#this post brought to you by this evening's realization of

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 MAYBE I JUST WANNA BE YOURS

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai does not get jealous. he especially doesn't get jealous over someone he's not even dating. because he's not dating you. he doesn't want to date you... right?

(wordcount: 5k; fem!reader, nsfw, lots of smut LOL idk what got into me this is the first fic ive written with more smut than plot in ages. but anyway: jealous!dazai, fingering, oral (f->m), semi-public/public sex. whiplash from dazai's thoughts (as always). unedited.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: hihi. SO this actually wasn't going to be connected to anything, but i decided like mid-fic that i wanted to make it a continuation to the adareader universe ive been considering building. i was too lazy to go check for inconsistencies, so if there's any dihfausihdfsudf just ignore them LOL. when i eventually make the masterlist for it and officially connect them all, ill go thru and double check for them. first i need to write them something with actual substance and not just horny posting LOLLLL.

Dazai is not a jealous man.

He’s not.

In fact, he’s the most un-jealous person in the whole world. He has no reason to be jealous, especially over you. He’s not dating you. Dazai never asked you to be his girlfriend, and that was intentional because Dazai doesn’t want a girlfriend. More specifically, he doesn’t want to be someone’s boyfriend. You’re just a friend—a friend that he sometimes fucks and occasionally seeks out to spend time with. He doesn’t want someone relying on him in a way a girlfriend would, and he certainly doesn’t want to rely on someone in the way a boyfriend would, because he doesn’t want the rug pulled out from under him when it inevitably goes to shit. 

The thought is suffocating, it makes his skin crawl.

Almost as much as the realization that the cop the two of you are assigned to be coordinating with is clearly head over heels enamored by you. Dazai scowls from where he’s standing a few steps behind you, watching as you go over the details of the file that the man brought to you—Dazai didn’t care to learn his name. And yes, Dazai means you because when the officer came over with the file, he didn’t even acknowledge Dazai’s existence and walked right over to you.

He still hasn’t acknowledged Dazai’s presence, staring at you with an adoring expression as you read through the file. Dazai thinks if this were some sort of cartoon, the officer would quite literally have hearts in his eyes—it’s disgusting, Dazai can hardly stand to watch it.

“Dazai,” you finally say, voice a soft hum. He likes the way you say his name—it rolls off your tongue prettily, and it makes his chest oddly warm. He’s not used to people saying his name with such softness; he’s used to anger, irritation, fear, but never this. He’s wondered how his given name would sound, he’s spent many nights imagining it, one hand pressed to his mouth and the other wrapped around his cock, but he hasn’t worked up the nerve to ask you to call him by it. That’s a step too close to actual intimacy and he’s not willing to take it.

You raise your eyebrows at him, and Dazai realizes you must have said something after you said his name, but he didn’t catch it because he was too absorbed in the way you said his name to notice.

“Come here,” you say again, nodding your head for him to drag himself out of the corner he’s sulking in to come to you. He feels a bit too gleeful watching the way the officer’s expression shifts in surprise as he turns to look at Dazai, finally noticing him.

Dazai pushes himself off of the wall to take a few steps closer to you, and he may or may not stand a bit too close on purpose just to see the other man frown. He stands behind you, chest brushing your back as he looks over your shoulder to scan through the file you’ve been reading. It takes him twice as long as it usually does because he didn’t realize that being in such close proximity to you would make him as dizzy as it did, and he’s too stubborn to back off now. 

Your hair smells like vanilla, and Dazai can smell the faint scent of your favorite perfume dabbed on your neck, worn off throughout the long day. His attention strays from the file to you, tracing the smooth curve of your neck, dipping down to your collarbone and swallowing when he realizes that the top three buttons of your dress shirt are undone, the stuffiness of the tiny room and the lack of air conditioning causing small, visible beads of sweat to form on your skin. His breath catches as his gaze lowers just a bit more and-

You turn to look at him and his gaze snaps up before it can drop to dangerous territories, and Dazai catches the amused look in your eyes—you know exactly what he was looking at. Instead of having some shame, because Dazai has no shame, he shifts just an inch closer to you, one of his hands resting on your hip. He watches the way your lashes flutter the same way they always do when you’re trying to pretend you’re not affected by his touch, and his lips curl up into a small smirk.

“What do you think?” you ask after a second. 

To your credit, your voice isn’t as strained as he expected, so Dazai ups it a notch, fingers sliding from where they’re caressing your hip to trail across your inner thigh. All out of sight from the officer on your left, but Dazai can tell he’s aware that something is going on from the way his enamored expression starts shifting into a more awkward one.

Dazai gives him a smug, sardonic smile before saying, “I think our friend over here should go get us the CCTV tapes—that’ll be much more useful to us then a bunch of reports.”

The other man’s face shifts in confusion, brows furrowing and lips curving down, but before he can say no, you speak up and agree, “That would be great.”

Dazai rolls his eyes when it makes the man straighten and nod, “I’ll get it right away.”

Before he steps out of the room, Dazai tosses another look over his shoulder, this one colder than it is smug, and he says maybe a bit too snidely, “Don’t come back until you have them.”

The officer doesn’t reply as he leaves the room, and as soon as the door clicks shut, Dazai is pulling away from you to walk over to it. He locks it quickly and then turns to face you, tilting his head to the side as his gaze roves over your body. You’re leaning back against the table, eyebrows raised, and Dazai doesn’t stop himself this time when his gaze lowers to the swell of your breasts just barely made visible by your partially unbuttoned shirt.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, motioning for you to come over to him.

You don’t budge. Instead, you raise your eyebrows and say dryly, “There are cameras in here, Dazai.”

He pointedly looks up to the two corners of the room that they’re in and then back down to where he’s standing, silently telling you that this is a blind spot. After a moment’s hesitation, you push yourself off the table and make your way over to him. Dazai tilts his head back against the wall, looking down at you through his lashes as you come to stand directly in front of him. He pretends that his throat doesn’t bob when he feels your fingers slip into his belt loops.

“What’s gotten into you?” you ask, but your eyes are glittering so he knows you know exactly what the problem is—and to think he thought you weren’t cruel, you might just be the worst type of cruel there is, hiding it behind pretty smiles and sweet words. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous because that cop has a crush.”

“I don’t get jealous,” Dazai replies with a simpering smile, lifting one hand to cradle your cheek, breath catching as your eyes flutter shut, pressing your face into his hand. “I just didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Dazai thinks that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen—he’s thought it since the day he met you, but he thinks it especially now when you’re leaning into his touch like it isn’t poisonous, like his hands aren’t stained with blood and his soul isn’t black and rotten. You deserve better than him, and that’s another reason why he refuses to take that next step: he knows one day you’ll realize it too. You’ll realize that you’ve fallen for a mask, that the man you care about doesn’t actually exist, it’s a thing that can barely call itself human pretending to be him.

He wonders if you know. He wonders if you know that something is wrong with him—he thinks that you must have some inkling after the bout of paranoia he had a few weeks ago when he was at your apartment, but he doubts you know the extent of it. He doubts you know that thoughts running through his head whenever that officer looked at you were anything but just casual jealousy; that every time he leaned in closer to you, Dazai’s fingers twitched in the direction of the gun given to him by the Agency that he’s only supposed to use in emergencies. 

Old habits die hard, Dazai has always been quite trigger happy. They never should’ve put a gun in his general vicinity.

 He leans down to ghost his lips below your ear, savoring in the way he feels you take in a sharp breath. His fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls your head back just enough to kiss the spot beneath your jaw that makes you writhe, and just as he expects, you let out a breathy moan against his ear that makes his head dizzy, your hands darting up to cling at the sleeves of his jacket.

“Dazai,” you gasp as he kisses down your neck. He hums in response, his free hand resting on your waist as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Are you sure…”

“I’m sure,” he says, and then adds smugly, “When am I ever wrong?”

He doesn’t have to see your face to know that you’re probably rolling your eyes at him, but he doesn’t give you the chance to make a witty remark about the first time the two of you met. His grip tightens on your waist as he flips you around so that your back is to his chest.

His hands immediately work to unbutton your slacks, lips finding their way back to your neck to pepper kisses up and down your skin as he watches the rapid rise and fall of your chest. He lets out a low groan against your skin when he slides his hand into your pants and feels just how damp your panties are.

“This better be for me,” he mutters more to himself than to you, nipping at the skin of your neck. His voice is a bit more rough now as he asks you, “Lace?”

He lifts his face from your neck to look at you. Your eyes are half lidded as the pads of his fingers trace the cloth of your panties, head lolled back against his shoulder, breath ragged and lips parted, but there’s something teasing in your gaze as it flickers up to meet his.

“The ones you like,” you breathe out, and Dazai swallows thickly. “I was gonna see if you wanted to come over after this.” 

“Shit,” he whispers, putting pressure right over where your clit is hidden, watching the way your thighs tremble. “Look at you, only I make you feel this good, yeah?”

“Don’t tease.” The whine that clings to your words makes Dazai’s head spin. He can already feel his cock straining against his pants and tries to ease some of the friction by pressing you back into him, rolling his hips against your ass. “Dazai-”

“Shhhh,” Dazai soothes with a grin, kissing up your neck to your ear when he hears the distress in your tone. “I’ve got you.” 

With practiced ease, he slides his fingers beneath your panties, middle finger dipping between your folds. He inhales sharply, immediately losing his grin when he feels how wet you are.

“This better be for me,” he repeats, a bit more seriously this time as he slides his finger between your folds, putting pressure on your entrance but not quite pushing in. “Hm?”

He waits for a response, relishing in the way your whole body trembles against him. He doesn’t even know if you know what he asked, you already seem so fucked out—lips wet and parted as you breathe in and out shakily, lashes fluttering and chest heaving.

“Tell me,” he presses, his free hand sliding up your body, untucking your shirt so he can slip his hand beneath it to feel your skin.

“‘course it’s for you, Dazai,” you say after a few seconds of confusion, like you were trying to remember what he asked. “What kind of question is that?” 

Dazai doesn’t respond to that, letting out a pleased hum as he kisses your jaw again. He also doesn’t give you the chance to say anything else, quickly plunging his middle finger deep inside of you. The sudden intrusion has your hand flying to your mouth to muffle the cry that escapes your lips—he almost wants to pull your hand away, but decides against it because he doesn’t want anyone else hearing you like this.

You try to rock your hips to get him moving, but Dazai’s hand flattens against your stomach, holding you still against him.

“Dazai-” you gasp his name again, this time your voice is more pitched, caught between a whine and a complaint.

“Patience,” he coos, but his voice is strained and his breath is heavier as your tight walls hug his finger, imagining that it’s his cock instead. He drags his finger out until only the tip remains inside of you. He teases your entrance again, tracing a gentle circle but not pushing back in. “Bet you could already take two fingers for me, yeah?”

“What if he comes back?” you suddenly ask panic flying through your eyes as if you’ve only just remembered where you are. Dazai is distinctly displeased by the thought of another man crossing your mind while his fingers are inside of you. “Dazai, what if-”

“He won’t,” Dazai answers you, making his displeasure known as he nips your neck. 

“How do you-”

“The corner that the disappearance took place on—it’s a blind spot for the CCTV cameras,” he answers before you can finish. Dazai knows this because he killed a target in that exact same spot two and a half years ago. “He’ll be gone for a while. He won’t want to come back empty handed to you.” 

Dazai doesn’t give you the chance to question him anymore, sliding his middle and ring fingers inside of you and watching as your jaw falls slack. To make up for the displeasure he felt at you bringing up that irritating cop, he fucks you hard with his fingers—you barely have time to bite the palm of your hand before his fingers are stretching your walls.

He thinks he might be pushing his luck—he doesn’t know if the cameras in the corners of the room pick up sound, and if they do, he doesn’t know how well they pick it up. Even if you’re doing your very best at muffling your moans, there’s no hiding the sloppy sound of his fingers driving in and out of your cunt—it’s wet and filthy, and it has Dazai’s head dizzy. 

His eyes drag up from where his fingers are plunging in and out of you back up to your face. Your pretty eyes are almost fully rolled back as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge and your lashes are wet. One particularly rough snap of his wrist has your hand falling limp from your mouth to your side and your lips parting in a moan that Dazai doesn’t dare allow anyone else to hear. Quickly, his free hand darts up to grab your jaw hard, turning your face toward him so he can press his lips to yours messily, swallowing the keening moan before you can let it out. 

He kisses you deeply, tongue tracing the inside of your mouth gently in contrast to the rapid thrusts of his fingers. You try to kiss him back, but you can hardly even breathe with how deep his fingers fuck into you. He knows you're close—he can feel it in the way your whole body is trembling, and how your pussy flutters around his fingers, so he picks up the pace, just as desperate to bring you over the edge as you are to get there.

He’s the only one that can make you feel like this. He’s the only one that can make your body shudder and writhe, he’s the only one that can make your eyes roll back in pleasure, he’s the only one and he needs to prove it.

“C’mon, baby,” he pleads against your lips. The pet name that spills from his lips is not the teasing bella he likes to hit you with like he intended—it comes out strained, breathy, just as desperate as he feels. The lack of control scares him a bit, but he’s too out of it for it to take hold. “C’mon, once on my fingers, then as many times as you want on my cock when we get home, alright?”

He doesn’t know what you’re trying to say, the noise that spills from your lips, muffled against his mouth, is a moan, caught between his name and a please and something else he can’t make out. Distantly, he thinks that the bandages on his forearm must be ruined, he can feel your slickness dripping down his hand to his wrist and he can hear the lewd sounds of his fingers pushing in and out of you. He doesn’t care—in fact, the thought only makes his lower abdomen tighter. 

“I’m gonna-” you gasp, the only word she can make out and Dazai grins.

“Yeah, you are,” he rasps, scissoring his fingers inside of you and rubbing his index finger over your clit, and you’re gone. 

Dazai groans when he feels you moan his name against his lips, hand dropping from your face to your waist to hold you upright as your knees buckle. You cum hard on his fingers, hips stuttering and stilling, and he can feel tears spilling over your cheeks. His cock is painfully hard now and he wants nothing more than to unbuckle his pants and replace his fingers with it, but he thinks that would be pushing his luck—he’s never had any semblance of control once his cock is inside you and he needs to keep an ear out for footsteps approaching the conference room. 

He rides out your high, pace slowing as he continues to fuck his fingers into your sensitive cunt, wiping your tears with his free hand once you’ve steadied yourself. You tremble, reeling from the intensity of your orgasm, and Dazai only removes his fingers when you claw at his wrist for him to stop.

His fingers are dripping with your cum, and though Dazai is aching for a taste himself, he instead lifts them to your lips. You’re still trying to get ahold of yourself, leaning back against his chest and breathing heavily, but you instinctually part your lips for him. His breath catches when you take both of his fingers into your mouth, lashes fluttering shut and tongue swirling around his digits as you taste yourself off of him.

“Fuck,” he groans, hand dropping down to rub the heel of his hand against his cock, desperately trying to alleviate the pressure. He has no idea how he’s going to hide this before the officer gets back and…

His thoughts trail off when you finally push off of him, your legs are still trembling, and your eyes are still a little hazy, but your gaze drops from his face to his rapidly rising and falling chest down to where he’s rubbing his cock through his pants. And then, you lower yourself to your knees in front of him.

“Oh, fuck,” he repeats, voice breathy this time and pupils blown wide as he watches your fingers work at the buckle of his belt.

Dazai almost wishes that the officer would come back soon, just so he could walk in on you with a faceful of Dazai’s cock. But if that happens, all of Ango’s work will go out the window because there’s no way he’s letting someone see you like this and walk out alive. 

Dazai’s cock twitches as soon as you free it from its confines. He’s already leaking an embarrassing amount of precum, and his tip is flushed red, but you waste no time before ghosting your lips across his length, suckling gently at the vein running along the underside of his cock before wrapping your lips around his tip.

Dazai chews at his lower lip, thighs tensing as he resists the urge to thrust his hips forward and shove his cock down your throat. Instead, his throat spasms as he swallows, reaching out to cradle the back of your head gently, carding his fingers through your hair soothingly.

“Lookit you,” he breathes out, voice wavering as he swallows another low groan. His fingers tighten in your hair just a bit, but he doesn’t push your face down on his cock, head falling back against the door as you work his cock further down your throat. His breath is ragged and heavy as your tight muscles spasm around him, desperately trying to adjust to the intrusion, and he can feel your nails digging into the bandages wrapped around his hips. “That’s my girl.”

Another loss of control that should probably concern him, but you’re quick to take his mind off of it with the way he can feel you let out a whine around him, nails digging a little bit deeper into skin as you take him fully into your mouth, lips flush to his pelvis and nose buried in his pubic hair.

His head falls forward as he pants, watching your throat struggle to adjust to him. He strokes your hair gently, silently beckoning you to look up at him because he worries that if he opens his mouth to speak, he’ll let out a pornographic moan, one that will be impossible to deny if anyone over hears.

Your lashes flutter as you look up at him, eyes wide and glassy with fat tears that roll steadily over your cheeks. 

Beautiful, he thinks hazily, and his—all his. No one else gets to see you like this, no one else gets to imagine you like this—you’re his. 

He chokes over air, free hand coming up to cover his mouth and hips jerking forward. He feels you gag around him and his hand drops to caress your cheek in apology, trying to wipe away your tears, but it’s clumsy and frantic—the sight of you on your knees for him, tears streaming down you face as you take him down your throat, is enough to send him spiraling over the edge.

His vision spots with black dots, the taut cord in his abdomen tightens and then snaps. He’s hardly able to muffle the moan that spills from his lips as his eyes knock back and his head falls against the metal of the door. His whole body tenses and spasms as he cums down your throat, he gasps for air, thumb still stroking your cheek as you struggle to swallow all of his cum.

It takes a minute for Dazai to regain some semblance of control over himself. By the time he has, you’re standing on shaky legs and tucking his sensitive cock back into his pants. His hazy gaze focuses on your face—your lips are wet and swollen, your eyes are still glassy, and this time Dazai doesn’t have an excuse as he lifts his hands to cradle your face and says quietly, “Mine.”

Your smile is teasing. “‘I don’t get jealous,’” you mock lightly, leaning in to press your lips against his. Dazai’s eyes flutter shut as his hand slinks around your body to your back, pulling your body flush to his as he deepens the kiss, sinking into the familiar feeling of your lips sliding against his. 

“I don’t have reason to be jealous,” Dazai murmurs, this time with a different meaning. He pulls back slightly so he can button your pants back up and tuck your dress shirt back into them, making sure you look presentable before the officer gets back.

Instead of teasing him again, your smile softens and you affirm, “You don’t,” and Dazai’s throat tightens. 

The thought of being in an actual relationship has always been suffocating to Dazai. Imagining having to spend the rest of his life with one person, having someone rely on him when his will to live is fickle at best and nonexistent at worst, becoming dependent on someone who could leave him on a moment’s notice… It makes his stomach churn with disgust, his chest tight with anxiety.

But when that faceless someone turns into you, Dazai realizes that the thought of a relationship is not quite as unappealing as it’s always been to him. Does it still make him skittish? Sure, but does it outweigh the green hue that colors his vision whenever someone looks at you and thinks you’re not his? Does it outweigh the bolt of fear he feels whenever he sees someone display interest in you, wondering if maybe you’ll get sick of his flighty behavior and give them a chance?

Absolutely not.

Dazai hears footsteps approaching the door he’s leaning on, and quickly unlocks it, motioning for you to stand back by the conference table. When the officer opens the door, the two of you are standing there casually like you never moved.

The officer gives you an apologetic smile that makes Dazai’s eyes twitch. “It doesn’t seem like there’s any CCTV footage from the area.”

Before you can respond, Dazai smiles tightly and says, “Wow, and it took almost twenty minutes for you to realize that—no wonder the police keep coming to us for help.”

You elbow Dazai, but he’s unrepentant, giving you a sweet smile before turning a cooler one back onto the officer. “If you don’t mind, we can finish the rest back at our office tomorrow now that we have the files. We have a date to get to.”

He doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re raising your eyebrows at him, but he keeps his gaze trained on the officer, finding sick satisfaction in the way the man’s eyes dart between the two of you, a dawning expression crossing his face.

“A… date?” 

“A date,” Dazai confirms, picking up the file and motioning for you to leave. He pointedly ignores the amused expression on your face as you make your way out of the room, walking past the officer who dumbly steps out of the way. “Thanks for the help… or, well, lack thereof.”

It’s only when the door slams shut behind the two of you, do you finally echo, “… A date?”

Hesitantly, Dazai confirms, “A date?”

When you don’t immediately respond, Dazai’s smile starts to freeze, considering that maybe you don’t want to date him and he read all of this wrong. You want to keep things casual, no strings attached. But after a few agonizing moments, you hook your arm around his and lean into him.

“Where are you taking me then, hm?”

“… It’s a surprise,” he replied.

A surprise for both of you, because Dazai hasn’t thought that far ahead yet. 

A tenseness that he hadn’t even realized was in his shoulders dissipates when you laugh and press your lips to his upper arm before resting your head against it. 

“Alright,” you agree, although he’s pretty sure you know damn well this is all spur of the moment. “Let’s go then.”

Though Dazai tries to rifle through all of the options of places you like to go, when the two of you step outside, all coherent thought washes right out of the window when you turn to look up at him, the setting sun casting an ethereal glow over your face.

“What is it?” you ask when he freezes in his tracks to admire you. “Dazai?”

For just a split second, Dazai can imagine it. He can imagine a life with you, and there’s no sign of any of the suffocation or discomfort he usually feels when he thinks of long term commitment too hard. He imagines waking up to you in the morning and falling asleep to you at night, he imagines spending his days laid up in bed with you sharing kisses and sweet nothings and he imagines dragging you around the city to show you off to anyone and everyone. His thoughts start to spiral out of control, and he’s glancing down at your ring finger, wondering-

“Dazai?”

Dazai’s thoughts come to an abrupt halt, and he swallows thickly when a more realistic image comes to mind—the expression on your face when you find out about his past, the disgust, the fear, the realization that he’s just not who he made himself out to be, that he’s been lying to you since day one.

“Nothing,” he says after a moment, voice a little raspy, so he shakes his head, giving you a disarming smile and clearing his throat. “You’re just so stunning that it leaves me at a loss for words, sweet bella.”

You don’t seem to buy it, but you don’t press, arm tightening around his as you make your way back over to your car.

As soon as you look away, his expression shifts into a more downcast one as his gaze tracks back over to you. It’s only a matter of time, he remembers. His past will catch up with him sooner rather than later, and no matter what you may insist about the past being in the past, he knows everything will change when you finally realize what all he’s been hiding from you.

… but maybe there’s not too much harm in indulging while he still can. He just has to keep reminding himself that he can’t get too attached.

“You should let me drive,” Dazai says sweetly. “So I can drive us to the place and keep it a surprise for you.”

You laugh in his face. “As if.”

You usher him over to the passenger seat before making your way back over to the driver’s side, and Dazai finds a genuine smile unconsciously curling at the corners of his lips. One that quickly falls when his fingers wrap around the handle of the car door.

He thinks, maybe, it might be far too late to stop himself from getting attached.

[yesbothways]

This is so funny to me. Because I feel so confident this post is from the USA. I grew up in the midwest in an abstinence-only sex ed culture in the midst of the "True Love Waits" campaign. My parents were deeply upset that condoms and lubricants were sold in drug stores. I did not realize they were, until this was brought to my attention. People literally thought that would make teenagers and unmarried people have more sex (not safer sex), and this was evil. But this post is saying nothing about the condoms and lubricants sold in drugstores. So is the logic here that PIV sex is fine? But sex that includes toys? PEARLS CLUTCHED. Imagine from a child's perspective the sheer volume of confusing things in a drug store. That is a top shelf. Are people maybe thinking that like these look like toys and might use the literal word "toy" and make for an awkward moment with parents? I think it's going to be okay. Some grown men are going to walk through pharmacies not knowing how menstrual cycles work except in the vaguest associations. And you don't need to explain all the details of periods to your kids on the spot just because tampons and pads are sold in drug stores. You don't have to explain piles to them or even explain like "ringworm" is a fungal infection. I'm sure I still do not know what every single thing in a drug store is actually for. I genuinely think the kids are going to be okay, even if more vibrators and sleeves enter the adult world unchained and unchaperoned. Anyways, I doubt those toys are all that good... but I really hope more people have more skilled, fun, pleasurable sex, and toys are great for that. I bet my hands were literally shaking the first time I went into the store Good Vibrations with several of my college friends. It felt as if God or Uncle Sam was gonna straight up kill you in there. Turns out, it is fine. Also, on an abrupt and way more serious note, for people who genuinely worry about the sexual exploitation of children in this society, here is a highly competent organization with the mission of ending child sex abuse within five generations that I like to spread the word about as often as I can: https://transformharm.org/resource_author/generation-five/

[wickjump]

i like aus where nightmare is freed from his corruption. especially because of how it would affect those around him (in this post it’s mostly killer). because corrupted nm and passive nm are two separate people. and there is an EXTREMELY extremely small chance passive could be brought back even if it would likely kill dream in the process. I think instead of redeeming canon corrupted!nm we should have more aus where passive is freed from his corruption. cause it is possible. that is a thing.

imagine being killer working underneath nightmare when all of a sudden prince lemondrop almost burns his arm off while grabbing Some Random Guy out of your abuser’s chest. what.

and then said abuser just dies?? and this Random Guy who is the closest thing to your tormentor now is scared of you? What!!! he doesn’t want you to be around him anymore?? he literally dead of fucking ass throws up when remembering what corrupted nm did to you??? like he’s so disgusted with it that he can’t handle himself??? and you’re just sitting here???? and everyone is still fighting and nightmare is gone and you have no idea what to do next????? watching as this random fucking guy (who looks a lot like dream now that you think about it) sob his eyes out and continuously and frantically apologizing to you through tears and you’re like?????? This is not the same guy. flat out. who is this weirdo.

and then you’re just left there as you realize that the other nightmare is like. fully gone. what now. what do i do now. this guy literally controlled my life for years and in seconds he’s just gone. like it was that easy the entire time. it was just something dream could do, i fucking guess. never thought to do it earlier but whatever. where do i go. dust and horror are far gone now the moment they realized nightmare wasn’t around. you are left alone amidst the rubble and the only person you can think to go to is the guy you were abused over because you were explicitly not to go near him (this was unclear, here i mean color LMAO). fuck

COME ON PEOPLE. COME ON

[skzdelf]

Something More | Lee know

✶ PARING: Lee Minho x f!reader

✶ SYNOPSIS: A friendship born under the spring sun transforms into something deeper as two souls share quiet afternoons and passionate nights. Between everyday moments and glances full of meaning, the relationship between you and Minho evolves from complicity to undeniable desire.

✶ WARNING: Sloppy kisses; neck grabbing; jealous Minho; hot dancing

✶ WORDCOUNT: 2,2k (2209)

The silence in the living room, previously filled with the attention directed at the movie, was interrupted by constant meowing.

Sonnie, one of Minho’s cats, was lying lazily on his lap at the other end of the couch.

Dori was busy sharpening his claws on the expensive scratching post your best friend had bought a few months ago.

The one who wouldn’t stop meowing was Doongie, comfortably perched on the windowsill, gazing outside Minho’s apartment. His tail swayed slowly from side to side, as if caught between curiosity and the lazy vibe of the afternoon.

You had met Minho two years ago. It was thanks to a stray cat that your paths crossed—if credit could be given to a small feline.

It was a sunny spring day. You were strolling through the park, enjoying the warm breeze, when you spotted a kitten sleeping peacefully on a bench. Its fur was a messy mix of colors, and its calm breathing made you smile. Without hesitation, you approached to take a picture. You crouched carefully, trying not to wake it, but just as you were about to press the shutter, a smooth, deep voice broke the silence.

“Are you here to greet him too?” asked the boy with burgundy hair, leaning over the other side of the bench to pet the cat.

You were surprised by his presence, but even more so by the natural way he shared that moment. You gave him a shy smile as you tucked your camera away.

“It’s hard not to when he’s this adorable” you replied, looking at the little feline now purring under the stranger’s touch.

Minho, as you later learned his name, had a peculiar calmness about him, as though he and cats shared a special understanding. From that day on, casual encounters in the park became more frequent until, without realizing it, he became one of the most important people in your life.

“Tell him to stop, Min! I can’t hear the movie” you told Minho, tugging slightly on the blanket you both shared to get his attention.

He turned his head, looking at you lazily and relaxed, his half-lidded eyes exuding calm. A few burgundy strands fell across his forehead, nearly grazing his eyelids.

“Were you sleeping?!” you exclaimed, half-scolding. He had chosen the movie, and now he was falling asleep? You were ready to kill him.

“I was trying to rest so I could feel good tonight” he replied in his raspy, just-woken-up voice, sending a shiver through your stomach.

In a few hours, you’d be heading out to a party with your group of friends. You had brought everything you needed to get ready and planned to stay over at Minho’s place like you often did.

“Actually, you should get ready. You always take forever” he teased, letting out a sigh as his ring-adorned hands reached out to stroke Sonnie’s head.

You stood up from the plush couch and grabbed your backpack from the floor beside it. As you passed Minho, you ruffled your hand back and forth through his soft hair, messing it up.

Walking down the narrow hallway toward the bathroom, you noticed it was warmly lit by ceiling lamps.

The bathroom was spacious for an apartment, with a wide sink that could hold plenty of things—your makeup in this case. The mirror stretched across the entire length of the sink, backlit with white LED lights, perfect for selfies.

You decided to change there, pulling out your outfit for the night from your bag: a short black dress with a corset-like design on the upper part, fitted and strapless, accentuating your waist. The skirt was pleated, and you completed the look with a black belt adorned with metallic details, including a heart-shaped centerpiece.

Minho knocked on the door, and you cracked it open to peek out. You noticed he was already dressed. He wore a leather vest over a black tank top that showed off his arms and neck. A silver chain rested around his neck, giving the final touch to his look. He looked absolutely stunning, though you couldn’t admit it out loud.

He was holding Dori, who was purring contentedly in his arms. The constant hum of Dori’s purring filled the space, giving it a warm, homely vibe.

You let Minho in. He sat on the toilet lid, watching you as you moved back and forth across the bathroom counter, grabbing different makeup products.

A slight smile played on his lips. It was clear he enjoyed watching you work with such focus. You picked up a small brush and began blending the eyeshadow on your lids, carefully attending to every detail.

“I’m going to fall asleep again if you keep taking so long” Minho joked, leaning forward slightly.

You glanced at him through the mirror, amused by his comment.

“Perfection takes time. Or do you not like how it’s coming along?” you teased as you applied red lipstick to your smooth lips.

Minho shook his head, chuckling softly. In his arms, Dori continued to bask in his strokes, purring with contagious tranquility.

When you finished, you spun around to face him directly. Minho looked at you with a mix of admiration and pride.

“What do you think?” you asked, showing him the final result.

He took a moment before responding, tilting his head slightly with a broad smile.

“I think you look gorgeous, but…” He suddenly stood up, gently placing Dori on the floor. Once upright, he extended his hand toward your face, his thumb brushing lightly against the corner of your lips, as though he were handling the most delicate flower. He softly wiped away a small smudge of lipstick.

“Now you look better,” he said with a proud smile. Your poor brain couldn’t process what had just happened. While you were close friends, you’d never shared such an intimate moment.

Your heart raced in your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same.

“Now let’s go. The others are waiting for us” Minho added, giving you one last glance as he ruffled your hair—just as you had done to him earlier—before stepping through the doorway and disappearing down the hall.

The club was massive. The space was lit only by colorful lights—mostly red—and the music pounded in every corner, making it nearly impossible to hold a conversation. People danced pressed against each other, bodies moving in sync with the beat of the songs.

You and your friends were sitting in a booth, laughing as you finished the third round of drinks you’d ordered at the bar. For some of you, yourself included, the alcohol was beginning to take effect, drawing you further into the electrifying atmosphere.

“Let’s go dancing, Min” you said loud enough for Minho to hear over the music, tugging lightly on the edge of his vest to get his attention.

“Not now” Minho replied curtly, not even sparing you a glance as he continued chatting with one of his friends.

How interesting could that conversation possibly be? Why come to a club just to talk instead of dance?

Some of your friends were already on the dance floor, but you hesitated to join them. Each one seemed to have company, whether it was a boyfriend or some random guy who’d approached them with less-than-pure intentions.

Downing the rest of your drink in one go, you stood up from your seat, deciding you’d dance and enjoy yourself, even if it meant doing so alone.

Or so you thought.

Your body blended into the crowd as you moved to the rhythm of the music, swaying and bouncing effortlessly. Your hands ran through your hair, tousling it in sensual motions.

For a moment, you closed your eyes, letting the colored lights and the vibrations of the sound system envelop you completely. The dance floor was packed, yet it felt like, in that moment, only you and the music existed.

Suddenly, you felt someone behind you, a presence close enough for their warmth to pierce through the crowd. Turning slightly, you saw a tall, blonde stranger smiling mischievously at you.

Before you could react, his hands found their way to your hips in a firm but confident motion. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his playful gaze, and began moving again. He followed your lead, syncing perfectly with your rhythm.

An intimate atmosphere quickly formed between you two, growing even more intense when your hands traveled up his toned arms, eliciting a barely audible groan from him.

His dark eyes locked onto you as your movements remained enticingly provocative, sending shivers down your spine. Your bodies were so close, lips barely apart—the tension between you tangible.

“Kiss me already,” the stranger murmured breathlessly, one hand sliding from your hip to cradle your cheek as he leaned in closer to your lips.

But before that kiss could happen, a sudden hand gripped the back of your neck—not harshly, but with enough force to pull you back abruptly.

The stranger’s presence was gone in an instant, and before you could identify the owner of the hand, a pair of possessive lips crashed against yours.

The grip on your neck shifted to the side, brushing your skin gently while the other hand firmly settled on your waist, ensuring you couldn’t pull away.

Soft yet commanding lips moved against yours, desperate and hungry, drawing you into a kiss you had no intention of breaking.

The kiss deepened as tongues intertwined in a seductive dance, leaving you breathless as small gasps escaped your mouth.

Then, suddenly, the person pulled back, but only to bring their lips to your ear. Resting them against your skin, they whispered in a low, gravelly voice.

“Was this your plan all along? To make me jealous? Well, you fucking succeeded.”

Minho’s raspy voice reverberated in your head, leaving you stunned.

Pulling back slightly, you looked up at him, your eyes locking onto his. His dark gaze flitted between your face and your swollen lips, and you hadn’t expected, not even in your wildest dreams, for Minho—your best friend, the most easygoing and effortlessly attractive guy you knew—to react like this.

You certainly weren’t complaining. You were exhilarated.

“This isn’t over,” he murmured again into your ear, the hand on your waist now gently stroking up and down. “Let’s go home. What do you say, pretty?”

Minho’s apartment was dimly lit, just as you had left it. You assumed the cats were either asleep by now or had been stirred awake by the noise you two were making.

You stumbled inside, wrapped in each other’s arms, exchanging fervent kisses. Somehow, you both managed to kick off your shoes without breaking apart for even a second.

Minho shrugged off his leather vest and tossed it somewhere in the living room. His hands roamed over your body with a possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine.

You walked backward, bumping lightly into furniture scattered inconveniently in your path. Your arms encircled his neck, fingers tangling in his soft, reddish hair.

The room was filled with nothing but the sound of gasps and groans, growing louder with every touch you exchanged.

As Minho’s hands gripped your waist firmly, guiding you backward, you suddenly felt your back press against the cool surface of the wall. The contrast between the chill of the wall and the warmth of his lips now trailing down your neck made you gasp softly. His hands slid up your sides, brushing against the curve of your chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

The darkness of the apartment only heightened your senses, amplifying every touch, every sound. Minho tilted his head to meet your gaze, his pupils blown wide with desire. In that moment, it felt as if his eyes were searching for something deeper, something words could never express.

Your breaths mingled, quick and uneven, as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks. He leaned in, capturing your lips again—this time slower, more deliberate, pouring emotions into the kiss that left you breathless.

“This isn’t a game for me” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and laced with sincerity. His thumb traced a soft line along your cheek. “I need you to know that.”

You didn’t reply with words. Instead, your fingers clutched the fabric of his shirt tighter, as if anchoring yourself to him in the moment.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes briefly as though committing this moment to memory. His hands slid back down to your waist, holding you close, his touch no longer hurried but tender and grounding.

“Come here” he whispered, his tone soft and coaxing as he guided you toward the sofa. The warmth of his touch remained constant as he pulled you down beside him, keeping the intimacy alive between you.

In the quiet of the room, with only the faint hum of the city beyond the windows, words seemed unnecessary. His presence spoke volumes, the connection between you now more profound than it had ever been.

The world outside could wait; for now, there was only the two of you, no longer just friends, but something more.

✶ A/N: le dedico este fic a Kih que hace rato me había pedido un fic de Minho!! Espero te guste hermosa ;)

[rainbow-neko-artblog]

I’m asking this out of pure curiosity, in another post you said one of the reasons you don’t like the nightmare critters is because they don’t follow the design rules set by the smiling critters, exactly what do you mean by that? Like in your words what does a critter have to look like to be considered a smiling critter? I’m not trying to be rude or anything I’m just trying to understand what you mean

I dont find this rude don't worry- a lot of people don't actually notice this, but sometimes when a group of characters are designed together, in order to make them look cohesive, there are unspoken rules that may go unnoticed to viewers untrained eye, but helps keeps the characters looking like they came from the same place.

I mentioned, back when I was into Welcome Home, that they used a very special rainbow pallet that hardly ever included purple.

And when old black and white cartoons are brought up, there's specific clothing and anatomy (like pie cut eyes and hose-like limbs) that define the rules of the era.

If you want a cohesive character design, you have to pick out the rules, and then decide when breaking them would benefit the character in a way that won't break the viewers immersion.

Some of the most obvious rules I caught for the smiling critters:

- 2 color pallet.

- Simple Charms

- Tongues but NO TEETH

- Dynamic posing that speaks to their personality

Some of the critters break these rules for the benefit of diversity, but never ALL of them! Dogday is the leader, so he gets an extra color, Crafty is all white, but her CHARM is rainbow, so it balances it out. Kicken doesn't use a lot of his second color, because the LEADER is also using that color.

None of their charms get that detailed. All of them maintain the no teeth rule because that was the whole fucking point of their creepy factor- big open GAPING maws, no teeth. And all of their poses spoke to their personalities. Half of them aren't just *standing there* with a hand up for no reason, and none of them used the same pose.

Now let's compare with these rejects.

Ignoring the fact that Mob Entertainment failed to realize they didn't even post the right images for the first three nightmare critters they showed off (failing to include the iconic smiling critters line-shadow-effect)

-Simon, Maggie, Rabie, Allister and Touille break the color pallet rule, this amount needs to be lowered. To like 3 at most. Holy shit.

-Icky, Maggie, Touille, and Baba's charms are FAR to detailed, they do not need to be.

-THE TEETH OH MY GOD I HATE THE TEETH SO FUCKING MUCH you have ruined anything scary about them in one simply design choice I hope you're happy Mob entertainment.

- Touille and Allister have the same pose. Icky and Maggie have the same pose. Simon and Poe have the same pose. And NONE of them are as effective at telling their personalities as much as the smiling critters were.

Further more- even beyond rules. Icky is FUNDAMENTALY FLAWED as a design. They're ugly- not to mention we all struggled to know what the fuck he actually WAS supposed to be when he was released. It took someone pointing out that he didn't have a tail for me to realize he was one of those toxic frogs.

If you're gonna make something based on a group of characters you ALREADY made, and try to pass them off as new characters, I expect the rules to be the same. These are ugly knock offs made to sell more plushies on Mob entertainments website and I hate them with every FIBER of my being.

[crush-itis]

ྀི. ̞. ১ ✿ ㅤ𓈒 crush-itis

ㅤㅤ . ‿‿ ‿‿ ୨ ୧ ‿‿ ‿‿ .

ㅤ. 𓂂 Stardew Valley ⊹

bachelors x gn!farmer ꒱ 🎀 a date with them

ㅤㅤ. ‿‿ ‿‿ ୨ ୧ ‿‿ ‿‿ .

♥︎： My first post on Stardew Valley x reader! Romantic, mostly sfw + light suggestive themes ♡〜（ゝ。∂）

♥︎： The night is still young, and the moon had already taken it’s throne in the starry skies. While the villagers begin clicking their front doors locked, you secretly slip into Alex’s house as he told you to. He loves (salmon) dinners, especially for dates. His grandparents are already tucked in bed—snoozing—so you two have enough time to eat, converse, laugh, and hold each other. He lit candles on the dinner table, prepared a bouquet of flowers of your favourite kind, and cooked everything. Then perhaps if the two of you are finished eating, he’d suggest a few more moments of your time… taken to his bedroom. It’s a simple, provincial date, but he’ll keep this memorable day to himself.

♥︎： By the beachside where his house is near, he prepared a humble picnic for the two of you. A red, gingham blanket sits, sprawled on the warm sand, and a basket full of your favourite snacks, foods, and his are stored. He brought wine glasses (if you drink), and a couple novels of his favourite he’d think you’d like. He loves reading, so if you don’t mind, he’d blabber all about his favourite classic romantic literature, and if you happen to like reading as well, he’d possibly fall for you more. But besides that, he’d also insist on feeding you grapes or something.

♥︎： It’s late evening, and your hands are in your pockets (or bag), making sure if you have your movie tickets. Harvey bought both of your snacks, and a few of your popcorn accidentally spilt out of the checkered paper bag. You two sit next to each other in the theatres, plopping snacks into your mouth. As you watched the ads play, Harvey gently let your head rest on his shoulder, and a tentative hand slipped onto your thigh. It was hard to react since you were both out in public. Then, he just had to let his hand brush towards your inner thigh. It lingered, until he finally let go, and draped a warm arm on the back of your seat. It was quite awkward, but kind of romantic.

♥︎： You two go out in Zuzu City once again, but for a karaoke night. He’s terrible at singing, but you can’t help but fall harder for him because of how silly, and cute he is. You two share laughs while singing songs, and even pretend like the both of you are in a podcast. Sam will order a few drinks, and snacks then take a break after to soothe both your hoarse voices. The night grew, and you glanced at your phone to check the time. Suddenly, Sam abruptly pulled you into a kiss, trying to get your attention from the time. You didn’t expect that, but you soon melted into his touch, not even realizing how much time had already passed.

♥︎： You, and Sebastian also visit Zuzu City to go in the arcade, laughing about as you two step inside the dim lit, colourful building. Neon colours flashed on the games, and trendy music beamed in the hidden speakers. When your attention was quickly steered towards the claw machines with stuffed animals inside, Sebastian would help win you a few plushies of your favourite. After having your hands now full with big, fuzzy friends, you two then played the big arcade games. Everything inside was full of distractions, like the colourful lights, the loud soundtracks of the arcades, childrens’ chattering… and yet, Sebastian’s eyes were completely glued to you. He smiled softly, breathing a joke into your ear before you two continued playing with the bright red controller

♥︎： The sun was setting, and a picture of orange, pink, and yellow danced in the sky, the colours clashing together into a warm, alive painting. Shane let out a chuckle as you two plopped yourselves onto a nearby bench, licking your ice creams you both bought from the ice cream truck. You pointed out these clouds that look like puppies or kittens, and he’d watch, pretending to see whatever you’re seeing. He’d exchange a few glances at you, and your ice cream, asking if he could have a taste. With you still licking your own, you nodded, but to your surprise, he leaned in, and kissed you. He tried the creamy treat on your tastebuds with your saliva infused. It was a heady treat, and he liked that particular flavour.

ㅤㅤ. ‿‿ ‿‿ ୨ ୧ ‿‿ ‿‿ .

ׅ ׅ 𝒯hank 𝒴ou !!

[whoredyceps]

"OH LOVER BOY!" || 28 Days of Love: A Valentine's Challenge + Series

day eight: fuzzy pink handcuffs

ᰔ pairing: din djarin x reader

ᰔ summary: the mandalorian is on another bounty mission. he expects to find who he's looking for, not himself cuffed in your bed.

ᰔ author's note: i read a post by @psyzook that talked about how din is more awkward and touch-starved, and i knew when i made this list, i had to put him in the fuzzy pink handcuffs. it's like a rite of passage. also i am not a big star wars girl so please forgive any misuse of information. i did so much research, but i'll always be a trekkie at the end of the day ���😔 i tried my hardest— anything for my baby din

ᰔ content warning: 18+ // MDNI!!!! sub!din, dom!reader, oral (m!receiving) afab!reader (mention of breasts), din is is silent and awkward, premature ejaculation, fuzzy pink handcuffs

Din felt as if he had met his match when it came to you. He had seen it all, every corner of the never-ending universe threw a fastball at him. He had seen the depraved and the greedy in every form. It was hard to look towards the light when he had been face to face with darkness time and time again.

When he agreed to take a bounty job on Zeltros, he knew it would be a struggle from the start. Many who had tried to follow through with war or overtaking had failed due to the nature of the planet. Din had heard of the failing of other bounty hunters, but he was sure he was stronger than whatever temptation the others had faced.

The mission was easy enough. Find one of the wealthiest residents and return them to the Imperial Center. Din knew to not dig his helmet into business that wasn't his, but he wondered what was so important that the bounty was well beyond the standard price. Whoever's head it was must have been important if he had to bring them in alive.

Easier said than done, but the Mandalorian didn't back down. He had faced a few zeltrons in his time, and this one was no different.

You, though?

You were beyond anything he had seen in his time, in any interaction he'd had. Din was unsure if it had been the way you held yourself, or how easily you had tempted him with your sweet words.

"I believe I've heard of the head this bounty is plastered on. Please, follow me." You turned, not waiting for him to accept the invitation. Even the way your sheer red robes flourished as you ascended the front steps had Din bewitched. He followed without a word, his head ducked down as if to hide how his chest tightened.

"You could tell me the information out here," Din returned. Despite his argument, it didn't stop the way he followed you. He hoped to find the information he needed and continue on with the hunt for his bounty. He was on a mission.

"And have others listen where they're not welcome? I prefer to speak in private. As a follower of Mandalore, I'm sure you understand the importance of privacy." You glanced over your shoulder with a smirk.

"I suppose." Din left it at that. He kept a bit of distance between you. As he took in the decor, he was surprised by the lively coloring and flourish that had donned each piece of furniture.

"You mentioned this bounty had to be brought in alive. May I ask if they've provided a reason why?" You led him into the open space that was the center of your home. It was covered in warm oranges and pinks, sleek and polished in preparation for any visitor. On the walls and in display cases were various art pieces you had collected over time.

Din took notice of each item. He recognized some of the art styles, all front different sectors of space he had been in. How you had acquired some pieces, he wasn't sure. As he took in the details of your space, he realized how little he knew about you. The tip to talk to you had been an anonymous message, but it was as good a place to start as any.

"I tend to not ask unless it's imperative to the bounty." He kept a hand on the blaster on his hip. It wasn't subtle, but Din only relied on the art of subtlety when there was something at stake.

"You amuse me, Mandalorian. I hope I can be of service," you mused. You waited for a response, but there was a silence that filled the air. Din cleared his throat, and you turned to see what he was looking at.

"Ever seen anything like it?" You smirked as you moved towards the case. In the tall glass case was your most novelty possessions, some from your home planet and some from stretches beyond your sector. Even with the mask on, you felt his gaze follow your every move as you opened the glass.

At the center of a black velvet pillow was a set of cuffs. Din had seen plenty of bindings for every set of appendages on the body. From high tech to basic, they had all been similar in shape and fashion. These were unlike any he had seen; never before had he seen something so frivolous.

"No," Din finally quipped. "They look useless."

It was true. If he had tried to use pink, fuzzy handcuffs on a bounty of his, they'd laugh right in his face before they made a break for it. Not that he blamed them, considering they looked flimsy from where he stood.

"I suppose in your line of work, they would be," you chuckled. "However, I must attest to their usefulness in other situations." You held the handcuffs, brushing a thumb over the exquisite fur that donned it. It had been sourced from a loth-wolf pelt and dipped in fruit dye— that, you had done yourself. The muddled white and grey did no justice for your tastes. Now, it was a vibrant pink thanks to the meiloorun fruit you had wrung dry.

"How? I fail to see how you could detain someone with these." You let the Mandalorian take the cuffs out of your hand so he was able to examine them. It was amusing to see him shift them in his hands, his gloved thumb brushing over the fur.

You were quiet for a beat before you moved closer to the bounty hunter. As you did, you shifted your shoulder to let the edge of your robe slip. Even with the chill in the air, you didn't mind how it left your skin exposed.

"It's not so much what you detain them with, but how you detain them. You should know that well enough, Mandalorian. I'm sure you've captured your fair share of brutes with far less than those."

Din was quiet for one beat, followed by another. He marveled at the handcuffs, then your shoulder. While he had been propositioned by plenty of people, both bounties and bystanders, this felt different. His body felt tense as it dawned on him, what you were implying.

"I have," he broke the silence. "It's about the situation— how you keep them compliant." His gaze flicked towards your face. He hadn't missed the smirk on your lips, not that you tried to hide it.

"Exactly. These require submission." You grabbed for the cuffs again, yet you didn't put them back in the case.

"Submission?" Din asked. You nodded and reached for his hand, which he let you take. It surprised both of you, but neither acknowledged it. Instead, you popped one side of the cuff open and placed it wound his wrist. It settled in the leather divot left where the two metal pieces of his armor divided.

You gently tugged Din's hand, and it moved without much resistance. He was thankful for the mask; it hid the way his eyes had widened. He had never been willingly cuffed, let alone moved without force.

"I'd like to show you just how useful they can be." You waited until his helmet shifted, a slight nod that you made out. Without another word, you led him down the hallway by way of the other cuff in your hand.

Din felt stiff and awkward with each clunky step towards your bedroom. He wasn't sure what to say, how to break whatever simmering tension had built between you two. Out of all the propositions he had faced, why did he falter at yours?

Just like the rest of your home, your room was vibrant with hues of oranges and pinks cast across the furniture. Din noticed the large window that allowed him to take in the vast horizon of Zeltros, an overview of the bustling city below.

As Din took in the sight, you gave another gentle tug towards your bed. He hesitated, his movements stiff as he shifted in his spot. You started to speak but before you managed to get anything out, he sat on the bed. His back was flush against the headboard, which had been made of repurposed copper pipes.

"When using these," you began as you sat in front of him. "You must relinquish some control. Unable to use your hands, it requires the ability trust in your partner." Your robe slipped further down to expose your bare chest as you looped one of Din's arms through the pipe. As you clasped the other cuff around his other hand, you felt him sink further into the bed. You glanced down to see your breasts spilled out of your robe, right above the bounty hunter's helmet.

Din had never been more thankful for the safety of his face covering. He was completely flush; it would have been impossible to hide the way he stared at your breasts. He cleared his throat before he spoke up.

"Why should I trust you?" Din was even more thankful for the modulator, which warped the tense tone in his voice.

"You have no reason," you shook your head. "Just as I have no reason to trust that you won't break one of my prized possessions." You settled between his legs, both your hands on his sturdy thighs. Even through the fabric of his pants, you saw what effect the pink handcuffs had on him.

"You use these often?" Din asked, as if deflecting distracted him from the ache in his cock. It had been ages since he felt any sort of release, and even longer since it had been at the hands of someone else.

"No. Only for special occasions." You moved for his belt and fiddled with the latch. It dropped off his waist, pooled underneath as it fell on the bed. He watched your hands under the armor chest plate to undo the button on his pants.

"What makes this so special?" Din asked. He felt his chest tighten, his breath short as you released his cock from the confines of the linen pants.

"It's not every day that a Mandalorian comes to my home, looking for my help." You didn't give the answer much thought, your own form of deflection. Instead of focusing on the conversation, you brushed your thumb over the head of his leaking cock as your hand ghosted over his shaft. You smirked as he shifted at the gentle touch.

"How long has it been? Since you've felt the touch of another." As you spoke, you leaned down to press a light kiss on his slit. Even the voice modulator couldn't hide the choked back sound he made.

The Mandalorian was silent, as you expected. His hips shifted as you swiped your tongue along the underside of the tip. The way he twitched in your hand only made you swipe your tongue again.

"Not one for casual conversation?" You mused in a teasing tone. "I suppose that comes with your occupation, bounty hunter." When your lips weren't on his cock, your hand was wrapped around his shaft as you slowly jerked him off.

Din was overwhelmed by the slow, tantalizing pace at which your hand moved. He resisted bucking up into your hand, to chase the high you gave him, but it felt near impossible. He had denied himself so much over his life, and this moment of weakness ate at him. He had to remain strong—

Your head dipped down again, the warmth of your mouth too much for him to handle. Before he managed to speak, hot, thick ropes hit your tongue and the back of your throat. Your hand continued up and down his shaft as you coaxed him through his orgasm.

"Sorry," Din's voice was gruff, even with it being altered. He felt a different type of heat crawl up his neck and all over his face.

"No need to apologize," you assured him once your lips popped off his cock, not without a string of white saliva popping as you pulled away. "The throws of pleasure can do things to us that we cannot predict." Before you sat up straight, you wiped at your lower lip and licked your finger clean.

"It's... it's been some time. Since I've found myself in someone's bed," Din admitted. Even after the pleasure that had shuttered through him, his body craved more— anything you were willing to give him.

"Well, if you ever crave a warm bed to find yourself in," you leaned in and braced yourself on his sturdy shoulders. "You find me. Maybe I'll wear the handcuffs next time, if you think you've learned your lesson."

You pressed a kiss to the top of the bounty hunter's helmet before you tucked him back into his pants. While you wanted to keep him there for hours and keep him pliable, you knew he had other business to tend to.

You just wondered how long it would take him to realize that his bounty had been right under his nose this entire time. Amazing what a set of fuzzy pink handcuffs could do.

[the-real-timeloop-tourney]

Just realized that since, unlike the other timeloop blog, I have no qualms about posting things that aren't polls here. So I can finally talk about all the references on that blog that almost no one pointed out!

This is the one where most people actually got it since I reblogged it to the blog it was referencing, but the both neither button is obviously a reference to my other blog @who-do-i-know-this-man

The self reference that I think almost no one got was a reference was this one:

This is option-for-option, the same as the example post used for @blorbo-gerrymandering (which the characters swapped, obviously). Go check for yourself, it's still in the pinned of that blog.

^this one is a reference to my buddy @do-you-ship-it-polls. I even went through and made sure I got the capitalization and punctuation correct for the options. Unfortunately the mod of the blog did not see it before voting was done, which is a shame cause I feel like a reblog to there could have brought in some funny reactions.

Last one that was a specific reference was this one that is too long to screenshot. Which is a reference to @ultimate-character-design . Even more so than the previous I had to made sure to get all the details of the poll's format. Like did you notice that the names of the characters are bolded? I did. If I didn't the joke would have been ruined.

And thus concludes several paragraphs of me explaining my own jokes cause I get sad when people don't go "I know the thing" when I reference a thing.

Oh one last thing! I saw one other poll blog run a poll with Siffrin and Arimnaes. I think that is comedic gold and very much encourage any poll runners that see this to do the same. It doesn't even matter if 2 characters fit the format, if anything that makes it funnier.

[11queensupreme11]

What would Cú Chulainn do if Percy actually DOES fall in love with a mortal when she’s in Midgard

i'm assuming this is about the cheating au, which would mean cú chulainn's a god in this scenario and OHHHHHHHH MY GOD........

pissing off cú chulainn back when he was a demigod was already bad enough (dude was a menace), but when he's an almighty GOD????? that could literally ruin lives with just a single THOUGHT???????

😭😭😭 rip to the mortal man

(i think i might actually write about this way later btw lol)

percy, to her credit, knows damn well that she can NOT get attached to this man she met in midgard, that would put him in danger. so she pines from afar, but let's say she goes back home to valhalla after her lil break. she goes back to her motherly and wifely duties, but cú chulainn, who's become 1000000x more hyper-focused and loving to her then usual since he learned his lesson, starts to notice her attention lingering. she's more distracted than usual.

and so he looks to see where her Sight has been focused on lately!

(and btw, when i say "Sight" with a capital S, i don't mean she's physically looking at something. gods are omniscient to a degree, they can literally see wherever and whatever they want regardless of where they're at. i've explained this several times throughout the fic, but i'm just putting this here in case some forgot cuz its been a while since i brought it up 😅)

so he looks to see where his dear wife's attention has been at and oh. it's towards some mortal man. and she wasn't just gazing down on him, but subtly helping him from afar as well. school debt? gone. hospital bills? gone. that job interview he's been waiting to hear back from? he got the call and he got the job! his little siblings' school is suddenly able to afford free school lunch for all. his parents were given huge bonuses in their salary that could make them eligible for a comfy retirement years early! this man's life and the lives of his family has become nice and safe thanks to cú chulainn's sweet lil wife 💖💖💖

but cú chulainn fucking sees RED. he's seething with jealousy and also the dawning realization that this human man was a threat. because he knows his wife has a soft spot for humanity, that she even preferred their company over her fellow gods. percy's straying affections are a horrible reminder of his own infidelity -- an infidelity that he regrets because it led to his beloved wife temporarily leaving him for a few years. he can't let this man live, can't run the risk of losing percy again.

demigod cú chulainn would've went down to midgard to rip the man to shreds, and then kill him again once his spirit gets to valhalla, and then he'd be done with it.

but as an omnipotent god with unlimited power??? he's so much more crueler than he was as a demigod. if you remember my previous post about what sort of domains i'd give him (here), god of WAR would be one of them.

he doesn't even need to do much. he just needs to think of it and everything falls into place right then and there.

one night, the mortal man falls into a good sleep and when he wakes up the next morning, it's to the news that the US president has declared war with another superpower country. that same day, he'll get a letter in his mail saying he's been drafted. he doesn't have the money to be a draft dodger and he's in peak health, so he doesn't have a choice. he has to leave his family, give up on his career, all to fight in a war he never wanted.

and cú chulainn makes sure this war would be the worst war to ever occur in all of human history. and he makes sure the human lives through every grisly second of it. he exposes him to the worst of the worst, gives him un-ending trauma that he could never recover from. he makes this war drag on for years, decades even, all to make sure that the only thing this man knows is death and pain. he'll make sure to shatter this human's mind, make him a former shell of the man percy once knew and loved. he's going to ruin him for daring to try and steal percy's attention.

he'll make this war drive him to the brink of insanity until he finally kills himself, and even then his agony won't end because cú chulainn's already waiting for him in the afterlife.

[rynnthefangirl]

I loved the list you made about the things that Stan and Ford can and should or can't and should not be accountable but like there are somethings I don't get and I hope you could help me see things from your perspective. Like, the majority of people agrees that Ford has the right to hold a grudge at Stan for him breaking his machine since he did not apologize to Ford and time is not an apology. Ford also thought that Stan would be fine on his own and that was the reason he never checked on him. Also, Bill is a master manipulator, so Ford believing in him is more about Bill being good at manipulating people than Ford's ego.

I also think you forget to add some things, like, Ford didn't explained to Stan the situation that he was in, he just shoved the Journal 1 on him and ordered him to hide it without even saying if he would contact him to come back or not. He also brought up their childhood dream while doing that and later said to Stan that did nothing worthwhile with his life until that moment. And he also burned and branded Stan. While Stan called Ford selfish for not using his grant money to help their family and later tried to burn Journal 1 out of spite. He also messed up with Ford's infinity sided dice, which put him and Dipper in danger.

Thanks for the ask!

Regarding Ford not checking on Stan, I think you are correct that he figured Stan would be fine… but I also think that Ford believed this at least in part because he doesn’t want contend with his mixed feelings about his brother. He just wants to feel justifiably angry, so that he can forget about Stan and focus on himself and his future. Knowing that Stan was suffering would force him to confront how he does still love and miss his brother (but his aim is getting better), which would burden him and put him in a position of having to choose whether to make a sacrifice (whether it be time, money, emotional effort, part of his career goals) for Stan’s sake. Which he doesn’t want to do. Ford isn’t a bad guy, and he does love his brother… but he is really good at believing things just because he wants to believe them. I don’t think this is a reasonable view of reality though. Stan was kicked out at 18, with no money to his name, no friends, no family, no home. Ford should have considered the possibility that Stan may be suffering and need him. I certainly don’t blame him for being upset with Stan about the project or even necessarily for holding a grudge about it (especially given how terribly Stan handled that confrontation), but we know Ford cares for his brother despite that, and he doesn’t really show it when he chooses to never check on him for 10 years.

As for Bill and Ford, well I think it’s both Bill’s manipulation AND Ford’s ego. Like yes Bill was a good manipulator, but it worked because there was something for him to target. Ford was so desperate to believe he was special and important, which goes back to Ford being really good at believing things that aren’t actually reasonable just because he wants them to be true. I’ll link a more in depth post that I made that is kinda on this same topic, if you are interested :)

Then for the other points you bring up, you are right that both of them did a lot to escalate that situation into a fight. I will admit I am extremely lenient towards Ford in this situation because he was in the middle of a mental breakdown. I mean he’s been essentially tortured for days on end, I don’t blame him for being a bit thoughtless. I think the onus was on Stan to see that and realize he needs to be the bigger person in that moment. As for the infinity sided dice though, gotta disagree about that being on Stan… who puts an incredibly dangerous object like that in a cheap plastic case in a little sack? 😂 but to be fair, that dumb choice was more just for plot purposes so the episode can happen.

Here’s a link to the post I mentioned:

And thanks again for the ask, I love the Stan twins and talking about their relationship!

[varian212]

I came across your comment by accident, honestly. Over time, I’ve made it a habit not to follow too closely what’s being said online about the books I love; I know I’ll find opinions that will make me write way too much.

But that was my mistake, for checking the A Little Life tag. Foolish me, hoping someone had made some fan art or an interesting post. Instead, I stumbled upon what you wrote.

The following lines are not just for you but for everyone who shares your perspective. So take a seat, and don’t hesitate to respond with the same level of engagement that I’ve put into this.

I think you’re so absurd in your post, it’s almost worrying.

A Little Life is not just a book about homosexuals, Jude is not just a homosexual, and the story is not just about sexuality. It’s a book about people’s lives, with both good and bad stuff happening. And don't come here an say that there weren't any good moments, that'll only show me how your brain is fixed on one thing (hating the book) and it's blinded by everything else.

And welcome to Earth, where Hanya doesn’t need to make gay men suffer, that already happens. I invite you in Rusia for a weekend,do you know what would happen to you if,as a man,you'll walk on the streets wearing girly clothes or makeup? And I don't mean you'll get cat called; that's literally the best case scenario.

But your post only shows how privileged you are, how protected you are from what happens in this world. Turn on the TV, read articles, watch the news – do you think Hanya invented these kinds of monsters, these kinds of traumas? I assure you, no, she just wrote about them.

And what a strange thing, to bring up sexuality so much. Especially when a good part of Jude’s traumas happened when he was a child, then a teenager.

But your first concern is not "What the hell, how can she write about this kind of stuff happening to a child?" but "What the hell, this author has a fetish for gay people." As if, for you, it’s more important that Jude is gay than that he is human .

There are so many books like this but where the main characters are women and no one says anything. Guess we are already used to know about them getting raped,assaulted, beaten. Turns out it can happen to everybody.

Your empathy for gay people seems superficial, like the kind that’s only displayed on social media; never vocal in real life.

And you know what's even worse? Your audacity.

Let me tell you a little story : By chance, I am a volunteer for an organization called Save the Children.

Last week, a little girl was brought in, and I had to take care of her. Do you know what the problem was? Two soldiers entered her family house, destroyed everything, and raped her mother in front of her and her two younger brothers.

After her mother lost consciousness, they did the same to the little girl. And they did it so violently that she lost the ability to walk for the rest of her life. A few punches to the left side of her skull resulted in damage to the motor cortex, combined with strangulation, which led to hypoxic brain injuries. That’s all it takes.

I’m not saying this to shock you—I just want you to know that this is just one child out of millions of similar cases. Real life children,real life people.

Will anyone speak up about this? Probably not. Will the military court do anything about those soldiers? In the worst case, they’ll give them a few days off, and then they’ll go right back to doing the same thing.

Again, Hanya Yanagihara (cuz yeah,if you leave a hate comment,have the decency to write her name correctly) didn't invent shit. Those evil people are literally alive and well among us.

Now imagine I go to this child, look at her, and say, "You've been abused too much. What you've been through sounds dreamlike. It sounds like trauma porn, if I’m being honest."

Please read this paragraph again.

Do you see how it sounds? Do you realize how ignorant you are about everything that’s happening? How much comfort you have in your life?

Do you care so much about a woman who wrote about gay people? Why don’t I see you being just as vocal about men who have written about lesbians, white people writing about black people, healthy people writing about those with disabilities?

Why aren’t you just as disturbed by criminals writing about being victims?

Those things happen in real life too,and yet you are more concerned about a book.

Maybe this post will be read up to this point, and maybe it will wake up some of you privileged, upper-class white people commenting on your iPhone 16 Pro Max.

We don’t choose how we are born or what education we can afford up to a certain age, but at some point, it becomes our responsibility to educate ourselves.

Do you know what I do when I hate a book, an idea, or a movie? I learn absolutely everything about it. I get my information from five different sources to make sure it's reliable. I try to reason, to find opinions that contradict mine, as well as those that agree with me. In short, I become so familiar with every detail of what I'm trying to criticize that my arguments are as valid and verifiable as possible. That's what I call effort worth noticing.

If you're gonna be a heater at least pretend to be a smart one.

i could never read a little life, cus its a reminder that just like bi men in gay porn, women are infesting the whole niche of writing about gay male main characters and overrunning actual gay male writer who would love to write about actual gay male character and they also always use those gay male characters to punch down or project their own self. A little life is literally just a het woman writing about a gay man and putting him thru everything to the point it becomes just torture porn and for some even unbelievable to the point of being dreamlike. That writer (hana yanagihari) literally only writes about gay men who were raped in their childhood and suffered their whole life after, she literally wrote the same shit 3 times!!! 3!!!!! She is obsessed with having gay men suffer.

This is always a dead giveaway to me that someone doesn’t conceptualize gay men as actual people so their writing exposes them by showing how they use gay men as archetypes or plot devices to send a message or push an idea which sends me back to the heyes code cus thats their unknown undercover bible.

Like at its core there is no empathy towards gay men.

[roseverdict]

sometimes local places in a part of the country you'd always been ferried around by your hyperconservative parents can be accepting, actually

[aq2003]

has anyone gotten the idea that odysseus' storyline in hades 2 is a depiction/exploration of trauma over his SA and how he's blaming himself for things that were out of his control? because that's the impression i'm getting from what i've seen. he talks about "goddesses" as his "greatest weakness" and that "he's not one to say no to them"...

when mel invites him to the bath, he brings up mortals having different standards for intimacy than gods and how it usually has a more romantic/sexual connotation. she then asks if he's uncomfortable and he has a startled reaction and brings up circe and calypso again (but never actually by name)

(this isn't ship/romance bait btw. odysseus knew mel as a kid and they're stated in-game to have a sibling/uncle-niece relationship)

also he grew apart from penelope after his return, but the game makes a point of showing that his love for penelope and telemachus is what drove him on at all so that element of his character isn't brought into question

[quillsinkwell]

do you ever think about how Michael probably hated being compared to his father, yet in both Watsonian and Doylist terms, that's all he ever was

like in watsonian ways, all the animatronics targeted him and attacked him because he looked so similar to his father that they were the same people to the children.

and in doylist ways, the only thing that defined him was his quest to defeat his father.

like, what in canon has clued us in about Mike's personality? That has nothing to do with his family or animatronics? it's that he likes a show called the immortal and the restless.

that's it.

everything else we have given him in fanon.

he spent his whole life trying to deal with his father to prove he wasn't him, yet he's entirely defined by his father.

and without him, he's barely a character.

it adds a sort of horror to his death in pizza sim. like when he attempted to lay his father to rest permanently, the universe laid him as well, because it had no purpose for him outside of his father.

it also kinda makes glammike a little fucked up if you think about it this way, even if he either moved on or his spirit lingered in the pizzeria. his father rose again and the universe either dragged him out of the afterlife or kept him in the basement because what else is he if not his father's watcher

do you ever think about that despite his best efforts to not be his father, he's entirely defined by the man

do you ever think about that

or are you normal.

[feroluce]

For some weird reason, I've always been fascinated by how wildly different Sampo operates in the Underground vs the Overworld.

Sampo is present in both places and even in official sources, he's not really counted as one side or the other- now that the theory has been confirmed in-game, he's generally just lumped in with the Masked Fools.

But there really is a big difference!

Probably the most obvious and well known instance of Sampo's...business practices *cough burglary and fraud COUGH* in the Overworld is from the Belobog Museum event. In it, you don't find out Sampo is the main culprit until near the end, because Pela has to set up a sting just to catch him in the act. And that sting is necessary all because the initial suspect they arrested, Norbert, had pretty much no idea of his partner's identity. Sampo wouldn't even speak to him face-to-face.

And whereas Sampo is normally very pleasant and friendly with the trailblazer...when he thinks he's talking to Norbert here, he straight up says that they are NOT friends. Like he really shuts that shit DOWN.

There's also an Overworld NPC, Chavez, who heads the "Dark Blue Scam Support Group." And he. Really really really does not like Sampo fjkdasjklfdj

Chavez clearly wants Sampo caught, and has literally no positive feelings about him. So. Why call it the Dark Blue Scam? Why not just out him by name? Chavez obviously doesn't give a single shit about Sampo's dignity or privacy. But he never once refers to him as "Sampo," and even the pamphlets he passes out make no mention of it. No one in the entire support group seems to know how to identify him or how to refer to him except by his hair color. If the trailblazer says his name, Chavez reacts as though he's never heard it before.

(I've seen people say this means Sampo Koski is an alias and not his real name? But Ray pointed this out, and honestly I agree; even the Fools call him Sampo, after all. I think it's just that Chavez never knew Sampo's name in the first place, and given his immense distrust, immediately assumes it's an alias.)

And then there's his characters stories, where he proceeds to pull off a heist in the Overworld while in disguise as Brughel Poisson the entire time. Literally his own stories don't mention Sampo's name even once.

So anyway, all this shows that when he's up in the Overworld working cons, Sampo is incredibly slippery and secretive about his identity. The only people who seem to know him are Pela, Serval, and Gepard. He doesn't get close to anyone else, and is even surprisingly unfriendly. Nobody knows his name. No one knows his face. He has zero qualms about backstabbing or double-crossing, and even plans for it in some cases.

Meanwhile, down in the Underground, I'm pretty sure literally the worst thing we hear of him doing is scalping tickets in front of the Fight Club. Which isn't even illegal in a lot of places (although it's certainly a dick move).

In Hook's companion quest, a vagrant miner steals Fersman's equipment and tries to sell it to Sampo. Even before the trailblazer and Hook jump in and out the vagrant as a thief, Sampo hesitates to buy it because it sounds like stolen goods, which he doesn't want any part of.

Even knowing that a geomarrow detector is rare and incredibly valuable in the mines, Sampo makes no attempt to double-cross Hook or profit off of her loss, and even tells her who to go to to get it fixed.

And my favorite example of Sampo in the Underground is the Survival Wisdom adventure mission. In it, Sampo starts up a business with Peak, another miner. And like. In wild contrast to all the cons he pulls above ground, Sampo is actually super nice and helpful here.

Just the same as with Hook's quest, Sampo talks to Peak face-to-face, with no disguises or barriers. When the trailblazer finds them, they're just in the Great Mine, no secretive meeting places. Peak knows Sampo, is familiar with him, and calls him by name. It's not even a con! There's nothing illegal going on; it really is just a business partnership. Peak is more than happy with their deal, he's even pretty enthusiastic about it, because thanks to Sampo he can now make enough money to get by while also accommodating his chronic fatigue.

The only person Sampo lies to in this whole ordeal is the trailblazer, who he manipulates into getting Peak's mining equipment back from the vagrants that stole it in the first place. And when it's done, he rewards them with a legit treasure map.

So when he's working in the Underground, Sampo is MUCH more upright and lawful. Part of this is probably to do with his "business" model- Sampo only takes advantage of the wealthy, and poverty runs rampant in the Underground. When he charges Peak an extra 30% (the same percentage he charges Norbert as a consultation fee in the museum heists- Sampo seems to go by percentage instead of a flat rate, which means his prices are more fair for lower incomes) for carelessly losing their supply, Peak literally starts counting out pocket change.

Dude's working for pennies and good will down there dknsmdmd

And you can twist this into a Robin Hood thing if you want- Sampo IS technically working to feed orphans and heal the sick. He says himself he's more than happy to make up the shortfall between the greedy and the marginalized- I mean he says it in the shadiest way possible, but I doubt the people benefiting from his work really care that he's a slimeball if it means they can survive another day. Even the two heists he pulls in his character stories are literally just him stealing absurd amounts of food.

Personally though I think it is solely because of Natasha, and Sampo is hilariously well-behaved specifically for her, because she keeps him on a short leash JSKZJMSMSKS

[serpentface]

What’s the architecture/layout of old Bur, how do modern people perceive the ruins?

The city in its peak was very large and spread over both shoreline and a network of small islands. These islands comprised a waterfront district connected by a network of bridges and canals, where a large portion of its non-agricultural lower class lived.

It had a fairly well organized and efficient freshwater+sanitation system across most of its span (the canal district had less effective plumbing largely due to logistical difficulties, most of its wastewater was instead flushed by rain powered cisterns). The water system was powered by the Hsuke river and made fresh water readily accessible throughout the majority of the city (though few homes had direct freshwater plumbing). It had several major public baths, and the homes of the wealthiest members of society had their own private bathing pools.

In this part of the world, it is broadly regarded as once being one of the most beautiful cities to have ever existed. It was particularly noted for its water gardens (still a fixture of present day Burri culture) which were absolute marvels of engineering for that period, with the majority of these being entirely artificial and supported by its network of aqueducts. These hosted thousands of ornamental plants, fish, and fowl, as well as fruiting trees and shrubs. They were treated as a public work meant to benefit all citizens, and existed throughout the city.

The palace in particular was noted as impressive, in part for its architecture but mainly for its gardens. These hosted 'exotic' plants and a menagerie of animals from across the empire's territory, and existed in part as a symbol of the state's power and reach. It was a trend for emperors to bring in the fiercest animal from each conquered province to the grounds, with the an-nechoi being the beast of choice from the lands across the sea to the east, with one (Probably erroneously) cited as killing thirty servants in the process of moving it into the gardens.

The palace was located within the temple district. This district housed over a hundred shrines to the various lesser deities of the pantheon, and temple complexes to the seven chief deities (the firstborn gods who created the world, all other gods were later descendants). Old Burri temples were Kinda similar in shape to a ziggurat, though had an accessible interior space and a central tower which housed the shrine. At this time, the chief gods were believed to physically inhabit their temples. Each god had its own high priest permitted to attend to their shrine, with the emperor being the high priest to Inanariya (king of the gods) and the only person permitted to directly commune with this deity. The foundations to these temples are relatively intact in the present day, though none of the towers remain (collapsed in earthquakes with no one to rebuild them).

The city was heavily fortified, having one external wall surrounding most of its length, and an internal wall surrounding the palace/temple district (which doubled as a fortress).

---

The period of sea level rise began with a 500ish year period of mostly gradual increase, which occurred slowly enough that most infrastructure could adapt very easily and the problem went unnoticed by most (the city of Bur experienced most of its Growth during this time). It then culminated with about a century of (relatively) rapid rise, which is the direct cause of the city's abandonment.

The canals flooding had always been a problem during storms, but this began to occur with notable frequency, alongside the water level as a whole rising quickly enough to be noticed on an immediate human timespan. The canal district was maintained for a while by rerouting some of its waterways and building up barriers, but it was the first part of the city to be abandoned. Things got more serious when the mainland parts of the city grew increasingly impacted by storm surges that never seemed to fully retract, and major parts of its surrounding farmland were hit by surges and tidal waves, and rendered too saline to remain arable.

The actual single biggest cataclysm was the collapse of the city's mainland sewage system. It was built with flood canals as a failsafe, but these were built to withstand heavy rain rather than an encroaching ocean. Storm surges would cause large segments of the city to be flooded with sewage (including some of the freshwater plumbing), and serious disease outbreaks would follow.

These issues were enabled/exacerbated by earthquakes (the region is geologically active and this isn't unusual) that further damaged and mingled the sewage and freshwater systems. One earthquake and its subsequent tidal wave was a turning point, and the resulting breakdown of (already strained) infrastructure rendered a large swath of the city uninhabitable in the space of about a week. This also just caused immediate damage to much of the city's architecture/walls, and collapsed the tower of the temple to Inanariya (never a good sign). This is when the full exodus began, first with people flocking to un-flooded parts of its city and farmlands, and those who could afford it fully relocating to other cities/towns.

All of this issues were compounded by the 1st Burri Empire already being in a period of collapse at this time. This was largely a matter of simple overextension. Its borders were constantly under attack by rival states/its victims, sometimes with great success. Bur's own population had burgeoned well past what the imperial core land could sustain, and its cities relied predominantly on extraction of foreign grain/goods to feed their people. It lost most of its eastern land holdings in a fairly rapid timespan (overextended with wars at multiple fronts), which caused frequent famines in its core.

This put pressure on its final emperors to invest in increasingly desperate expansionist projects, while attempting to keep up public morale with lavish public works and objectively stupid vanity projects. The attempt to excavate a canal at the Viper seaway's 'tail' (one of the few eastern regions it retained secure control of at that point) was in part a desperate act to revive its economy by opening up/monopolizing a new trade system. The amount of money and manpower sunk into this ultimately doomed project was followed by Bur being fully ousted from its eastern holdings, and was one of the final straws in its collapse.

People in the city of Bur proper were dealing with the double front of starvation and their homes + streets + immediate water supply being flooded with seawater and literal human feces. These issues impacted the lower classes first and most severely, but ultimately transcended class boundaries. Famine grew more and more rampant, not only with the loss of the colonial holdings that supported the population but of farmland in the imperial core- much of the city of Bur's immediate farmlands were unproductive due to repeat inundation with saltwater during surges, and the farmland along the Yamage river to the north was rapidly being captured and pillaged by the Hsem (historical enemies, a nomadic group with a khait warrior culture from further west).

All this was fucking unlivable in of itself, but also had very obvious implications in the context of Burri emperors also being high priests and the chief intermediary between the gods and the people. Not only was the government failing to sustain its citizens to begin with, but signs of divine disapproval were deeply apparent.

So the last days of the 1st Burri empire were a chaotic period of civil unrest, most acute in and around city of Bur proper. This involved near-constant peasant revolts and several attempted coups. The last Burri emperor (of the First empire) ultimately fled the capital of Bur and reestablished in Titenegal, declaring it the new capital. This was then sacked by the Hsem within a year and after that it was fucking Joever.

The city of Bur was functionally abandoned by this point. People still Lived There and there were several attempts to set up a new government, all of which failed in the short term. After the collapse was complete, its inhabitants were mostly just peasants who built up new homes further inland and sustained themselves on the remaining farmland. Few people lived permanently in the city proper due to all of its intact infrastructure being effectively non-functional without the governmental bodies/human labor to sustain it.

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It should also be noted that it was Extremely not just Bur that was flooded, the sea level rise was worldwide (resulting from a collapsing ice sheet) and almost Every coastal city during this period experienced the same issue. Bur's demise was just notably dramatic in that it was once the most heavily populated human city that has Ever Existed, and directly correlated with the fall of the empire it hosted.

The flooding was fairly gradual, but it's been 7 centuries since the first Burri empire's collapse and the fall of its capital city, and many contemporary records were lost to the immediate chaos and to the large span of time since. Cultural memory tends to reframe the flood VERY rapid on a human scale, many of the stories describe the city being swallowed in a single wave as an act of divine punishment (the popular notion at the time that the last emperors deeply displeased and shamed the gods has stuck into the narrative, often exaggerated into stories of them being horrifically debauched blasphemers guilty of the worst disgraces imaginable). Even more conservative accounts tend to imagine the totality of the destruction taking place over the span of about a year (merging the memories of the immediate earthquake devastation with more gradual elements of its slow flooding). People widely believe that most of its residents drowned in the city's cataclysmic demise, and that the ruins are now Extremely haunted.

The state of the flooding is not 'completely under the sea' and you can still walk/wade through most of the inland ruins (the canal district is effectively submerged, with most structures that Would be above the water level having collapsed against the strain). As such, some people Do Live Here. These people are mostly smugglers and pirates using the ruins as a hideout, and/or opportunistic hunters and fishermen who won't let ghosts stop them. Entering the city ruins is currently forbidden (largely Because of the criminal nature of basically every motive to go here (even hunting, which is considered poaching)), but enforcement of this rule/active patrols to prevent entry are inconsistent.

The majority of Old Bur's inhabitants are animals. The un-flooded parts of the city and its gardens are now a host to a thriving community of native plants and animals (and a few descendants of escaped non-native zoo animals/ornamental plants that adapted well to the conditions).

The egret shown here is a foreign species originally brought as an ornamental bird. In the centuries since its first import, it has become widespread and occurs on both sides of the Mouth seaway. It can hunt in both freshwater and saline environments, and a very large population lives permanently in the ruins of Old Bur.

Its common name is the ghost egret. Contemporary Burri folklore holds that the ghost egrets of Old Bur are literal ghosts, carrying the souls of those who died in the cataclysmic floods.