For you, infinite patience, he will explain and re-explain a topic as many times as you need. He just comes back from going out while it's that time of the year and you say you need/want something else again, no worries, he'll go out and get it for you, as well as being ready for you to say you forgot to tell him you wanted something when he gets back and go out again.
You are allowed to do things that no one else could do and walk out alive, like pranking him, and I don't mean something that Cassian would do, like hide a weapon of his, I mean like:
Azriel walks into the room while everyone is chatting. You immediately notice his presence yelling his name in excitement, heads turn toward him. Cassian spits out his drink, Rhysand's mouth falls open, Feyre gasps, Mor's eyes widen, even Nesta raises a brow. It takes a moment, then the shock wears off, and Cassian bursts out laughing.
"What happened to your hair?!"
Azriel's brow furrows. "What do you mean?" He could see you desperately trying to hold in your laughter, but failed, and sunk to the floor, not able to breathe from how hard you were laughing. He could see Rhysand also fighting it off, but his face cracked, and he to, joined in, Feyre and Mor were not far behind.
"What? What is wrong with my hair?" Nobody could pause their hysterics long enough to say something. He stood in confusion until Amren, the only one who wasn't laughing at all said "It's bright blue, boy" that for some reason unleashed a new wave of giggles and Nesta cracked a smile.
He looked to the mirror hung in the hall, seeing that his hair was indeed a pastel blue, with flecks of purple near the ends. The truth was, he knew his hair would be an unusual colour today, his shadows had caught you buying the magic hair-dye, but he let you swap out his shampoo, as to not spoil your fun.
Even if he hadn't known, the look on your face said everything. "You are lucky I love you" he said, shaking his head and sighing, your smile only broadened at his words, your arms flung around his mid-section and face nuzzled in his chest. "I love you too"
Q = Quizzes (How much does he remember things about you? Does he remember everything in passing or does he forget everything?)
Little secret, Az is actually quite forgetful, when it comes to dates like your anniversary or the inner circle's birthdays (Including his own) he cannot remember it for the life of him. Luckily, his shadows give him reminders but when it comes to the details, like your coffee order, preferred foods, general likes and dislikes, it's like he has a separate compartment of his brain allocated to only you with unlimited space.
"How did you know I liked (Input song name here)"
"I remember you humming it when I walked into the room"
"When? I forgot about this song."
Short pause
"Eight years ago? Give or take."
R = Remember (What is his favourite moment in your relationship?)
If you ask him, he'll probably say when you said 'I love you' for the first time, or that time you woke up after a peaceful night, just looking at him with love but really, it was when he was pissed at Rhys and Cassian for disregarding his dislike of the Illyrians because they wanted him to 'embrace his culture'.
Rhys had sent him to go talk with Devlon and a number of other camp lords when they both had the afternoon completely free, spending it with their mates as if he didn't have a mate too.
After he got back, he had gone straight to you, and you had listened to him while combing your fingers through his hair. He had finally dragged himself downstairs to give Rhysand the news on the camps with you following behind him a few paces.
You waited outside the door, Azriel had opened it, about to leave when Rhys said he also wanted the report of some other mission by tomorrow morning. Azriel didn't even say anything, he'd just sighed and a muscle in his jaw ticked, then Rhysand had made some comment about his attitude, it was spoken with a light tone, but you had had it with his crap.
You had started berating him, yelling, really laying on it, not even letting him get a word in. Not that he could, he was too stunned.
Cassian had made the grave mistake of seeing what the commotion was. You brought him into it. Both Rhys and Cass had to just take it like children being scolded for taking an extra cookie. Neither would meet your eyes when you were done.
You grabbed Azriels hand, pulling him along as you stormed out. Once rounding the corner, you winnowed both you and Azriel to your house muttering under your breath. The only words he actually caught was "Fuck them" before you pulled him into bed and you simply cuddled for the rest of the night and well into the morning.
S = Security (How protective is he? How would he protect you? How would he like to be protected?)
Az is your personal body guard and the shadows are the surveillance cameras. No one in Velaris is safer.
He needs no physical protection, he needs emotional protection. He needs you to guard his heart like a dragon guarding treasure. He needs you to occasionally remind him to stand up for himself against Rhysand and Cassian because he deserves good things too.
T = Try (How much effort does he put into dates/anniversaries/etc?)
In the beginning, he is trying to impress you, to convey how much he feels for you through the dates as he struggles to articulate the enormity of his love. Like booking out theaters, really fancy dinners, picnics with way too much food and so on it's honestly overwhelming.
He eventually dials it back, finding a good balance of well thought out but not OTT (Over The Top). Every once in a while though, he'll still do an extra something.
U = Ugly (What is a bad habit of his?)
His tendency to shrink into himself when he's in pain, to ignore his needs, to put what he wants on the back burner to focus on everyone else.
V = Vanity (How concerned is he with his looks?)
See, the massive injustice of Azriel is that he barely gives 2 shit's, as long as he looks somewhat presentable, he couldn't be bothered to do anything more.
He wears the same thing every day, washes his face, combs hair, and he's ready.
He is blessed with effortless beauty.
W = Whole (Would he feel incomplete without you?)
He always felt incomplete, before he met you, there was a hole, after he met you, that hole was slowly filled up with your laugh, smile, and touch. If he had to lose you, that hole would be ten times as large and gaping, because the entire foundation of his very being went with you.
X = Xtra (A random head cannon for them)
He likes hiding little things like your keys or glasses (If you have them) so that when you ask "Azriel, have you seen my {fill in the blank}" he can stand there with said object in hand and give it to you, all so you'll give him that little smile and a kiss on the cheek.
Y = Yuck (What is something he wouldn't like either in a partner or in general?)
He can handle pretty much anything. There isn't much that could actually detour him from someone he truly loves. He puts up with Rhysand and Cassian every day for cauldrons' sake, but the one thing that is necessary is silence.
Not all the time, and he loves talking to you more than anyone else, but sometimes, after a long, hard mission, talking and general conversation is not something he's up for.
He just needs a quiet night where you're just next to each other, not speaking or anything just, existing.
Z = Zzz (What are his sleep habits?)
Whenever he collapses is entirely up to the mother... unless his ultimate weakness coaxes him into something more regular. If you just so happened to ask him to come to bed early, or asked him to be in bed by 11:00 at the latest because you struggle to sleep without him, and with the puppy eyes and pouty face too, well... how could he resist? He can't go after you have fallen asleep because you hold on to him, he can't just leave in the middle of the night, you'd be cold, and when you inevitably request that he stay an extra 5 minutes, those papers on his desk just have to wait, his mate is more important.
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