leaving-the-comfort-zone

[girlshadowthehedgehog]

oh, wait, if it needs to be said, i don't really subscribe to qpr sonic and shadow anymore! sorry to anyone who followed me for it, but it's just not in my beliefs anymore >_<!!

[ravengards-rogue]

WHAT SET YOU FREE, BROUGHT YOU TO ME BABY.

rdr2 men + short blurbs about their favorite sex positions.

ft. arthur morgan, john marston, javier escuella, and charles smith.

✧ tags : SPOILER HEAVY, fem + afab!reader, unprotected sex, light angst (in the horny post is crazy im sorry fdkjjkds), very gendered language, javier says one thing in spanish (thank u @nanamimizz), a little sprinkle of plot with each (and some canon divergency), john co-parents w abigail, otherwise just horny. 18+

✧ wc : about 1.4-8k each (6.3k total)

✧ a/n : sorry for making a multi character post for the cowboy game its cooking me to death. my john bias is showing rip. title is from rebel yell by billy idol but i listen to the bvb cover

sorry about charles and javiers but if i edit this anymore im going to level an entire city using hollow purple technique. please rb if you enjoyed i worked kind of hard on whatever this is.

sorry for . the THIRD repost of this i promise i wont after this. its just really bugging me. PLEASE

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ ARTHUR MORGAN + PRONE BONE ; 

It’s an odd feelin’ for Arthur. 

Wanting something, he means. Wanting anything as much as he wants you. He’s lived a less than quiet life up until now. And he ain’t the brightest, certainly, but living this kind of life teaches you many lessons. One of them being, it’s better not to covet anything. Coveting something you’re not entitled to, well—it’ll lead you places you wouldn’t want to go with a gun. 

Arthur has made the mistake of coveting love before, dreamed of a future so completely out of his reach he almost convinced himself it was possible. Dreamed of it so foolishly he’d even go visit a woman he very well ought to forget. It’s his problem, his burden to bear - always desiring outcomes unsuited to him. 

He’s just that sort of man he reckons. But he learned his lesson. He tries (tried?) to stay away from it after that. Tried not to pine too much for normalcy when such hopes had failed him twice. The loss of his child completely on his account and the loss of his love at the same fate. 

So, wanting you - well, he feels like the world's dullest fool. Really. How is it that Arthur had fallen in love with someone again? It had all just happened so quickly. You were another woman he’d saved from the O’Driscolls, though it wasn’t like you were no damsel. A lot of those men were dead by the time they arrived. That sort of perseverance would stick with you while you traveled together. Much like Sadie, you didn’t take well to housework - you liked to earn your keep. Though you’re not nearly so trigger happy. 

You’re quiet, thoughtful, well-read. Plus you’re good at making money. That’s why Dutch don't complain about you joining them, he figures. 

(Arthur tries not to pry into it too much at first, but he eventually learns that you’re gambling. Which is how you’re able to make such a fast turn around. A prim little lady like you makes for a fine poker player, and you love to play men out of their money. He thinks it’s one of the funniest and most interesting things about you. He can’t help but love you a little more for it. )

When the feelings in him start to stir, Arthur tries to overlook it. Arthur convinces himself, time and time again - that there’s no way he’ll grow more tender about you. Eventually, it’ll die down. You’re a decent woman is all, a kind one - who’s easy for him to love and even easier for him to confide in. In your time together, you often come to Arthur and you always seem to have some profound wisdom he is so sorely lacking. Someone easy to love, who does not expect much from Arthur at all. It’s only natural a lonely, covetous man like him would start to dream about you. He tells himself, it will pass eventually. Should he simply let it run by him, it will pass. But Arthurs a fool, you’ll remember. 

 Of course, by the time he understood all that - he already loved you enough that he couldn’t bear it. It was already too late and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. Especially not while everything changed around him. 

So, Arthur is undoubtedly a fool, but he’s lucky. He felt divinely blessed when you’d returned his feelings for him so politely. A coy little smile on your face, a laugh like you thought he was silly for being doubtful. Arthur tried to explain himself but you wouldn’t hear a word of it. Maybe that’s another thing he loves so much about you. There’s nothing he ever needs to explain. 

In any case, all Arthur seems to do lately is want you. Wants you when it’s inconvenient. Wants you before he wants liquor or a cigarette or some other vice. Any time anything goes wrong, you’re the first thing his mind can conjure up for relief. That pretty smile and that self-assured way of living. It’s hard to get time alone in camp. And Arthur is a man in love, so any touch could be enough to set him on fire. Last week you hugged his waist a little before giving him a kiss goodbye and he had to listen to you laugh yourself into a fit as he waited for…little Arthur to settle down. 

He don’t get many chances to be with you. Lay with you in that way that grown folk in love do. Though, if the two of you book it somewhere for a few days - the camp knows better not to ask where you’ve been. But it’s not often you get to really be together, where it’s peaceful to do that. Someone’s always hounding one of you to do something. 

Arthur is a lucky man though, like he said. Today he had time. Today he’s alone with you in a beat up little saloon and today he gets to do as he likes. He gets to be greedy. And it’s an odd feeling for him, really, to want something so bad he disregards everything else in the world for a little while. 

Feeling you, though - absolves the guilt for wanting. He’d be stupid to want you any less desperately. 

Arthur’s favorite way to have you is on your stomach. Laid flat, just barely pushed up against him as he fucks you deep. You’ll fuck like rabbits for a little while and Arthur will wear you out just like this, maneuvering you until you’re pinned all underneath his weight. You lose any fight you might have, too exhausted to worry yourself with pleasing him - and when you’re like that, you let Arthur take care of you. 

(He really ain’t talented at much, but he’s good with his hands. Being dexterous is part of being a talented shot. When Arthur has the time to spread you sweet in his lap and make you cum all over his fingers, he does so for as long as he can. At least until you beg him so sweetly otherwise. The same hands, soiled with gunsmoke, look so good so deep in you. At least in his eyes.)

Wet and pliable and helpless. Arthur loves you like that. He knows, he knows you’re anything but - but he’d be damned to pretend this don’t feel best. Tight, wet cunt so welcoming from all the pleasure he’s ripped out of you. Your bodies pressed together, your heartbeat pulsing through your skin. All sticky, honeyed need and animal desire as Arthur lets all of him sink on top of you. His heavy, lumbering form crushing you in - trapping you somewhere you can’t run from him. The curve of your spine pushed against his chest, ticklish. 

Every inch of his body that so wholly wants for you, Arthur aches to make you feel. Burn it in you lest anything happens that risks your forgetting. 

He can feel his hips meet your ass, backside squished against him - desperate for deeper friction. Whining. You’re whining to him so pretty, a pillow pushed underneath you to give friction to needy clit. 

Arthur can feel how much you want more. Maybe Arthur is greedy, but he likes that look much better on you. Your pussy is sucking him in so tight, silken walls pulsing with every shallow little measured thrust. Arthur lets his arm wrap around your neck, your face pressing into his bicep. You moan again and he laughs. 

“Arthur,” Your words come out in a messy slur. He lets his scruffy face press against your neck, a kiss behind your ear. He wants to kiss you all over. There’s not enough hours in the day. “Oh, god, Arthur,” 

“Still feels good, then, I’m guessin’,” 

“Shut up,” You huff and press your cheek into his arm. He doesn’t bother stifling his laugh. “Still feels…big. Stretchin’ me out—hicc—so much,” 

You really don’t try to rile him up - but you do a damn good job of it anyway. He groans, grunts as he pulls back and pistons himself in you. A gesture half-way between a kiss and the warning shot of a gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes, noisy and vulgar. Arthur don’t pay it much mind. He laughs against your shoulder.

“One of these days, that moutha�� yours is gonna get me in real trouble.” 

You giggle back at him 

“What kinda trouble is that now?” 

Even from your side glance, you’ve got that lovely little smile on you. Fuckdrunk and ingratiating, like you know he’s wrapped so tight around your fingers. And he is, like nothing else in the world could have him. A wave of possession curls up over Arthur, makes him press more of himself into you. Onto you. Another deep push of his cock, sliding against the tenderest parts of you. Staking some silent desire in you. He wants and wants and wants, and hopes that whatevers above him can forgive him for making the same mistake thrice. 

“Dunno,” Arthur comments, teeth grazing your shoulder and kissing the indentations “Got our whole lives together to find out, I reckon.” 

“I’ll hold you to it, Mister.” 

Arthur laughs. “Hope you do, Miss.” 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ JOHN MARSTON + COWGIRL ;

John doesn’t say that he loves you lightly. 

Hardly a thing he says can be said that way. Could never afford too. In an alternate universe where nothing goes wrong in his life, maybe - but he has a hard time picturing what the hell that’d look like. A version of himself so untainted, without all of the violence and blood and gunsmoke? Foreign. John can’t picture it worth a damn. 

Who John is without a deadbeat father and a dead Ma is somewhere far beyond his reach. Ain’t nothing about his life, at any point, lighthearted. 

On top of all that mess, he’s got a boy at age four with a woman he ain’t married too. And that relationship is always on rocky waters, even though John’s decided to do right by his own flesh and blood sometime ago. Most things in the world he should feel good about he doesn’t, and most things he should understand render him clueless. He’s a mess on multiple accounts, and he still doesn’t know how exactly he’s meant to approach this life of his. He knows what he should do, but nothing about how to do it. 

John doesn’t come to love you easily ‘cause he wouldn’t know easy love if it hit him in his face. Quickly and painfully, but not easily. 

Your return to the gang was an odd one. You were an old presence and your disappearance was an even older story. John thought he’d never gonna see you again for sure. You’d been a part of the gang back long before all of the nonsense that took place in Blackwater and you left about the time Arthur’s boy died. John don’t remember why you left exactly. He thinks it was a fight with Hosea, of all things.

 Dutch weren't too happy about it neither, but Dutch back then didn’t make a show. 

So you left, and John buried every feeling he ever harbored. You found all them again up in Colter, where you’d been living out your days lately. According to you, in the middle of riding, you thought you’d heard Arthur. So, somewhat recklessly, you went chasing him. Didn’t matter if he was just something your mind conjured. According to you, if it was him, it was at least worth checking to make sure. You’d reunited with Arthur and after some tears, he rode with you back to camp. 

Upon your return, the gang welcomed you with open arms. 

You’d done a lot in your time alone.You spent most of that time just like that, a ghost wanderin’ the planes. You weren’t gonna stay with ‘em, but Arthur insisted and Hosea did too. That wasn’t enough to compel, so John was last to chip in. You should stay, at least until Valentine. 

(Silently he thought, you should stay so John can trace memories of you. It was so long ago, he should’ve forgotten all of it. You were a year older than John and always on his ass but easy for him to talk to. Didn’t fuss over his failures. You just barely grew into your womanhood when you set your sights on running away. You wanted more than this life, and John never really forgave you for it. His first heartbreak, maybe - but it’s all too blurry for that. 

You understood him though better than anyone, and one day you were gone. Nothing’s really the same.) 

You changed tremendously and not at all. He missed you. God, did he ever. Missed you a long time. Didn’t realize how much until you came back and everything in him felt right again. Your return stirred up old feelings and everyone noticed. He wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, but he really wasn’t trying to fall back into anything with you. Not how he did. 

Just like you did back then, you read John like an open book. And just like he did back then, he loved you all too helplessly for it.  It was just all too easy again, to be with you. 

You stayed out of the way at first, for the sake of his family. 

But, John ain’t a half-decent man even when he’s trying to be. So he set himself on being with you. It wasn’t easy - most things with him aren’t as you’ll see.  Having you around again straightened what was left of his common sense, at least. He told Abigail before telling you. He figured you wouldn’t even reply unless that was all out of the way. That turned out as well as you’d expect.

 It was settled between the two of you thereafter. He’s lucky she didn’t toss him into the street. 

Everything works out in a way. As best they can between broken people. You make peace with each other. His boy loves you like a third parent (you’re better with him than John is). Abigail commends you for straightening out such a worthless man though she’s a little melancholy.  John just tries to stay out of the way. You’ll be together in the end. There’s a plan with the five of you. 

But until it all falls apart, he doesn’t get all that much time with you. 

There’s moments like tonight, though. Rare ones. Together out robbin’, cooped out some place in the woods where no one is around. A place so shaded by nightfall that John can absolve himself of every sin he’s ever committed in his life and pray at the altar between your hips. John is convinced he might find worship like he’s always hearing about there whenever he touches you, the marred skin of his hands and knuckles reading the scripture of your body with careful precision. 

You might turn him into a literate man yet. 

John glances up at you. Only the light of the fire and the moonlight there to accompany as he watches you over him. You’re beautiful. John couldn’t picture a single thing more perfect in his life. 

Your hands against his bare chest, nails digging into the flesh as you lean forward. Your palm dug into the dirt, John finds his own hands rested at your hips. John looks at you awe-struck, cock twitching at the mere sight. His heart settles in his throat, but he’s calm all at the same time. With you, he forgets. All of it. The worst of himself. 

Bare naked and so close, he watches your face as you strain. You feel soft. Every inch of you in comparison to him is. A bead of sweat slides down the valley of your breasts. John cranes his neck up to catch it with his tongue, licking a stripe up to your neck - letting his teeth sink into the space between your jaw and neck. You want to make it last and John doesn’t blame you. It’s so rare you get to have each other so unrestrained. John can feel all the ways you want him, can see it in your face - all pinched with need. You’re holding yourself back, trying to get it to last as long as the night will allow. It’s cute in a way.

It’s different than how he’s used to seein’ you, all cocky or otherwise. You’re needy like this. Just needy. His stomach turns with lust, jolting through him like a strike of lightning. His cock twitches against your folds, sliding against them. Pure admiration watching the sticky mess of his pre-cum and your own arousal mix together and smear on your mound. You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, faint and tender as you fall forward just a little. John laughs against your neck. 

“Darlin’,” He says with a huff. Not malice. Something akin to bliss, where he can rarely afford it “Have I done something to piss you off today?” 

You pick yourself up and look down at him and frown. John kisses the corner of your mouth, resisting some crude desire to fuck up into you. 

“Just,” You grunt as the tip of his cock passes over your throbbing clit, your whole body wracking to a shiver. John looks awed. “Pent up. Goddamn it,” 

John figures it out quickly after that. It’s this part of it he likes. The proximity. The closeness. Feeling the tremble in your hands as they struggle to keep up right, muscles strained in your forearms. Being able to hold you, to keep the pace or let you take the lead. The clear view of your face as pleasure travels up through your spine and melts into you. He grabs your hips, the fat dimpling underneath his fingers as he moves you along. He can’t wait. You don’t bother to protest seeing John can’t seem to bear it anymore. You collapse into his chest, your tits pushed flat against his pecs.

His cock throbs near painfully, sliding against your soft cunt before finding himself lined with you. He thinks to himself that it’s this he was looking for, as he tucks your face against his neck and lets his tip stretch you out slowly. Such a vice like grip, stretching - resisting him like your whole body can’t anticipate the sensation of fullness. You gasp against his throat. 

“John,”  

What a sweet sound from your mouth, even sweeter as he bucks himself up. Keeps you steady and lets his cock stretch you full, feel you deep. “That’s right, my angel. Didn’t think you’d remember my name when you’re all worked up like this.” 

“You’re,” You gasp and John thrusts, thrusts hard until he’s buried to the hilt. You shudder, walls pulsing around him as he bottoms out and John laughs like the terrible man he is. He fucks you again, over and over - a wicked little smile watching “Awful. Just awful, John Marston,” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” He hums against your mouth as his hand snakes between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit. “Wonder what kinda woman that makes you,” 

“A foolish one,” 

John laughs. 

“I sure do love you for it,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆JAVIER ESCUELLA + SIDEWAYS ;

Javier hasn’t thought about much other than surviving. 

It’s been like that. Been like that for a while, probably much longer than he cares to admit. He’s sure any sane man would suffer the same plight if they lead the same life. Anything but survival is little more than a pipe-dream, so Javier tries not to go for anything too strongly. In that aspect he’s like many of the members of the gang he’s in, perhaps that’s why he sticks to them. There’s that phrase Hosea’s always saying - that misery loves company. Javier will take any decent company he can get.  He’s desperate for it just like he’s desperate for most things - inwardly, silently. 

Some of that desperation may be symptomatic of who he is. After he killed a man in a crime of passion for a woman he loved and ran from a government who would sooner exile him than change, Javier decided to not dream anymore. Every revolutionary who dreams too hopefully pays the price in blood.

(Javier thinks there’s probably nothing in the world as true as this. A form of gospel. He remembers the first dream he ever had after his uncle passed. Not a nightmare but a dream. He remembers the exact feeling of waking up, cold and confused. What is a dream, except a memento of survivor's guilt that loyal people cling onto fruitlessly. When hope starts to feel like a debt he’s going to waste his life paying back, Javier loses sight of everything. The beginning of the end in some way.) 

His mind doesn’t occupy itself with anything bigger than that. Since Dutch found him starving, there was never a desire to try and live off aspirations. He pays his penance with loyalty and honor. Practices some form of humility and tries, not too desperately, to carve a place for him to fit. All without drawing too much attention or caring too much. If you ignore the bleeding in his fingers, his penchant for knives over guns, and his refusal to talk too long about the place he comes from - it’s nearly believable that none of it matters. 

Except loyalty. All Javier honors is that. It’s the only thing he has some part in choosing, so he choses it every time. Living like that didn’t make any difference to him. He was surrounded by mostly decent people. He didn’t hate the life he was living. 

It wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. His directionless-ness, his floating. Hadn’t since he joined the gang. At least not to anyone but him. He didn’t know what he’s meant to do or if he was meant to proceed with this forever. He was (is)  loyal to Dutch. To the gang. 

He hadn’t thought much about what comes after. 

And it didn’t matter until he met you

He’d sworn off love after seeing where it got him, at least until he could love more dispassionately. When the women bring you back from their outing from Valentine and beg Dutch to let you stay, Javier doesn’t think much of it all. He thinks you’re pretty, if it counts for anything. But he doesn’t let himself linger on you too long. 

But that’s the sequence with you two, really. The whole time.  He doesn’t linger until he does. It doesn't matter until it does. He doesn’t think about you until it’s all he can think about. 

You go for him first. And it’s in little, unimportant ways that might not mean shit to you but mean a whole lot to him. You have some kind of tenderness about you that you wear deep, runs through your blood like love ran through his once long ago. Some softness he can’t really measure with his own. It’s not that that gets him. It’s that sometimes you look at Javier like he's … someone you want to see. He forgot what that was like all together. It felt foreign to him the first time it happened. Seeing how you light up when Javier is around. 

You wanted to see him. You noticed that he’s gone. If he sang by the campfire - you’d sit by him and listen.  If he was out in the trees keeping guard, he’d hear the soft call of your voice to Grimshaw ask Where’s Javier? And sometimes the girls will make fun of you - but you wouldn’t deny anything they said. It’s so small and ordinary. He would’ve never considered himself simple before meeting you. Nothing is simple. Nothing. 

(But then, Javier thinks of the kinds of songs he sings and the way he takes care of himself and the clothes he wears and maybe Javier has some kind of affinity for preciousness that explains all of it.) 

When Javier confesses his feelings for you - he finds the affair to be like most things between you. Ordinary love, not really between outlaws but people. It’s up against a tree while you share a drink and he’s looking at the curve of your mouth and the plum color Karen’s so kindly put on you. And his head fills with kissing you so he does. A breathless confession between alcohol stains and the feeling of your hands curled in the lapels of his suit. 

From there, Javier is your lover. He’s not interested in the business of secrets, but he tries not to let it show too much. Not that he doesn’t want to. He wants to show you off more than anything - at least some part of him does. But the other part wants to keep you away from prying eyes, keep his love for you only where the both of you can see. If he could keep that pretty lovestruck face you make all to himself forever he would. 

When he gets a chance to whisk you away from everything, Javier jumps at the chance. Not often, but Javier makes time for you. Makes time to indulge in love he thought he’d  never find again. 

That’s why he’s here with you in the middle of nowhere, a ghost town where no one knows you.. A reserved room with a bed and lowlights all to yourselves. 

Javier can’t keep his hands to himself and he doubts you expect him too. 

For Javier, this sense of proximity is what intoxicates him most. The warmth of your bare skin in the slivers of yourself exposed. Javier is fond of finding you like this after a long day of horse riding. Of sneaking touches to your waist as you push back against him to sleep, only to find his desire for you - laid clearly. He likes hearing you whimper feeling his length poke against your back, the embarrassment when it dawns on you that he wants you after all. Always surprised, even though Javier tells you it so often. Whispers it along your neck and shoulders whenever you’re at camp together.

You like the feeling of his hands so Javier always starts with them. He squeezes your hips. Planes his palms over your chest before squeezing your chest, pushing the fat between his fingers. You like the way  they look when they grope you, his chin resting against your shoulder as you spoon. In the lowlights of a cheap hotel - Javier gets the perfect view of your silhouette. Your body is sensitive over the fabric of your gown, heat prickling through you. 

Javier who is always so gentle with you, rouses so deep listening to your whining as he explores your body. The suffocating closeness of a single bed intoxicates him. 

“Javier,” Your voice is sweet and thin. Plays in Javier’s head like music and makes his mouth curl up into a catlike grin as you push back on him.  You look slightly over your shoulder, lips pushed into a pout. “Please,” 

He tugs at the fabric of your nightgown. The top half pulls haphazard underneath your tits, nipples perky and sensitive to touch while the skirt pools at your waist. What gets Javier like this is the desperation. Wanting so much but not being able to look too long. A way for you to mirror him, it’s a matter of possession. In some stupid way. Bunching your clothes up, pushing the fabric of your panties to one side, letting his arm wrap around your waist to touch and tease.  All of these are imprints of his longing, tucked faithful into your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.

His cock twitches as it pushes past your folds with finality, your hands curling up at your sides.  You whimper softly, let your cheek rest against the sheets as Javier takes you on your side. Terribly close, you fuss as you feel him slide every inch into you slow, your hands reaching back for purchase. It’s the fit of you against him so perfect, the silent strokes of intimacy, the hush-hush giggles between the sheets that Javier loves most about fucking you like this. Too enamored with you to look too closely, he lets his eyes flutter closed. He could get drunk just being in your space. 

He carves out space for himself inside of you, feels your cunt accommodate for him like it loves him. A feverishness breaks out as his forehead rests on the space between your shoulders, an uncharacteristic whiny quality in his words. 

“Ser mío,” Javier says - as a reflection of what he really wants, to belong only to you. “Belong to me.” 

Darling as you always are, you nod softly. 

“All yours, Javier,” You whimper, finding his hand. “Forever,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ CHARLES SMITH + MATING PRESS ; 

Wandering. 

He’s been doing it his whole life. Not something he’s proud of. Or ashamed of either, really. Just how things have gone for him until now. Charles doesn’t think his life has been any better or any worse than anyone else's. At least not when he weighs it with the same kind of pragmatism he does most things. It’s been a hard life, and a miserable one in so many ways. Still, it’s not something Charles is too keen to dwell on. 

There’s just something thematic about loss in Charles' life in a way he finds completely unpleasant. It’s more constant than anything. Loss of his home, loss of his mother, loss of his father in an attempt to find what’s best for him. It’s some overarching message that hangs over his head like a shadow. Everywhere he goes, trying to rectify his own solitude seems to come back to him. It doesn’t help that it’s an unfair world to start with, and would’ve been if he had just been black or just been native. But Charles is both, and has lived a life that reflects that specific injustice thoroughly. 

There’s not really anything Charles can do about it, at its baseline. When he left his father, the name of the game had simply been survival. He was well-equipped enough for that at least. But after survival comes trying to live and trying to live isn’t something so simple. Jumping in and out of gangs who thought they could get away with slighting him or generally being surrounded by unpleasant people. Trying to find something in pages of book and scripture, or in the way water ripples when it rains. 

He’s never felt any one way towards the gang. Even when he joined them all the way back in the Grizzlies. Lost in the cold, they’d crossed paths as Charles was out hunting. A lot of it feels like a blur. Of all the folks he’s met in his travels though, Dutch treats him fair and the rest of them (or most of them) are decent, honest folk. Charles stays in the Van Der Linde gang for such simple reasons as trying to stay alive and be somewhere that isn’t actively hostile towards him. He’s a good gunman, and a better fighter. The inner workings of gang politics and forging connection isn’t at the forefront of his mind, with the exception of the kindest few. 

The Van Der Linde gang is just a place where he can figure out what his purpose is meant to be, even if he doesn’t find it there. He’s never expecting anything to come out from his loyalties to it. 

Of all the things Charles expects of his life in the Van Der Linde gang, love is at the very bottom of the list. 

Maybe it’s about time he stops being surprised by these things happening to him one or way another.

 You were a member of the gang far before him, and someone Charles took to quickly. You’d joined the gang not too long after John from what Arthur tells him. Though the brunette speaks about you more fondly than he does his brother. A problem child at the start, according to Arthur - always getting into all sorts of trouble. Something you seemingly feel embarrassed about now and refuse to bring up. Charles has a hard time picturing it having only known you as you are. 

The woman you’ve grown into is someone else completely, and Charles sees that in you all the time. Compassionate like Hosea but charismatic like Dutch, and clever. And you’re beautiful, too, though Charles feels a little shallow admitting that’s part of what drew you into him. 

It wasn’t Charles that approached you first. You were the one who spoke to him, as often as you thought necessary but never in a way he found invasive. He doesn’t know what it is exactly about you that charms him near instantly. You’re enigmatic to a fault. It’s like you always know exactly what to say and exactly when to say it. Even more than that, you’re a terribly pleasant person to be around. Subtly warm and free of assumptions. When Charles talks to you about anything, you listen without making him feel like it’s any sort of burden to you. You don’t pry, don’t make missteps. Treat him fair, and then some. 

It’s unbearably simple, just how quickly and how easily he comes to adore you.  And, in some ways, Charles knows better than to believe that his purpose is loving someone. There’s more to it than that, surely - after everything. 

But then, he’ll watch you do something. Watch you do some kind of menial work that he could do for you instead. Thinks of skinning animals for new clothes and chopping wood and rubbing the soap off of you and all of a sudden it makes him feel anchored. Everything he could do for you. You anchor Charles easily, with a wispy smile. Make him want to find purpose in life with you. He never wants to be somewhere you’re not. 

He confesses it to you just like that, and like you do with most things - you accept and reciprocate without making too much of a fuss. 

For Charles, making love is an extension of wanting to ground himself in you. A distant siren song - the intersection of lust and bone deep adoration. Like most things, you’re the one to approach first every time. A soft hand on his forearm, a whisper that you want him. It’s with ease that he draws you away. Drags from you camp during nightfall with his horse and blankets and picks a spot with the perfect view of the stars. 

Charles watches you under the glow of moonlight, his vision adjusting to you easily. Naked underneath him, laid on your back with your legs folded at your knees - heaving deep breaths. He can see the sweat beading down your skin, your chest rising and falling - and the perfect view of your pussy. His hands and mouth are wet as you breathe out. He finds himself smiling at you, his own erection pressed against your thigh, pre-cum leaking out in a mesmerized haze. 

You lift your hands up and he leans down, surprised as you wrap them around his neck and pull him closer to you. Your mouths meet like that, and Charles laughs against your lips as you kiss him so eagerly. You blink at him, pretty. You’re always prettier than he remembers you being the last time he looks. 

“Charles,” You frown at him. “It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting,” 

He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, my love. I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“Well, I’m fine with it,” You repeat, almost petulant. Charles frowns. “‘Sides, it ain’t my first time taking you, you know?” 

“Well, I’m not fine with it.” 

You pout, looking at him all endeared. Charles couldn’t help but love you even if he tried. “You ain’t gonna hurt me. C’mon. Please?” 

“Please, what?” 

You look at him aghast before breaking out into a faux-scandalized giggle. “Now you—please fuck me. Pretty, please.” 

Charles feels something tickling against his spine hearing you say it. He couldn’t imagine getting sick of you in his whole life.  “Yeah, that’s good to hear.” 

You make an indignant noise but it’s silenced quickly as Charles positions himself against your entrance. He has plenty of discipline when it comes to matters like these, but right now - he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. Not nearly enough patience to wait. He lets his hands go up underneath your knees just to have something to hold onto. 

You make a little gasp as the tip of his cock pushes into you. Your walls are so soft, likely after all the orgasms he’d given you prior. You stop him in a shocked gasp, and Charles immediately readies himself to pull out. As if sensing his hesitance, you shake your head. 

“Charles,” You gasp, the words caught in your throat and hoarse “Deep. Want it deep,” 

His abdomen tightens, cocking twitching hard at your words. He agrees silently to your desires. 

When it comes to sex, there’s very little Charles dislikes.

But this is his favorite. He’s simple but no other position lets him see you so close. He likes the way your eyes widen as he pushes up underneath your knees and folds you underneath his weight. How you look pinned down under him, the perfect view of your eyes rolling back into your head and the proximity from your face to his. He lets his cock stretch you out slowly, throbbing each time your nails dig desperately into arms trying to keep your composure. Fuck you feel so tight like that. Soft pussy, dripping and sticky. You suck him in relentlessly, and Charles groans as he bottoms out. You take every inch of him so well. So perfect like the rest of you. 

Your eyes flutter open as he stays there, buried in you in complete bliss. You’re dazed. 

“Kiss?” 

Surprise followed by adoration, he abides by your request easily. Overwhelmed with it as he presses a chaste peck to your mouth, he laughs. “As many as you want.”

Anything you want, Charles thinks, he would give to you. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[ausp-ice]

I am Names. You can call me that if you want. To friends… how about Friend? To strangers, Stranger. To those who dislike me, how about Odious? To those I dislike, I can be Vile. If you're unsure, how about Ilk? Or, if you like… you can give me your name, and I'll give you a new one. We could even share. But what are names, exactly? They are titles, they are windows. They are promises and self-fulfilling prophecies. They are identities and they are masks. They are opportunities and chains. Names have power, more power than you might think. So, think carefully… what shall your Name be?

Names (mirrored/any), Edeia of Names. My little indulgence for a fae-inspired Edeia! Definitely just inspiration though. Folklore was not referenced for accuracy.

(They definitely play the "may I have your name" / "may I have your pronouns" game.)

More about them below the cut! And even more about them on TH.

Edeia Site | Edeia Discord | Personal Website

About Names

The Edeia generally known as Names has many names, and many facets of their self to go along with them. Some might think of the countless names as false identities, but for Names, each name they use is one real to them, one in which they'd found themself. They enjoy testing the limits of who they are, who they could be, and who they want to be. 

Names also enjoys playing "games"… where they are always at an advantage in one way or another, and/or at no risk of loss. These include deals, gambles, and other arrangements they find interesting. For instance, even if another offers their Name, Names will never offer theirs—if they even have any risk of loss, besides their magic power. One example of a gamble they might play with a human is that if the human wins, they'll give them a name sure to bring them great financial success and stability; if the human loses, they'll give them a name of a pariah. They don't care too much about the outcomes for these humans; they're just as happy to laugh at someone as they are to laugh with someone, generally speaking. 

Names does like to give a fair chance, however—or fair enough, however you look at it. They've crafted their abilities so that others' Names aren't immediately revealed to them, for one. They'll avoid finding out others' names and other forms of address outside of interacting with them directly, as it's part of their "game" of getting to know others.  

They also enjoy all sorts of music and dance; they collect every kind of instrument and try to learn it, and like to learn all sorts of dances (with a preference for folk dances). They also create their own instruments, compose their own songs, and choreograph their own dances. In their games, a human might find themself relieved that their loss penalty or price for a deal is simply to teach Names a dance, a song, how to use a certain instrument, or an instrument itself. Names might invite others, including humans and Edeia, into their Abstraction for a festival of song and dance. 

Names is unrepentantly themself in all their names. They have made themself into exactly who they want to be, after all. They can enjoy good company and friendship, though they don't particularly care if others dislike or grow to dislike them; they are just as happy in solitude, in their music and dance, and in their "games." 

History

Names was once an Identity—rather, they were a human that would have become one. Let's call them Ming (名, Míng, meaning 'name'). They were born among the Chinese landed gentry during the Tang Dynasty with the Idea of Identity, and they grew up highly aware of the kinds of identities others had around them. They were particularly drawn to others' names, however: how the names affected them, how those names affected others. Many they knew had two, three, or more—their given name, courtesy name, art name (pseudonyms, or hào), nicknames, and perhaps other titles. 

As they grew older and made their own name for themself—or perhaps names for themself—they indulged in the experience of giving and receiving names. Names exchanged with Ming had some magic power imbued in them at that time, though not too much. 

It was when Ming met another Actualized Identity, who revealed Ming's state, that Ming realized their magical potential and began experimenting with the extent of their abilities. Through their experimentation, they felt that they did not simply want to be another Identity. They had their own names. They were more than just an "Identity." They sought a deeper understanding of themself, considering each of their names and what they meant; eventually, Ming was, through their magic, able to define their Name. Then, by knowing their Name, they became able to change the essence of themself. Without hesitation, they altered their state of being an Identity to being their own self, and named their Idea as Names. 

At the moment of their changes settling in, they felt themself at a threshold, and Actualized. 

Names traveled often after that, making their way across various parts of the globe. They stayed for quite a while in Europe, delighted and fascinated by the cultures, and having their fun with humans in certain areas. Names and the activity of some other Edeia around this time led to more and more tales of fae, and Names enjoyed taking on the name of Fae to play around with the people, playing up to that name while still being no less true to themself. 

When the time for the Age of Secrecy hit, Names played along with Order's game as well. It was fun to see what they could do within the bounds of secrecy—how for they could go without receiving a warning. As it turns out, quite a bit—so long as humans didn't know there was magic, they could be as superstitious as they wanted, and Names's games worked well in the realm of secrets and uncertainties. They traveled often, sometimes blending their Abstraction with a real forest and inviting in guests to come and get lost in music and dance. After a night of revelry, the human visitors would find themselves asleep in their homes, thinking the experience a fun dream. 

After Reunion began, Names continued their games—and was much more open about their existence. They registered with Data and occasionally visited reunited society (often to learn music and dance), but preferred to travel, spend time in their Abstraction, and draw people in to play their "games." 

[rottenshotgungames]

Alright, let’s start with discourse, shall we?

Gatekeeping Combat

Three days ago, the Gorgon Bones blog made this post about fighters in TTRPGs (particularly the OSR): https://gorgonbones.blogspot.com/2024/02/choosing-fighter-means-choosing-violence.html?m=1

I recommend reading the post, it’s fun (and the comments are hilarious). But, for those who don’t have the time or attention span (trust me, I’m lacking in spoons right now too), this is a relatively short joke that suggests protecting the Fighter class’ niche by making it the only class able to participate in combat. This, on its face, seems like an inherently silly idea—because it is—but people have been interacting with it as a serious suggestion. This comedic concept has spawned a legitimately interesting design discussion. So, let’s engage with it as a thought experiment. How would one make this function in a fun and reasonable way? The simple answer is that you have to start with conflict.

Conflict in RPGs, particularly in Dragon Game derivatives (such as the OSR), is often violent in nature. This presents the first hurdle: How do we centralize combat to 1 class when it’s a major source of conflict, conflict that people inherently want to engage in? As I see it, there are two approaches:

Decentralize Combat.

Redefine “Engaging in Combat.”

Decentralizing combat is kinda just what it says on the tin; make combat a less important source of conflict and means of resolving it. The two biggest examples of this—to me—are Investigative Horror Games and Stealth Games, both of which rely on central conceits that CAN involve violence but don’t necessarily rely upon it. A non-OSR example would be John Harper’s Blades in The Dark, in which combat is resolved the exact same way as every other conflict: through a series of dice rolls that result in ticking and unticking a clock (with possible complications).

Redefining what it means to “engage” requires a bit more definition than the prior approach. “Redefining” can be subcategorized into two somewhat disparate techniques: Redefining goals and redefining interactions.

In any TTRPG combat, the party tends to have a list of goals that exist in a hierarchy of priority. For example, in a traditional D&D or Lancer combat the hierarchy of party goals might look like this:

The Contest (express martial superiority, wipe out the opposition, or otherwise win the combat)

The End State (survive the combat and prevent as much harm to yourself or other party members as possible)

The Barrier (achieve the exploration or narrative goal that’s being hindered or prevented by the combat)

“Redefining” these goals is more accurately described as a re-ordering of their hierarchy based upon whether you are or aren’t the Fighter, usually through gameplay incentives. An incredible example exists in the form of Mike Pondsmith’s Cyberpunk 2020, in which the Solo role (through virtue of acting first and being generally able to specialize heavily into combat) can almost singlehandedly decide the outcome of any fight in which they are present. If there is one Solo on the field, their side is probably going to receive a swift victory; your job, as the non-Solo, is simply to not die and accomplish what you actually came here to do. If there are two Solos on opposing sides of the combat, their goals change to winning their private fight; your job, as the non-Solo, is to survive the surrounding combat until the Solo is free again (or to run if they lose). In almost every combat, the Solo will prioritize the Contest while the rest of the party will prioritize either the End State or the Barrier, something aided by Cyberpunk’s lethality and its nature as a heist game.

“Redefining combat interaction” is . . . actually found everywhere. This is your basic class differentiation taken to a greater extreme than you may find in most tactical RPGs. For example, let’s look at the Combat relevant difference between the Thief/Rogue/Mercenary and the Fighter in a majority of games that use such classes:

The Fighter - Deals a lot of damage with consistently accurate attacks (sometimes also makes multiple attacks on their turn). Has high health.

The Thief - Deals a lot of damage with one really powerful attack made from stealth, sneaky (sometimes good at dodging). Has low health.

The differentiation is there, but it’s not really significant (for the purposes of this thought experiment). Both classes focus on damage output, but one makes multiple attacks and one makes a strong attack that requires setup. Let’s try to take this difference and expand it (with a little help from our dear friend Tolkien), particularly by focusing on what makes the Thief unique in comparison to the Fighter:

The Fighter - Deals a lot of damage with consistently accurate attacks (sometimes also makes multiple attacks on their turn). Has high health.

The Thief - Subverts direct combat through the use of trickery and cunning, plays support for the Fighter (sometimes good at dodging). Has low health.

“Subversion,” in this context, simply means fighting dirty. The Thief shouldn’t be engaging in a head-on fight, they’re a Thief. Their interaction with hostile entities should always be tinged by deceit, their goal should always be to throw their enemy off balance, to create openings for others and themselves to use. If your Thief isn’t constantly throwing pocket sand and disarming opponents and knocking chandeliers on top of them and pulling cloaks over their eyes and poisoning them and . . . are they really living out the Thief fantasy? By strengthening the Thief’s core identity, leaning fully into the trickster aspect, we have redefined how both classes interact with Combat in such a way that has made direct, head-on-head violence the apparent specialty of the Fighter.

Conclusion

As much as the original Gorgon Bones blog post is a joke, Jenx does point out a real issue that’s plagued class-based games for a while: a weak niche makes a weak class. Not necessarily mechanically weak (although that can also happen, looking at you CP2020 Cop), but weak in the sense of fundamental design. Strong niches, even if every class has the ability to participate in combat, are born of purposefully and carefully built interactions with the conflicts presented by a game’s rules and environment. If combat is too great of a focus, everyone is going to want to be able to play the guy who’s good at combat; if winning combat is the sole goal of any given encounter, everyone’s going to play the guy that’s good at winning combats; if every class gets good tools for dealing damage . . . well, I don’t really have to spell that one out, do I?

If you’re designing a tactical, class based game: don’t make the Fighter the only class able to engage in combats. It’s lazy, it’s silly, and it won’t be fun for very long. You may notice that, while the two games mentioned here have classes that EXCEL at direct combat, neither of them fully limit it. Instead, the proper lesson of this thought experiment is a far more common one in our field: keep in mind the incentives you’re building into both your game and your classes, and be aware of how all these moving parts interact with and affect each other. After all, the Solo wouldn’t be nearly as good if Cyberpunk wasn’t so lethal, and the Cutter would be far more ubiquitous if Blades in The Dark had a dedicated combat chapter.

Self Promo

Hey! Thanks for reading. Sorry to leave ya with Baby’s First Game Design Lesson, but I hope ya enjoyed the journey there. If you’d like to see my recent attempt at a class based fantasy game, you can click here to check out Hollow Halls. Otherwise, I hope y’all have a great night and a great day!

[tooruswhre]

JUJUTSU SORCERERS BEING PARENTS.

– feat. g.satoru, k.nanami, t.fushiguro.

– footnote. new fandom alert! been having jjk in my masterlist since the beginning of time and finally decided to get a kickstart.

obviously this is arguable, just opinion based and can be interchanged with any characters to your fancy!

– content warning. suggestive (?). implied fem reader.

i can only imagine that SATORU is a girl dad. he knew from day one that he is more than ready to spend the rest of his life with you and create a family sometime down the line. and upon hearing it was a girl, the sorcerer was beyond prepared. he spoils that girl all night and day, and it can only be assumed that she is a daddy’s girl from this behaviour. given that he is a sorcerer, and that alone comes with it’s own difficulties; he made a promise to come back to you and his babygirl in one piece every night. he would give her the world and any star in the sky if she wanted.

++ he is such a good listener when it comes to his kids; which makes me believe that his daughter is always willing to share her gossip and boy problems [ to his disliking lmaoo. may i mention he’s overprotective? ] with him because he gives the best advice.

NANAMI would be such a sheltering-helicopter parent, I can just feel it. protecting his children from the dangers of the world and making sure they’ll be able to protect themselves if he isn't somewhere arms reach away. and when he is arm's reach [ 89.9% of the time he is], he’s really probably sitting a few tables or standing a few people away from the kids, unbeknownst to them that he’s watching over them like a stalker. nanami just wants the best for his kids, just doesn’t truly know the way of going about it, so, they wouldn’t understand in their youth.

++ given that he is quite strict, he’s the type of dad that his kids would be scared to ask him for things. though, he loves them unconditionally; just a bit rough around the edges. you’re always the middleman for things, the kids ask you to ask him for them in every situation [when they want something, wanna go somewhere etc] . nanami is pretty blind-sided to that charade; wouldn’t question it if he wasn’t anyway.

to be honest, TOJI wasnt really looking forward to having kids, simply because of his lifestyle. but the conversation of having kids was in your interest; and knowing him, he’ll do anything to make you happy. nevertheless, your child was welcomed into the world a while later. and now he loves that he has a mini-me running around, showing them all the cool tricks and abilities daddy can do. he can’t tell what he loves more, the process of making love to you; or what that outcome brings. nonetheless, he suggests that the two of you should have more kids.

++ i also want to add that this man is soo laidback, if you haven’t figured that out by now. toji is the type of dad to provide his kids with logical instruction and respect!

[theabysss]

Hiii good morning/afternoon/evening!

I just saw the event post and I have come bearing a request.

If you do not mind..Can I please request a sagau kinda crack fic where there’s a tournament/competition being held in Teyvat where vision users must prove their love and devotion to the creator by fighting to the death (oooh brave scaryyy fighttt~) and whoever loses a.k.a dies are “punished”

Everyone thinks this “punishment” is horrible. Like they’ll be sent to a place where they can no longer feel their creator’s grace.

But little do they know this punishment actually just turns them into one of the creators thousand of plushies.

So they just sit there in the bed, unblinking, soft and squishy, watching their beloved Grace going on about their day normally

I recently read the Zhongli turning into a plush fic and my mind went “How about the other vision users turning into a plush?” Also I think my request is more like a reverse!isekai than sagau..Sorry..!

Fem or GN!Reader please! (While I prefer fem as I’m a female I would like this to be as inclusive as possible for other people out there..! So GN is most likely more suitable)

I’m not sure who the characters are but..If you can, can you please add any of the anemo boys and Itto?

I apologize for making this incredibly long. Please feel free to delete this request if you don’t want to do it! Anyways, that’s all. Thank you and I hope you have a wonderful day!

It's okay about the length of your request, I really liked that idea. I hope you enjoy the way I wrote the fic, this is my first time responding to a request and I'm a little nervous. Of the anemo boys, I chose Kazuha because I'm actively trying to get him c2 now, I hope this fic will help me lure him. If you have any other idea and you like how I wrote this one, you can send another request while the event lasts, I will be glad. ヽ(´｡• ᵕ •｡`)ノ

summary: A tournament in which your allogenes must fight to the death with each other, proving their loyalty and devotion to you Creator. But what fate awaits the losers?

characters: Kazuha, Itto, Zhongli, Raiden + mentions of some other characters.

warnings/tags: gn!Reader, religious + cult themes, possessive & obsessive thoughts, description of deaths (not detailed).

word count: 2.2k

It was a beautiful sunny summer day, the warm wind playfully ruffled your hair, it must have been Venti's antics. Ordinary inhabitants of the regions came to support the vision wielders from their nations, hoping that one of their people could become one of the seven champions, bestowing glory on the entire nation. For your allogenes, as they said, participation in the tournament was the best way to show their loyalty, love and devotion to you. You chuckled, their willingness to put their lives on the line for a slim chance of winning and getting your confession amused you.

You shifted your gaze to the archons standing next to the throne, they were forbidden to participate, otherwise the outcome of the tournament would have been too predictable, and it was not interesting that way. Although you allowed adepts and youkai to participate, and it may not have been fair, you just wanted… more entertainment. Venti's offended expression popped into your head when he knew he couldn't compete in the tournament. On that day, he followed you like a tail, not unstick for a second, hoping that you will change your mind. The reaction of the other archons was much more restrained, but each of them was certainly upset by the impossibility of participating in the competition. After all, they were your most loyal followers, following you for thousands of years, and the fact that you denied them the opportunity to show their loyalty to you frustrated them. But your desire was above all, so they simply accepted your decision.

Catching your gaze, Zhongli bowed his head respectfully.

"Do you need anything, Your Grace?" The geo archon's eyes were full of awe and willingness to fulfill your every wish.

"Please feel free to tell us if you need anything." Ei joined the conversation. "Perhaps you would like to taste the Inazuma confections? I have specially brought them for you, and I hope they can please your exquisite taste, Your Grace."

"Sounds wonderful, I'll gladly taste them, in that case, Zhongli, could you make some fruit tea?"

"With pleasure, Your Grace." Zhongli bowed.

You smiled brightly at both of them and noticed how Zhongli's breath hitched for a second, and a blush spread across Ei's cheeks. You followed them with your eyes as they went to fulfill your requests. The tournament was about to start and up to this point you wanted to face some of your especially favorite allogenes. So that you instructed the servant to bring the two people you named.

Itto could be heard from far away, explaining something very loudly to Kazuha walking beside him.

"Of course, I will definitely take the place of one of the seven champions, it cannot be otherwise, because I am the great and invincible Arataki Itto, the supreme, the one and oni!"

"Behave yourself, we are in front of the Creator." A smile appeared on Kazuha's face as he met your eyes and knelt down on one knee with his hand on his heart, Itto follows his example.

"I'm glad to see you my allogenes, you can get up from your knees, let's leave excessive formality."

Kazuha and Itto obey your order, you could see a spark of curiosity in their eyes, why did you ask them to come? Just do not think that they were unhappy with this, for them it was only a joy to be next to you, your presence always warmed their hearts.

"I just wanted to wish you the best of luck for the competition, you are one of my favorite followers." Your smile was more tender than the most expensive silk.

"I'm honored to be one of your favorites, Your Grace, I won't let you down, I promise." There was a fire in Kazuha's eyes that should have led him to victory.

"That's right, we will definitely win! With Your Grace's faith in our strength, we will definitely become champions! Ushi and I will show you excellent fights and after the victory, maybe Your Grace will agree to fights with bugs."

"Well, if you win, I'm really up for a couple of fights." You giggled. "I won't delay you, you can go back to the others."

Bowing once more, Itto and Kazuha left, and a minute later Zhongli and Ei returned.

"As you requested your tea Your Grace, the flavor is based on sun-dried mulberry petals and should have a sweet aftertaste due to the addition of zaytun peach juice." Zhongli gave you an elegant porcelain cup and placed the teapot on the table next to the throne.

"It's a dango Your Grace, bon appetit." Ei handed you a plate with colorful balls strung on a stick and poured with sauce.

You take a bite and the sweetness in your mouth. Tasty. The widths are tender and seem to melt in your mouth, you cover your eyes with pleasure. In the blink of an eye, you eat the confection and look at the plate with sadness.

"It was delicious." You put plate on the table and pick up a hot mug of tea and blow on it before you take a sip.

Ei lights up with joy "I'm glad you enjoyed it, maybe you'd like some more sweets after the tournament?"

"I won't refuse such a generous offer." You lean back on the throne and continue to sip the tea, just like Zhongli said it had a sweetish aftertaste. Not the worst tea you've had in your long life.

Soon the iron smell of blood will be in the air and the people will cheer for cruelty. What a rotten world, but how do you like it. Perhaps among all your creations, they were the most bloodthirsty and devoted. Your beautiful dolls, ready for incredible deeds, are all covered in blood and with wide smiles on their faces until the very end. The last sip of tea marks the beginning of a bloody dance from which seven will come out victorious, and the rest… what about them, something much more interesting awaits them.

It's time to start the tournament. Thousands of eyes are attentively watching you with bated breath as you rise from your throne, walk to the edge of the loggia and put your hands on the railing. A wide, joyful smile appears on your face and you begin to speak.

"Today, on this beautiful day, there will be a tournament with life-and-death battles between my precious allogenes. The names of the seven winners will be covered with glory and they will be personally blessed by me. The losers will be punished after the resurrection. The stakes are high and if anyone wishes to opt out, now is the last time you can do so." Your voice, picked up by the power of the anemo, resounded throughout the arena.

You look around the participants and all you see in their eyes is the will to win. Their souls burn with fiery determination and no one is going to retreat. Even if the punishment is excommunication from your divine presence, a terrible event, the thought of which makes their hearts bleed, they were willing to take the risk. Your gaze lingers on Kazuha, his serenity standing out a lot from the nervous anticipation of the other allogenes, which some of them hid just a little more carefully than others. Also striking was Itto's high spirits, whose wide smile was brighter than the sun. No wonder they were your favorites.

"Since there is no one who wants to withdraw, let's start the tournament." You returned to your throne and prepared to watch magnificent battles in which every drop of blood spilled was dedicated to you.

The number of contenders for victory gradually decreased. After each battle, the sand in the arena changed its color to red more and more, and the screams of the crowd became louder. Childe quickly and brutally cracking down on the next opponent, ignoring other people's attempts at resistance and having time to wink at you at the end of each fight, before someone else's head flies away from the body. Diluc whose phoenix mercilessly roasts the next unfortunate to the bones, so that the smell of burnt flesh could be felt a few more fights after. Distracting the attention of opponents with the help of hydro illusions and the swordsmanship of the Kamisato clan brought Ayato victory after victory.

Unfortunately, your favorites' chances of winning were dwindling every second, each of them was badly enough wounded that he might not survive his next fight. However, you never really believed in their victory, but still called them to give them hope. Yes, and then it will be funny to watch how they will apologize to you for losing, when you also personally bestowed your blessing of luck on them. Though they'll have to survive the resurrections to begin with, it's a pity you didn't say how quickly it would happen, so they would have been in a very unusual position since then, but you didn't think they'd complain.

The last fights have passed and the seven winners have been determined, as you thought Kazuha and Itto were not among them. The spectators from the regions whose participants won shout even louder than before, while the residents of the losers are depressed and look enviously. You go down to the arena with Zhongli and Ei, and when you almost slip on the blood-stained sand, you grab Geo Archon's hand. Zhongli's muscles tense up under your touch, and the warmth of your hand is felt vividly even through the fabric. He closes his eyes, hiding his pupils that have become vertical for a second, you were so close to him, exciting close. Your warm palm burned through him, making him feel butterflies in his stomach, as mortals said.

You do not focus on what happened, and without letting Zhongli say a word, you quickly approach the winners. The Allogenes' eyes flare jealously when they notice you are holding Zhongli's hand, but you don't let that feeling flare up and start talking.

"Congratulations to you all on your victory, your strength and devotion have been proven, this evening there will be a ball where you will be honored and I will perform a blessing ritual."

They bow respectfully and praise you, saying that it was only by your mercy that they won. How happy they are now standing in front of you among all the applicants. You smile favorably at them, allowing them to enjoy your presence next to them. When you leave, they sadly follow you with their eyes, but it is not so strong because they know that you will see each other again in the evening.

You dress up in beautiful clothes made of expensive fabrics to your taste, smile at the mirror, knowing that the eyes of all those present will be turned to you. After all, you were their Creator, their precious Creator for whose sake they were ready for anything. You enjoy the ball, drink sparkling wine, which, unfortunately or fortunately, did not affect you in any way and dance with some winners. When one of them manages to make you laugh, all those present eagerly absorb this sound, recording it on the subcortex of consciousness in order to reproduce it later.

You return to your chambers and fall on the bed without undressing, you may have been immortal, but emotional fatigue still affected you. There were a lot of plush toys in your room, they were everywhere, on the bed, sitting in armchairs and on bookshelves. Their eyes seemed to be watching you intently. Well, there was nothing surprising in the fact that they did it. You took the toy in which Kazuha was supposed to be. A cute charming toy for you, silent, but understanding, seeing and feeling everything. And there were a lot of those. You gently kissed the toy, if you had done this while he was a human you are sure that he would have been redder than boiled cancer. The lack of reaction was frustrating, so sooner or later you were going to put them back into human bodies. In the end, it would be a real loss of so many insanely loyal and devoted followers. But for now, they could just be your cute toys.

Night or day they are always watching, greedily absorbing every little thing, every gesture, everything that you want to show them. Your sleepy expression in the morning, the way you stretch before finally getting out of bed, the exposed areas of your skin when you get out of the bathroom. They enjoy all these and are infinitely glad to be here in your chambers so close to you. Getting to know you better and better, remembering all the little habits. They don't want it to end, you won't let them get that close if they become human again, will you? So they'd rather be here with you in that state, just please don't leave them alone don't put them away in dark wardrobes or closets, let them watch. Please.

Reblogs, comments, are always greatly appreciated! ヽ(o^ ^o)ﾉ

[laundryandtaxes]

I think it's bizarre to believe that one approach to any problem (especially problems we know to be partly biologically mediated or constituted and partly socially mediated or constituted) is likely to universally fit every single person impacted by that problem. And I think there are many situations that have revealed that plenty of people really do prefer magical thinking and lack of any scientific knowledge if they are able to garner some hope from a perspective that is based entirely or mostly in magical thinking. I don't even think this is necessarily a problem, or at least a solvable one- it's essential, as I see it, to the continued existence of religion in humanity, which even I cannot claim has never done any good for any person or for people as a group. So long as this tendency doesn't win out on a large scale as a meaningful approach to problem solving, I don't exactly think it's a threat to humanity.

One of the most interesting examples to me, largely due to my work background and the prevalence of alcohol abuse within restaurant workers, is how absolutely vitroilic a lot of abstinence-only recovering alcoholics become when they make any contact at all with individuals who are trying to lower but not eliminate their alcohol consumption, especially in a systematic and controlled way. It is not just that they claim it is irresponsible to promote programs other than abstinence-only programs to active alcoholics (and even that I find nonsensical- less alcohol is almost always better than more alcohol, because we know for a fact that a lot of the negative health outcomes from alcoholism are a direct result of too much alcohol itself, regardless of whether it was consumed alone at night or while binge drinking at parties, which tells us that the obviously important social element itself does not mediate the biological damage) but that they often claim that it is universally the case that someone who finds themself problem drinking will only ever become more of a problem drinker until they quit entirely. The reason this is so especially striking to me is that it is so obviously and easily proven untrue by experiences which many people have outside of the bubble provided by abstinence programs. It is simply not the case that every individual who drinks more than they're comfortable with during a certain time period is destined to develop cirrhosis if they don't put down alcohol forever, and most people know several individuals whose alcohol use patterns obviously disprove that theory. Almost everyone who drinks knows someone who drank too much for their own personal comfort at one point and had to reel their consumption back in. But, of course, when most people know that someone is an alcoholic, they limit how often they talk about alcohol or their consumption of it out of respect or a desire not to trigger that person into craving alcohol, and the end result is that many alcoholics find themselves just totally cut themselves off from the alcohol use perspectives and experiences of anyone who isn't currently trying to be totally abstinent or doesn't believe that abstinence is the only way to deal with alcohol abuse. And I suspect this will only become more sparkly apparent as doctors begin to try, for instance, off label use of the GLP-1 agonists along with other medications to try to lower the desire for alcohol in patients, etc, or as more and more slightly science-backed but ultimately still pill mill or subscription peddler programs pop up aimed at helping people lower their alcohol consumption. I'm excited to see new perspectives become mainstream, and I think a lot of the pushback is quite literally an attempt to ostracize new perspectives by presenting them as irresponsible, cruel, dangerous, etc.

[ageingfangirl2]

How Many Knives Are Too Many! Mihawk (OPLA)

You are a bounty hunter and friends with Mihawk. He finds your presence intriguing because of how open you are but deadly when you have to be. Drinking some wine together you recount an encounter with a few marines and Mihawk is not at all surprised with the outcome. Mihawk x Reader (Female) FLUFF!

MIHAWK

I'd finished my business in town when I bumped into y/n of all people. They weren't collecting any bounty but simply enjoying some time off. On the outside, they weren't very intimidating, rather short and unassuming with their actions, but when they went to work a switch flipped in them and you didn't want to be on the other end of their blade. They had no alliance and worked for the highest bidder. We'd crossed paths multiple times over the years until on one encounter they suggested getting drinks, and we bonded over a shared interest in fine wine.

I wanted to leave this town and get home but they convinced me to get a drink and to catch up. Due to our reputations rumours spread of us dating but we had more of a teacher/student bond as y/n did come to me to ask for training. I was impressed with their skills and decided to keep them in my life. After a few drinks, they would joke around and intimidate people around us, but we'd never done anything more than simply kiss, both of us having too much respect for the other to ruin our friendship.

I enter the local tavern and everyone falls silent at my presence. I ignore them and glance around until my eyes land on y/n who was waving at me obnoxiously enjoying the scene I'd created. I stroll towards them and sit down opposite them, placing my sword against the wall but still within reach.

'I already ordered. Don't worry the wine here is decent, not the best but not the worst for the price,' y/n babbles, and starts pouring me a glass.

I bring the glass up to my nose and sniff, it doesn't smell bad, 'I never doubt your ability to pick a good wine no matter the location.'

They smile and raise their own glass towards me, 'I do love your compliments Dracule, makes me feel special, it's been too long.'

We clink glasses. y/n was one of the few people I openly complimented, 'yes it had been too long. Anything interesting happen?'

Their eyes light up at my question and they nod, 'Oh boy, I have a story. Happened yesterday, bloody marines getting nosey. I play for both sides sue me.'

I raise an eyebrow, 'what did they do?'

y/n sips their wine, 'a random search in the middle of town, so I put on a show.'

They would let many things slide, but Marines had a way of rubbing them the wrong way, and I knew this story would end with embarrassed Marines and a smug y/n. I motion for them to continue.

'There were four of them. One took my bag and asked if I had illegal weapons knowing I carry knives without even announcing they were doing a search. I was annoyed but I played along,' they say calmly, but a glint in their eyes gave away they were more than just annoyed, 'they opened the bag and tipped all the contents on the street.'

'Then what happened?' I enquire, swirling the wine in the glass.

y/n smirks, 'I unbuttoned my blouse and pulled a switchblade out of my bra telling them we were going to do this search properly, they got flustered and tried to backtrack but I insisted.'

I shake my head and a smirk graces my lips, y/n had a nice body and a tonne of confidence, so it was easy to imagine them stripping to their undergarments to prove a point, 'you would have reported them, wouldn't you? If you're going to start something see it through to the end.'

y/n hums in approval, 'I told them I keep two strapped to my thighs and one in either boot. I got my fly open when they called off the search and apologised to me, but I got the final laugh.'

I put my glass down on the table and lean in closer and they mirror my action, 'what was the final laugh?' I ask.

They snigger, 'One of the marines looked new and young, poor kid got an erection.'

I bring my hand to my mouth to cover my outburst of laughter, needing to protect my brooding image, but y/n's eyes twinkled knowing they are one of the rare people to have made me laugh on multiple occasions. I kind of wish I'd been there to witness the scene since I imagine y/n keeping a straight face half undressed embarrassing the Marines because people in town would talk.

I lean back and pick up my glass, 'another toast, to dumb and horny marines. I approve of the amount of knives, better safe than sorry.'

We clink glasses again and y/n giggles, 'I'm just thankful I chose to wear a bra.'

I nearly spit out my wine, y/n would happily undone my image for their amusement. I hoped they'd be in my life for a long time.

[bananasfosterparent]

The difference in AA is his soul being irreversibly gone. That is the point and this is what Larians writers have been hinting at and this is what irks people about AA. The oversexualisation and erasure of his trauma, effectively erasing him as a person. I know we're talking about a fictional character, but if we're gonna go off on the topic, saying something "doesn't matter" is just a cop-out. Astarion didn't need to be "fixed" to the point of emotional lobotomy.

I don't think it's wrong to like or prefer him, but I think it's valid to have opinion on the matter, much like you have yours.

I started to apologize for the length of this, but honestly, since you sent the message, I'm going to respond to every part of it. I'm not sorry for the rambling lol

"The difference in AA is his soul being irreversibly gone."

Okay, show me the quote/scene/dialog in-game where this canonly is said and confirmed? Where does it say the ritual will ever touch his soul or any part of the game talks about his literal soul?

And if by soul you mean the "lose who you are inside" as a metaphor, that's still a matter of opinion and not actually canonly what happens. Astarion is still himself. The "changes" in his personality are shifts to simply adjust to the company he is around. He's essentially code switching.

That is the point and this is what Larians writers have been hinting at and this is what irks people about AA.

Got it. So the point of Astarion's romance is for Larian to write a singular story that has one ending you're "supposed" to enjoy with a "morally good" conclusion, and one ending that's fun and sexy, but "supposed" to be a cautionary warning of how things "shouldn't go". Because that makes sense for a "choose your own adventure" game and that's why the romance stops with AA as soon as you ascend him, and he enslaves and compels your character and you can't continue the romance with him--OH WAIT.

The oversexualisation and erasure of his trauma, effectively erasing him as a person

"The oversexualization".... So you know my Tav's personal motivations and why she chose to ascend him? And you're confident you know I made the roleplay decisions I made because you know it centers entirely and solely around it being to sexualize him?

Interesting.

Because that couldn't be further from the truth. My Tav has an entire story for why she chose to ascend him and it has nothing to do with how sexy it makes him. And it was a story I came up with well before I knew about any of this "sexualization" concept. And as a player, I didn't ascend him because I wanted a sexy vampire. I went into his romance blind and had no idea what would happen when I did it. I ascended him because it narratively made sense for my character and their relationship. But even then, if I wanted a sexy vampire, why is that a bad thing? He's not real.

And I find it so ironic that a lot of spawn fans who are anti-AA only enjoy AA for the sexual parts of that ending. Yet, we're the ones "oversexualizing" him lol

As for "erasure of his trauma"... where do I even start? What does that even mean? lol I'm not gonna lie. You sound young or unaware, but believe it or not, in real life there is more than one way to deal with trauma. And dealing with it in a way you don't agree with doesn't erase the trauma or mean the person is pretending it never happened. Ascended Astarion very much addresses his trauma and exercises a different form of healing.

In a fantasy world, you can actually explore those other options and have the outcome work FOR you, even if it wouldn't in real life. Accepting your fate and trying to align yourself with "morally good" choices is certainly not a bad thing and one way to go. In real life, that's what I agree with, as a Christian and believer in Christ. But Faerun doesn't have a Jesus. They don't have the same real world ideas of morals. They have their own gods, their own history, their own moral perspective outside of our world. Bringing in (your perspective of) our real world morals is a valid way to roleplay, but it's not the "only correct" way to roleplay.

There is the route of overthrowing what was meant to control and destroy you, and taking control of it yourself. Taking what was meant to be against you and making it work for you instead. For me, that's what Astarion's ascension means.

A smaller example of this is if you give Astarion Gandrel's crossbrow to use.

This weapon was designed to work against vampire spawn. It allows for its user to possibly inflict Turn Undead on enemies and gives them advantage in a fight against monster types. And yet, Astarion can wield it and use it effectively. He can take what was created to hurt and destroy him and use it to work for him.

Ascension can be the exact same thing. It's not a matter of which opinion of ascension is morally right. It's a matter of which decision on ascension is right for your Tav and their story with Astarion.

...saying something "doesn't matter" is just a cop-out.

Can you show me where I said "something" "doesn't matter"? Cause it wasn't in any of my recent posts. Are you referring to one of my older ones?

Not only do I not know what part of what post you're referring to, BUT I also don't know what I was talking about, if I even said "something" doesn't matter. I don't know what that "something" is.

Astarion didn't need to be "fixed" to the point of emotional lobotomy.

I'm glad we agree on something. I've seen people claim ascension is "fixing" him (because it eliminates the negative traits of vampirism) and therefore it's weird to call anti-AA spawn fans "fixers". But the difference is trying to change(fix) his morals and view of the world to reflect a "good" worldview (the spawn ending) VS trying to change (fix) his circumstances and lack of control (helping his ascend).

AA fans do not want to change his personality or his mental/emotional state. We want to change his circumstances so that he has a place to be able to make those decisions on his own. And for most of us, Ascension provides that perspective.

Spawn fans want the same thing. But the approach is more to convince him from the inside out that he can make those decisions without ascension. And that's also true. But not more valid or the only way.

But his personality does not change in either ending. In one (spawn ending), he is able to find freedom in just being free of Cazedor and exist the way he always has with a newfound confidence and peace.

In another, he is able to find freedom in taking the helm himself, and holding all the cards to be the one on top. He finds confidence in having the power and being able to wield it, without fear of anything he's had to fear with the negatives of vampirism.

But in both, he is still the same person. He still gets joy out of the same things (killing people, having/causing/observing bloodshed, and causing some chaos), he still has the same personality. The difference is in his circumstances and how he presents himself.

I don't think it's wrong to like or prefer him, but I think it's valid to have opinion on the matter, much like you have yours.

You don't mean that. Because if you did, you wouldn't have a reason to send this anon message in the first place. You wouldn't care enough. It wouldn't matter. You wouldn't have this opinion. You would be able to see value in both endings and respect the positive perspective of ascension even if you don't understand it, without arguing headcanon points like "his soul is irreversibly gone".

Your entire message is literally you trying to tell me it's wrong to like him and that the opinion I have of him is invalid and wrong. I already respect your opinion on both sides of him. Because it's your right to how you roleplay and see him. If you respect mine, you're doing a really awful job at showing it.

Regardless, if that is your intention or not. That's what sending this message says. If you really want to say you respect AA fans for enjoying AA, then stop sending AA fans messages like this and either completely avoid AA and the fans or refrain from trying to argue against it. We can discuss it and not agree while also respecting each other's roleplay choices.

This is not a wrong vs right conversation. It's a "what's your preference?" conversation. Spawn vs Ascended should be like "what's your favorite Pokemon type?"

The sooner that is realized, the better off this fandom will be.

[knight-of-the-graces]

I... am having EPIC Thoughts. I read a post that talked about how Odysseus really isn't doing any better with ruthlessness than mercy, and I just started thinking, so... here you so. Yes, I'm writing an essay now, you're welcome, I am 'That Guy' in every fandom I'm in ever, yes.

Ruthlessness and Mercy: Would It Matter? An EPIC: The Musical Study

In short... no. No, it really wouldn't.

From the beginning, the conflict was never about ruthlessness or mercy; it was always about the will of the gods. It never mattered whether Odysseus was merciful or ruthless or prideful or what-have-you, insert-chosen-character-trait-or-flaw-here-- the only thing that mattered was if he was obeying the gods, if he had angered them or not. Odysseus wasn't the problem in The Odyssey, at least at the start.

(This is not me saying the man doesn't have or cause problems, because he definitely does, but the overarching problem of The Odyssey isn't about Odysseus.)

Think about it. Several of the gods had decided --at least, in The Odyssey-- to make Odysseus' life a living nightmare. The reason for this seems to vary, but it's there. So right there, no matter what he did, what choices he made, the outcome was already decided for him. He was doomed from the start and didn't even know it.

See, here's the thing, about the Greek gods: Most of them really don't care about mortals any more than most humans care about insects. Interesting on occasion, but usually just something to ignore. And then you have the people who like to torment them, to pull off their wings and legs and watch them suffer and squirm-- those are the gods who involved themselves in the Trojan War. They weren't interested in the affairs of mortals in that they didn't care about the cause of the war, only that it was something interesting to do to break up the monotony of their daily lives up on Mount Olympus, a chance to show off and compete with one another and settle old scores. (I'm particularly upset about Aphrodite. Like, seriously, who just kidnaps some poor woman to marry off to a random guy she's never even met? I mean, c'mon, you're a literal goddess, you couldn't've just... y'know, made a person out of clay instead of kidnapping someone who already had a husband and family? Goodness.)

But anyway. Let's take a hypothetical, shall we? Let's say that Odysseus didn't show Polyphemus mercy, when Athena said to kill him. Do you really think Poseidon would've been any less angry about a dead descendant than a blinded one? I mean, even in this same tale the gods were known for taking vengeance on those who wronged their descendants, and being dead is definitely worse of a wrong than being blind, at least in my humble opinion.

Then, let's take into consideration who exactly killed him: that'd be Odysseus, King of Ithaca and all of that... and a champion of Athena. Now, this might or might not be common knowledge, but Poseidon and Athena competed extensively for the patronage of the city of Athens, and Poseidon lost, badly; that isn't the kind of slight he'd forget easily. (I mean, an olive tree is a food source, though, so... sorry, but it's definitely more useful than a salty spring from the salty man of the sea. Thanks, but no thanks.)

In EPIC, Odysseus had at least defied Athena, so she'd left him by the time Poseidon could discover what exactly he'd done, and thus wasn't responsible for defending her former champion; however, in a Ruthless hypothetical, he'd done exactly as she'd said, and now she had a predicament on her hands: Abandon the champion who had obeyed her to the letter, or face the wrath of Poseidon herself, too?

In The Odyssey, Athena abandons Odysseus to face the wrath of Poseidon by himself, so as not to incur her uncle's ire as well. So in our hypothetical, she would likely have abandoned Odysseus here too. The only thing that would change would be the guilt.

Why is that?

Well, to put it simply, there isn't a way for Odysseus to not incur Poseidon's wrath here. Polyphemus is Poseidon's son, and Odysseus --in order to save the lives of himself and as many of his men as he can-- will do him harm. Poseidon, as Polyphemus' father --whether a good one or not--, is responsible for avenging a slight against his bloodline. Athena, due to Odysseus' actions, will leave him.

Perhaps --straying from the question of ruthlessness and mercy-- if Odysseus hadn't said his name, if pride or anger or stress or whatever interpretation of it you take hadn't influenced his decision, Poseidon might not have learned who was responsible for the act. But then again, who else was sailing the sea --Poseidon's domain, about which he knew every detail-- in that exact area at that exact time, with a captain clever enough to give his name as Nobody so as to not reveal himself, with a sudden influx of stolen sheep on their ships where Polyphemus the shepherd had lost his?

Really, though, that isn't relevant. The question was if it would make a difference whether he was ruthless or merciful, and honestly... I don't think it would make much of a difference. One way or another, his crew was going to die. One way or another, he was going to wind up alone. Do you think that his crew wouldn't have mutinied after yet another monster their captain had chosen to spare came back with a vengeance? Do you think they would have listened when he warned them about Helios' cows then?

Do you think a merciful Odysseus would've chosen his traitorous crew, his former friends, over the chance to see his wife and son again?

[anneapocalypse]

6 and 8 for Dragon Age! Choose violence!!!!

🔥 Choose Violence Ask Meme 🔥

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

I'm gonna be perfectly honest: I have drawn my little circle of Dragon Age fandom such that I really don't find any shippers annoying. I also basically like all of the canon romances I've played on some level and there are none that I have a visceral Nope about, and as far as non-canon romances I cannot find it in myself to get bent out of shape about rare pairs, which is what most non-canon ships end up as, realistically.

My hot take is that in this fandom, anyone who leads with "X shippers are the WORST EVER--" is about to be far more annoying than any of the shippers I know.

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts is a good quest.

In many ways, I think it's actually comparable to playing A Paragon of Her Kind as a non-dwarf. In both quests, people often complain about not having access to all the information about the candidates, by which they mean that the game does not hand them a piece of paper explaining to them why one candidate is the Good One and the other Bad, what's that noise oh it's me banging trash can lids together in your backyard and hollering THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A BENEVOLENT MONARCHY, THERE IS NO GOOD MONARCH, POWER THAT CONCENTRATED CAN ONLY BE SUSTAINED WITH BLOOD, ALL YOU CAN DO IS DECIDE WHICH ONE IS GOING TO DO THE LEAST HARM AND/OR IS MOST EASILY MANIPULATED BY PARTIES YOU WISH TO SUPPORT.

Coughs. What I mean is, the frustrating lack of information given to you, an outsider, is kind of the point. No matter who you play as the Inquisitor, you are canonically not Orlesian and you do not know the Imperial Court intimately no matter how politically savvy your character may be. You are an outsider, and to many people a dangerous one. You are here as a guest; you were not invited with the intent of letting you choose the ruler of a sovereign nation, and people are not simply going to hand you information to that end. Even some of your advisors may have personal motivations for withholding information that you would have liked to know, perhaps because of their own involvement or complicity in certain events. You know. Perhaps.

So you have to do your own digging. You have to climb trellises and sneak into locked rooms. You might get lucky opening the right doors and finding something really useful, or you might not. You might say the right thing to the right person and get a valuable lead, or you might fumble it never knowing what you could have had.

We love to poke fun at the RPG tropes of every NPC immediately giving you their life story and asking you to solve all their problems. Isn't it kind of interesting when a game doesn't do that--when you have to take your own initiative if you want a specific outcome, when other characters aren't just dumping information on you and assuming that you'll act on it in a specific way?

I think one of the most interesting aspects of WEWH is that you can in fact choose to do nothing. Yes, you have to follow the basic outline of the quest, but at the critical moment you can just not intervene and allow Florianne to stab Celene and Gaspard to take the throne--effectively, letting things play out as they would have had the Inquisition done nothing. Gaspard of course winks and treats you as an ally because you assumes you're complicit, but you could in fact just have been indifferent. Game mechanics make it obvious you're making a choice, but in-universe it's simply that you have chosen not to act.

And if you do choose to act, you do not get a guaranteed Good Option. No, you don't get to flip the tables and completely overturn the social order of a sovereign nation of which, again, you are not even a citizen. You have to work with the situation you're in, and try to bend it to whatever advantage you see fit. You get no guarantees.

Sure, there a few places where I think WEWH fumbles the ball, but on the whole I think it's a brilliant union of storytelling and creative game mechanics.

[xjulixred45x]

EEEEE HEYYY!!! Im so happy ur request are open like omg my day has gotten SO much better!

Can I please get a Yandere Platonic Lucifer x Daughter reader? (Blue exorcist :>) As well as Yanplatonic Mephisto with daughter reader. ( blood-related. maybe with both readers growing up and realising how shitty their father is??)

We need more content with them and I loved your previous headcannon about Lucifer so- THANKSVSGFS.

Headcannons please :>>>

MORE PLATONIC YANDERE!! YESSS! and from Blue Exorcist! Thats a Plus! Deal!

Platonic Yandere Mephisto Pheles/Platonic Yandere Lucifer x Daughter! Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings:(here we go) YANDERE BEHAVIOR, PLATONIC YANDERE, kind of infantilization, MENTAL DAMAGE, ISOLATION, Treats of violence, Manipulation, mental issues due all this, Mephisto is a psycho and Lucifer is NOT BETTER, LONG POST, I think is all.

Platonic Yandere Mephisto

He's a very difficult platonic yandere to have because you simply can't take him seriously and he can't take you seriously.

Mephisto is a case in which you know from the beginning that he is a screwed up father, and not in the "trash man" sense but in the sense that he has something wrong in his head and he knows it himself.

He is like the Mad Hatter in several ways. and you are Alice. HIS ALICE.

Don't get me wrong, of course he loves you, you are the Apple of his eyes, although at first he definitely only kept you out of a kind of curiosity to see how you would turn out once you grew up having been raised by him.

Would you be chaotic? His total opposite? A little of both? Maybe like Amaimon? As long as you weren't like Lucifer, he was quite amused by any outcome.

What he didn't expect was growing up to love you very fast. But he was pretty fine with it. Being your "Dad" was interesting for him and he did have fun when he did it.

And precisely although you interacted with him daily while you were growing up, not only did he raise you, but also maids and other services, it is thanks to that that you knew the difference between good parenting and what HE did.

He was not exactly bad at the start, just too chill, too relaxed, he was NOT an authority figure, but more than anything, this am

Although while you were little, there really were no Yandere tendencies other than the standard honestly.

to be somewhat unsettled, that already seemed part of his nature so it went very unnoticed.

That anyone who tried to hurt you would end up DEAD, even just children who pushed you or people who spoke slightly badly to you, was enough.

although honestly you didn't make the connection with your father and this for a long time.

simply because...it was kind of fun growing up with him? Look, the guy is a walking joke, a jester, the older you got, the more he wanted to interact with you, which led to certain pretty nice moments, like amusement parks, having tea, things like that, NORMAL THINGS you enjoy to have with him.

Remember what I said about him being the Mad Hatter and you being an Alice? You can bet he made that an official nickname for you and they even played "Alice's Underground Adventures in Wonderland" many times.

This, along with the fact that you couldn't really take him seriously, was what made you ignore its most deplorable aspects for YEARS.

that only got worse as you grew up.

For example, Overprotection was not as bad as in other cases (ahemahemDAUGHTER OF LUCIFERahem) but it was definitely annoying due to the absolute lack of privacy.

If you go to True Cross Academy, the contrast between your upbringing and that of your classmates is much more noticeable (apart from the fact that now you can notice more when someone you mention that you dislike disappears or something like that)

and when you mention it to your father or seek an explanation, you are only dismissed! as if you were a little child making up a story for his parents...

It is around this time that you realize Mephisto's unhealthy tendencies towards you, even when he tries to use the excuse that "that's how demons love" you know that he didn't used to love you like that when you were little....or rather malleable?

something is wrong with your father and you BOTH know it...

which obviously generated arguments where no matter what you said or what argument you used, he would always dismiss it by saying that he was the adult who was thousands of years old and that he had the last word over you.

All this not without first trying to infantilize you as much as possible, without success, luckily.

and it was... sad for you, because now you couldn't ignore these aspects of him anymore and know that THIS was really what he wanted.

He doesn't want a daughter, he wants an ETERNAL BABY...

He likes the idea of infantilization in the sense that it brings back good memories of when you were little, he wants to always have that and that's why he wants you to continue acting like that (if you are a complete demon it is a PLUS because you age more slowly and he can do it more easily).

another clingy one who doesn't respect personal space, although he will at least stop if you yell at him for a minute without breathing. although sometimes he prefers that you pamper him eg his dog form. don't question it. he's crazy

a great pamperer! Before all this happened, you used to love their gifts or at least they made you laugh because of how strange/extravagant/ridiculous they were, but now they just make you feel bought...

In general, the whole situation of seeing how your father is trash IS difficult.

However, it is not advisable to rebel against Mephisto, believe me, he will use his powers against you and it will be FOR THE WORSE.

I don't think he's above using his time manipulation to make the isolation that much more unbearable and distressing, even using his apparent ability to materialize things to make the experience a living hell for you.

He is simply not willing to accept that he is wrong. Yes you accept that it is morally wrong, but isn't that the fun thing?

You can't believe I'm still taking all of this as a game at this point, but not really, at least not entirely. Yes, it amuses him to see you all angry with him, but if you try something in his SERIOUS eyes he will get serious.

and that is honestly terrifying.

are you trying to escape? now the hallway is an endless loop, and time passes UNSUFFERENTLY slow. Again.

talk bad to him? He will laugh in your face, those things honestly don't affect him. He is already happy knowing that you are whole, healthy and safe (he would like you to be happy too, but hey, you can't do everything in life).

hurt him? Good try but no, you literally won't even land a hit on him, he doesn't find it that fun because you could get hurt, but he'll let you do it until you get tired. the baby has to burn energy after all.

hurt you? Yes, no, if necessary he will threaten to rip your arms off to prevent you from hurting yourself in any way or doing something worse, he doesn't mean it but for a moment he was scared by the possibility that you could REALLY do something like that.

Honestly, it was terrifying to see him so serious about something, ABOUT YOU. You almost thought he REALLY mean it if it weren't for the fact that HE TOLD YOU NO, he even scolded you for thinking something like that about him.

If he can't watch you, Amaimon does, and while he's not nearly as clever as your father, he definitely asks too many questions and eats too much.

When he is the one watching, he tries to talk to you casually, as if nothing happened. If not, try to remember old moments from the past, but really? it only makes you feel worse, you already have to deal with his current yandere tendencies and your little consolation is the good memories you have FROM THE PAST.

And now he wants to stain that little comfort you have because of a childish whim...? yeah, fuck off.

At least he has the decency to meet some of your demands, like entertainment or your favorite foods, who knows, maybe he'll let you out again if he's feeling generous one day. until then....

Platonic Yandere Lucifer

He's a suffocating platonic control freak Yandere, I mean, you can see it by how he has the Illuminati.

but you honestly didn't realize how fucked up a dad he was until you were a teenager.

precisely because Lucifer is a very manipulative and overprotective type of Yandere over you, regardless of how you have been conceived, you are the light of his eyes, the person he loves the most and the one he TRULY wants to keep safe.

I can see him having conceived you with some human or demon to see if he could use you for a cure for his condition, but he became almost instantly fond of you.

paternal instinct? He would have laughed unfunnyly before, but now it seemed very real.

But then he realized all the possible future scenarios that could happen to you. What happens if you end up with a weak body? Or with his illness? you wouldn't be able to defend yourself from the outside world.

Thanks to his paranoia, he ends up raising you exclusively in the Illuminati base, in a fairly comfortable but very lonely life, of course, maybe he lets you interact with the children of some members from time to time, but they are all terrified in your presence and have a attitude of total submission. You are Lucifer's daughter after all.

Also thanks to this everyone continued with the lie in which your father lived, everyone agreed with him, someone as precious and important as you should not leave and risk being devoured by the world.

(Can you imagine the members of the Illuminati's being platonic Yanderes for you too? ☠️ it would be the last straw but very much in character).

You lived a life very isolated from the world, but Lucifer tried to be an affectionate and attentive father as much as possible, to be better than what he had.

There were still good moments between the two of you.

Let's say you are a healthy girl, but you know that your father is not healthy, he lives in constant pain and sometimes they can't even get him out of bed.

So when one of those days happens, you sit near him and read him something that you both liked, that's how you used to spend the afternoons when there was nothing else to do. These were moments that you both treasured.

but at the same time he loves you like a demon, not like a human.

and normalizes any unhealthy attitude he has towards you as you grow up, you grew up thinking that all of that was NORMAL.

apart from the fact that he substantiated all these habits with half-truths and using his own love for you against you.

You know he loves you very much, si for him is easy to fool you (in the begging) to believe he would never do something that would hurt you BULLSHIT

Do you remember when he was more expressive when he cornered Yukio? I can see him doing something similar with you, being more emotional and expressive in order to manipulate you and get his point across.

not go out under any circumstances? The world is a screwed up place with wars and death everywhere, he doesn't want you to die, hun, you need to understand him.

not have privacy? Do you have something to hide from your FATHER? The demon who loves you most in the world and who would sacrifice everything and everyone for you? DO YOU HIDE THINGS FROM HIM? Either way it is impossible with the Illuminati's on every corner. Don't even try.

He is a master of emotional manipulation, but it is also partly because he himself is a little delusional, he believes he is right.

If you end his illness, he will be EVEN MORE obsessive and overprotective (is that possible??), I'm talking about CAMERAS IN YOUR ROOM TO "MONITOR YOU", not EVEN having a door as such, but a glass one, and he can STILL see Lucifer SICKER than in canon because it would make many resources meant to cure HIM go to you.

Even if you only have a weak body, at the slightest discomfort Lucifer acts as if you are going to die. it is not a joke. And besides, he would make you very afraid that the outside would only worsen your condition until you ended up like him.

He makes you a hypochondriac, basically.

At the same time, I don't think you'll start seeing your father's giant Red Flags until you start interacting more with the outside world or with people other than him but tolerate them (eg, Shima).

It's JUST THERE that you start to question everything. almost an emotional breakdown, because it means that there is a whole ENTIRE WORLD that you could have seen, A completely different and NEW LIFE but your father took that option away from you.

That same insensitive and seemingly cruel person is the same person who has loved you from the beginning and who believes that he does everything to protect you.

Do you see what I'm going for? He has a lot of control over you, even if you realize what a shitty parent and person he is, he makes you justify it based on your "good experience" being raised by him.

but I honestly don't think you could wake up from the "good dad" (or minimally decent) trance until the incident with Shima and Izumo.

NOW, I can honestly see Lucifer using Mrs. Kamiki as an example of "what would happen" if you were to get out of his sight (aka DISOBEY HIM), I can see Lucifer in general using others as cruel examples of what could happen. or pass you.

punishments never fall on you. but in other people so that you understand that, this is the consequence of your actions, YOU are to blame for this, YOU caused it because after all Lucifer would never harm you...

In this type of scenario, if you don't give up in, what he calls, the "revelde phase", he will simply continue bombarding you with horrible images or alien deaths until he breaks your spirit, but it won't hurt you one bit, you should be grateful for it. knowing what he can do...

(It's like he doesn't understand that not hurting you automatically doesn't make him a better father or more worthy of forgiveness, but hey, he's a Lucifer Yandere).

If he manages to mentally break you or you give up before then, he's the first to go hug you and comfort you in his characteristic clumsy and rigid way, but it's mostly because he doesn't quite know how to express how relieved he is that "you've come to your senses" and that you two can return to "normal"

But in general, Lucifer tries to remain very patient with you. You can insult him, try to hurt him, it doesn't matter, take out your anger however you need, you won't be leaving his sight any time soon.

He tries to make me see things "his way", explain himself, but the truth is you don't listen to him anymore...why should you? after all he doesn't do it when you CLEARLY want to LEAVE.

He would continue to keep you inside the Illuminati base, but he is not above using more drastic isolation methods to avoid an escape scenario (which he may not believe is possible because now you are always accompanied by a member of the CULT Illuminati's to keep an eye on you. or keep you company).

Something that remains is that when he is very sick, whether out of habit, Stockholm syndrome, or pity for him, you go and read him a story, not as happy and lively as before, but in a way it gives him a new sense of hope to Lucifer.

Maybe he can make you love again like before, to have those moments again where both of you were good. He wants to have hope...

the hope that they can fix everything once the plan is put into motion, that he can FIX YOU somehow. be happy again...

but until then, he KNOWS he can't afford to lose you, even if you hate him, if you fear him, it doesn't matter right now. just don't leave him...

Shares, reblogs, and comments are very welcome!

Thanks for the Request ❤️❤️❤️

[buffkitties]

"their actual dynamic is very interesting and actually pretty similar to regular Komahina"

What do you mean by that?

It means exactly what it looks like.

There are many timelines and scenarios in which Hinata and Komaeda stick together as remnants that would fit their characters and would honestly make more sense than them being apart or barely interacting.

Anyway, first, you have to look at their actual characters and what they're like. They're both observers, in a way. As remnants, neither of them truly caused that much harm, and they both most likely just found themselves in the wrong places at the wrong times.

Komaeda was definitely docile, unlike the other remnants, and he wouldn't kill or harm anybody unless he really needed to. Any real damage would be done by his luck or indirectly brought by him pulling the strings for something. Acting otherwise would be against his character, anyway, since everything he does is for a reason.

Kamukura was in a similar boat, living during the tragedy as nothing more than an observer. He wouldn't harm or kill anybody unless it was necessary, either, and most likely avoided pointless things like that to carry out what he was meant to do and survive since the world wasn't safe for anybody.

Anyway, as servant, Komaeda would rather stay alive than die, which was definitely why he searched safety in Towa City in the first place. If you take a good look at his character, he yearns for self-sacrifice, not out of desire to die, but rather to die a death that means something. As a whole, Komaeda constantly talks about death in a really important way (people say that he talks about it like it's nothing, but that's simply not true), because he, himself, can not avoid death. As many of us know, Komaeda is sick. His life was always going to end sooner than it should ever have since he enrolled in the academy.

Realistically speaking, dying from a disease is a meaningless death:

1. His death will be for nothing; a hopeless outcome, holding nothing but grief and suffering.

2. He will die alone because he has nobody. No family, friends, you get it.

That is a scenario he would rather avoid, which is why he was okay with dying by getting murdered and honestly, much preferred. In the stimulation, he started the killing game because at least ONE person getting to leave would be better than all of them being stuck there, which was hopeless because if we're being honest, one is better than zero. In that scenario, if he was murdered, his death would not only mean something and serve hope—at least one person getting to leave—but he wouldn't be alone in his last moments because he would work with the killer and get murdered by them. Another is chapter 4, when everybody suggested they would rather starve than kill, he was uncomfortable with that fact because at least one of them living would be better. If you approached him for a free time, he even suggested that they could cannibalise him if they needed to, because again, logically, the good his death would bring severely outweighs the fact he'd die, and his death would serve something good (they wouldn't starve to death).

During the tragedy, there was no way he could die without it being meaningless, and despite being brainwashed and his beliefs getting messed up by despair, they are still rooting very deep and he would rather stay alive because his death, just like everybody else's, would be for nothing, but to simply die. Horrible scenario. Also, I believe that in UDG, he hasn't mentioned self-sacrifice once (correct me if I'm wrong).

I believe that this is a case in which he would talk about talent, despair, and hope often. He wouldn't mention it in every sentence, but any conversation COULD turn into that with a wrong turn. Komaeda only talks about them when he's stressed or nervous, and the more disturbed he feels, the more he talks about them. The tragedy was a very traumatic time, and he would undoubtedly spiral into this kind of talk often. In fact, I think nobody would be able to tell that he was a remnant until he started speaking or he was recognised by somebody, because he was really disturbed at the time, and Komaeda is unfiltered and he would voice what goes through his mind. He would most likely speak non-sense a lot, too, often contradicting himself or saying things he would never say, and he would lack self-awareness unless somebody pointed out that he was incoherent and he got confused and began questioning his own words (good example for that is actually chapter 0 of Sdr2, when he talks to Kamukura on the ship)

Kamukura, or rather Hinata, was a wanderer and observer who didn't do anything during the tragedy except for when Junko Enoshima was using him for her plans. Cursed with frustrating understimulation and lack of interest and entertainment in things around him, he allowed himself to be manipulated to get out of an empty room that was basically a cell for him, to feel something. Even if he knew he was being manipulated, he would be used one way or another, if not by her, then by the school or someone entirelt else, and Enoshima's offer seemed much better, at least at the time.

People constantly portray Hinata during those times as emotionless, but he has emotions. They're just severely stunted, and any time he feels something, it passes very fast because he already knows what to expect and can predict almost everything.

I'm too lazy to dig deeper into their characters AGAIN because it should be obvious at this point, but all I'm saying is if you look into them, it'll make sense. These are just small summaries to kinda give you an idea I suppose

Moving on, when it comes to them together, people always give them a bedroom dynamic, and it really annoys me. In reality, they're more likely to simply travel together because it would benefit both of them and give them a better chance at survival or reaching their goals, whatever they would be. They would still feel a draw and trust, and that's because they're connected as characters in general, and one could not exist without the other, so they could never avoid each other, not even then.

Their traits are also very similar. For example, both of them are blunt and docile, and both of them serve a purpose only when it comes to other people. They have other very interesting traits, too, such as that Komaeda would be overly expressive and emotional. Meanwhile, Kamukura would be the complete opposite. Both of them are pretty stubborn, etc.

I think they would find each other's company pleasant, and they wouldn't mind staying together since they wouldn't be bothersome to each other at all. I think there are many cases where Kamukura would keep him safe, too, for many reasons.

Anyway... Hinata and Komaeda are still two sides of the same coin, and they wouldn't be able to stay away from each other, despair or no despair. That part of their dynamic will always remain. When I say that it's pretty similar to regular Komahina, I mean exactly that.

Their dynamic is interesting because their original characters kind of get thrown out, I guess, and they're forced into an environment where they can not act like they usually would because the world doomed them, yet they still mirror each other and have these weirds things linking them and stand out from the rest.

It's honestly more surprising that they were separated in the canon timeline or that they didn't meet before the Kamukura thing, rather than if they were together during the tragedy. I feel like they got seriously lazy writing the anime and UDG

[cosmicjoke]

One tactic that some Eren fan once tried to argue to me, in trying to defend Eren's actions, is that Isayama, halfway through his story, suddenly decided that fighting back was "bad", and that's the cause of Eren's supposedly sudden shift in character at the end of the story. This person basically tried to blame it on Isayama changing his mind about the themes of AoT and, thus, on bad writing. They couldn't just accept that that was who Eren was all along; a whiny, selfish child that put himself and his desires above everyone else. Eren isn't bad because he was "fighting back", he's bad because he used the justifiable cause of self-defense as an excuse to commit horrific atrocities, when the real reason behind his actions was a childish inability to accept the way things were. It's why Eren's murder of the two sex traffickers who had kidnapped Mikasa was, on its face, justifiable, but the real reason behind Eren's actions wasn't. He did it because he was bored and enjoyed it. He could have waited for his father to get the authorities, but he didn't. And he didn't because he wanted to do what he did. He wanted to commit murder. It wasn't self-defense, it was self-indulgence.

Isayama never condemned the concept of self-defense or fighting back, and I think anyone who thinks he did wasn't paying any kind of attention to what they were reading/watching, and they aren't giving AoT enough credit for its nuance and sophistication.

The thing about AoT is that it doesn't present or force any sort of black and white moralistic world view on the reader/viewer. I talk about this with Levi a lot, how Levi is really representative of how morality isn't a static concept. How it varies and depends on the circumstances. He's a good man, the kindest, most compassionate man, that does quote on quote "bad things". Bad things within the context of normal society. But context always matters, and violence and killing isn't always wrong, even as it's always tragic. Jean, for example, very harshly criticizes Levi for killing people, only to be placed shortly thereafter in a position of having to kill in order to defend both himself and the lives of others; and when he falters and fails to do so, it's Armin who's forced to take that burden upon himself. We see in that moment how Jean's static morality and stubborn world view caused great harm to one of his friends, because he was more interested in preserving that static idea of morality and, thus, his own self-comfort, than he was in protecting his comrades. Jean's unmoving morality costs Armin dearly. Jean, in that moment, was extremely selfish.

And yet Levi later says to Jean that he doesn't know what's wrong or right, and he doesn't condemn Jean for his inaction, but simply states a fact; that Armin saved his and others lives by taking action in his place. Isayama's themes are never so basic or self-righteous as to present a definite answer on moral questions. He never tries to convey any kind of black and white world view. Rather, he presents the complexity of morality, and it's ever shifting conditions, while also showing us the oft tragic outcome of violence, even when that violence is justified or necessary.

Eren's actions weren't actions taken in self-defense or defense of others, they weren't necessary to his or anyone else' survival, and so they can't be defended and aren't justifiable. But Eren was given the power he was in an attempt at self-defense. Because a group of people was being persecuted and punished for things they weren't responsible for. That act of giving Eren power is justifiable. And that's the tragedy. Of having to rely on a bad person like Eren in a desperate attempt to survive. Just like Armin's emotional distress at having to kill in order to save Jean was a tragedy. Armin was justified, but it didn't stop him from being damaged by the event. It's not the self-defense itself that's wrong, but the fact of people being placed in a position of having to defend themselves at all, and all the many consequences of that, including the trauma is causes, both to ourselves and others, the sometimes ugly things it forces us to, and the cyclical, inescapable nature of it, that's tragic.

So it's not about questions of right and wrong, good or bad. Really, AoT is more a study on the tragedy of human nature and of nature itself. The world is cruel but beautiful, as Mikasa says. It's designed this way, and we're designed this way, and that's the way it will always be. Kill or be killed. Nature itself is predicated on that truth.

[cozymoko]

Long time DL fan here! It's always a pleasure to read your headcanons because the characterization of the boys is so on point. How would the reckless and social little sister fare with the Mukamis as her brothers? Part of me thinks she'd have more freedom with them than with the Sakamakis but of course Ruki is controlling and protective of his siblings even under normal circumstances and both he and Kou are possessive af so...maybe not?

Thank you for all your hard work <3

RECKLESS, OVERLY SOCIAL LITTLE SISTER

Note: I love you. I love you. I love you! Thank you for reading and I completely agree with that so let's get to it! Enjoy. ♡

Synopsis: This scenario “reckless, overly social little sister ” but Mukami version.

Pairing: platonic Mukami brothers x gn! Sibling reader (feminine pronouns used)

Format: Headcanons

WARNING(S): none

Want more Diabolik lovers? → Masterlist! ★

RUKI MUKAMI

Though not overbearing he is quite strict. Conceivably a bit more than he is to his brothers. As the youngest and only sister in the Mukami household, Ruki finds his behavior to be simply out of love. You are young and impressionable, and he will not allow someone to take advantage of that.

You being overly social was not the most ideal outcome, but he can't complain. It could be worse. Although that doesn't mean, Ruki won't watch your interactions very closely. If you were a bit older, perhaps he'd let lose a little more. Until then your stick with his incessant nagging that every Mukami seemed to have some experience with.

“As long as you follow the rules, I have no qualms with it. However try not to stray too far from my sight, it seems your little endeavors can get a little...me ssy.”

KOU MUKAMI

The two of you are the same, adventure-wise. Kou would take you anywhere you want if you ask him to. But if you steer too far from him, he might be a bit skeptical. Ugh, just the thought of losing you in a crowd is absolutely petrifying! Don't expect him to let you go in any forests or lakes, you're too cute to risk getting injured in any way and it would kill him to see your face with even the tiniest blemish.

Now your chatty side is a different story. Being an idol demands Kou to be social with his peers. But you're not an idol; you're his sweet little sister that should know better than to talk to just anybody. This world is infested with liars and snakes, so it's his job to protect you from them. After all, he can see what others cannot.

“Hm, I'm a little sad. It's almost like my precious baby is growing distant from me~! Is it true, please say it's not!”

YUMA MUKAMI

Everyone has hobbies but Yuma finds yours to be rather concerning, which he reminds you of every single day. And like any "normal" brother he forces you to work long hours with him in his garden in hopes to mellow you out. But of course, it doesn't work so he settles for tagging along with you.

Yuma is the least worried about you making new friends. He taught you how to defend yourself and you being immortal is also a plus. But that doesn't mean he won't beat some ass if they hurt you or your feelings. All in all, as long as you were safe I suppose he won't question you too much.

“What're ya' doin'? Beat their asses already! Tsk, who taught ya' to act so god damn docile? Next time listen to me, will ya'!”

AZUSA MUKAMI

The most supportive brother award goes to Azusa Mukami! No, but seriously, he is your biggest hype man. Amongst the others, he is the most eager to greet you upon your return, not only because he missed you but out of curiosity as well. Though Azusa has no interest in venturing beyond the manor as you do, he still finds attraction in the stories you bring with you.

For someone so into pain he hates seeing you hurt, emotionally at that. Not everyone is as kind as others so you're bound to have a few shitty interactions. And like any other person, it turns your sweet expression sour. It pains him that he can't do much about it but he'll do his very best to take your mind off of it!

“Welcome home, did you have fu...n? Aah, that makes me so happy. Come....tell me more, Ive miss...ed you very much.”

[dreamperfectarchives]

Sweet Silence

Summary: Dabin makes a bet with his friends without thinking about the consequences and gets into trouble.

Or boys will be boys, Ugh.

Bet!AU | M.List | Word Count: 1.6k

DPR Live x Reader: Angst, fluff, miscommunication, your friends with other khh artists. drama. arguments, men are dumb!

A/N sorry, it's on the shorter side but please enjoy!

How it started;

"If you accept this bet, y/n might not speak to you ever again."

Dabin rolled his eyes.

"He knew you better than anyone, and he believed that you wouldn't break up with him over a bet. Especially since he would explain everything in detail once the bet was over and he had won, proving those guys wrong.

“Okay, you have three days to complete this whole game, so that means no sleeping and no texting your girlfriend,” Ian smirked as he explained the rules to Dabin. “We’ll come into your flat to make sure you’re fed and hydrated, so you don’t die.”

Your boyfriend had a smile on his face, feeling thrilled at the idea of proving his friends wrong and winning the bet. However, he got too caught up in the excitement and forgot to inform you beforehand that he would be gone for three days while the dare was taking place.

“Bring it on, guys!”

He didn’t think that the outcome, in the end, would be so… terrifying. 

How it went; 

“You know what’s weird?” you said as you grabbed a drink out of your fridge. “I haven’t heard from Dabin since last night.” 

Hoody sat comfortably on the floor, intently flipping through the pages of a fashion magazine. Meanwhile, Sohee carefully painted her nails with a deep and rich shade of red.

“He’s probably just hanging out with the guys,” one of them answered. 

The other simply hummed in agreement. 

"Oh, that's a nice colour," you complimented Sohee before sitting next to her on the couch, being careful not to disturb her. "You're probably right, but, weirdly, he's taking so long to text me." 

Hoody closed her magazine over, before grabbing her drink off the coffee table, “you know what you need?” She suggested after taking a sip. “A girls night with us! We can invite Lee Hi and DeVita too.” 

You let out a sigh, the idea did sound like fun. It had been a while since you all hung out together and had a good time. Besides, maybe Dabin needed a break with his friends, just like you needed one with yours.

“Okay,” you agreed. “Let’s do it, but we’re staying in.”

Sohee laughed as she closed the nail polish bottle, “we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The evening was a relaxing and enjoyable one, filled with laughter, good company, and indulgences like wine, face masks, and friendly chatter about relationships. We rearranged the furniture to create a cosy space on the floor, where we could lounge on blankets and pillows and fully unwind.

The thought of your boyfriend not messaging you all day, even after you texted him to ask how he was, was unsettling. It was unlike him to go this long without responding, even when he was with his friends. It just didn't make sense to you.

Was he mad at you? Did you do something wrong? 

A sigh escaped your lips as you finished your drink. Hoody was the only one who stayed after everyone went home. It had been a lovely night, full of laughter and endless fun, but now you were getting annoyed.

You sent another text.

An hour later, still no response.

It was almost 3 am and Hoody was sitting on the couch, scrolling through channels, hoping to find something interesting to watch on TV. As time passed, you seemed to become more and more irritated, letting out a sigh which Hoody took as a sign to turn off the TV and encourage you to go to bed.

While watching Hoody remove her makeup, you asked, "Do you think he's breaking up with me?" as you sat on the edge of the bathtub.

“That boy is completely in love with you,” she scolded, looking at you through the mirror. “Don’t be stupid.”

You laughed at the scowl on her face, “Sorry, it’s just unlike him, you know?”

She nodded. “If he doesn’t text or call you tomorrow, you can be as angry as you want, and I’ll be just as angry with you. Deal?”

“Deal!”

->

After Dabin failed to message or call the next day, you and Hoody sulked and complained about inconsiderate men. She was just as angry as you, she’d promised she would be the night before, you were so thankful for having a friend like her. 

“How can you go two days without messaging the love of your life?” She shouted, throwing popcorn at the TV as the protagonists kissed in the rain. “I’m so pissed off right now.”

You laughed at her sudden outburst, “It’s okay, I've decided to give him the silent treatment until he apologises.”

Hoody seemed to like your idea, and let you know she was only a call away if you needed her before she left as she had work the next day. 

Now, it was just you and your thoughts. 

The day had passed by quickly, as it always did when you were hanging out with your friends. However, now you’d found yourself unsure of what to do. You couldn't even talk to Dabin, as he wasn't talking to you in the first place. Besides, you didn't want to speak to him until he apologised. 

A sigh parted your lips as you stared at the multiple messages you’d sent the night before, how annoying, you thought. 

You started typing out a message, fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard as you let your thoughts pour out, you wanted him to know how he made you feel and what you were going to do about it before muting his messages and tossing your phone to the side. 

On the other hand:

Dabin was clueless about the impact of his actions on your feelings. He was engrossed in his video games and consuming the food that his buddies had brought for him. He convinced himself that he only had to endure one more day, and then he would see you and clarify how he had won the bet.

However, the happiness he had been feeling vanished as quickly as it had come when he saw your recent message. The message read, 'I'm not sure why you're not talking to me, but I know I haven't done anything wrong to deserve this. If this is your way of breaking up with me, then so be it. But at least say something instead of going cold.'

As he tried to call you, the call went straight through to voicemail, and his heart fell through his stomach. You thought he was breaking up with you, and he was now panicking. He couldn't bear the thought of never speaking to you again, and he realised that Ian was right.

This bet was not a good idea. 

He moved quickly, leaving a mess behind as he shoved his shoes on and grabbed his keys to make his way over to your place. The bet wasn't worth winning if it meant losing you. This whole situation was stupid to begin with. 

He arrived at your apartment just before midnight, panting heavily as he knocked on the door, praying for you to answer.

When you opened the door, you appeared annoyed. Your expression grew even more irritated when you saw him standing there. He watched as you crossed your arms and visibly became smaller under your glare.

“What do you want?” You argued. 

He quickly entered the room and closed the door behind him, saying, "I'm here to apologise. It's not what you think."

You stepped back as he tried to reach out to you. "What is it then?" you asked.

“It was a stupid bet–”

"Excuse me, what?!" you interrupted, feeling angrier. 

"It was Ian's idea. He provoked me by saying that I couldn't go three days without texting you or sleeping, and I wanted to prove him wrong," he rambled. "I know it was stupid, and I'm so sorry for putting you through this."

"I can't believe this! Did you really put me through all of this emotional turmoil just for a bet?" You unfolded your arms and settled your hands on your hips, staring at your partner in disbelief. You let out a deep sigh and collapsed onto the couch, feeling defeated. "I honestly thought you were going to break up with me."

Dabin knelt in front of you, taking your hands into his. He kissed the back of each hand and gazed deeply into your eyes. "I am so sorry for what I did," he spoke in a soft tone. "But I promise you, I'm not breaking up with you. Ever! I want to marry you one day. I'm so in love with you."

He could tell you were still upset with him, but the faint smile appearing on your lips told him that the two of you were going to be okay.

“You’ve got a lot of making up to do,” you told him to which he nodded in agreement. “Also, Ian is in a lot, and I mean, a lot of trouble.” 

Dabin laughed at the mischievous grin on your face before jumping onto the couch next to you and pulling you into his arms, “god, I missed you.”

How it ended:

“So, you failed,” Ian smirked.

Dabin shrugged as you walked into the room where he and Ian were sitting, then smiled at you.

“Ian, you are in a lot of trouble,” you said, watching the smirk fall off his lips. “I’m not sure why you’re sitting there so smugly.”

Ian appeared visibly frightened as he contemplated the severity of his situation.

Let's just say your friends had a lot to say.