#utterly abominable

[divinity-backup]

i'm absolutely abominable @alairmena

what if they just never kiss ever again. Like.... never ever.

[rocketbirdie]

deranged picnic

[the-kestrels-feather]

Reasons to Avoid Texas:

Too many Republicans

Hot

Too fuckin big

The Rolling Giant is a real thing that actually exists

[lokijiro]

Sherlock is so anxious and so certain that his brother will see that he's on drugs that he dreams about Mycroft asking for the list. He makes a desperate attempt to hide that he's high when he wakes up, but he never actually believed for a moment that he'd manage to fool him.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

Just finished my second run of Veilguard with my Rook romancing Lucanis this time.

On one hand, I want to say his romance healed some of the damage inflicted upon my heart by Anders... which I wasn't expecting.

On the other hand, it definitely created more damage.

I'd elaborate but I'm too busy sobbing on the floor.

[amazingmsme]

Hello again I've returned with more LIB hcs because they're perfection.

So we all know that Wiggly's doll is a thing in the Hatchetfield world (and that the other 4 have their own respective plushies- thx nightmare timee)

But question

Do you think the chibi plushies on the starkid website count?

Like those were made for US in the real world, but imagining Black Friday round two is hilarious to me XDD

Also, if they count, do you think tickling the chibi plush of Wiggly makes him squirm?-✨️

Ps. Counting chibi plushies or not, do you think the rest of the lib would be affected by any tickling of their tumsy-wumsies?

Black Friday just happens again, but in a different timeline😂😂 or rather, Black Friday 2 Electric Wiggalooo

No fr tho, I think so! Because like, if the ultimate goal with the dolls is to make a vessel that can be used to open a portal/summon them to the real world, I have no idea why they wouldn’t all make their own dolls. Oddly enough, I think Blinky might’ve been the first lord in black to get one such doll because he’s the mascot for his own theme park, with a TON of Blinky themed merch! He just never took notice because he was so busy watching through the dolls via other mother style or because kids didn’t play with his doll like with Wiggly because Wiggly was strictly advertised as a tickling doll. Obviously you’re gonna tickle it! But with Blinky’s doll the most common physical sensations he’d receive from them would be gentle hugs around his body or someone holding his hand (from a kid carrying the doll around by the arm)

Sorry, that was probably more doll lore than you expected! But long story short, yes, I do think they all have their own respective dolls in universe.

& I like to think anything is possible! Maybe since they’re smaller, condensed versions of the original dolls, the sensations are more distant or not as strong? But they can’t definitely still feel it. Or depending on if they are intentionally trying to connect with the real world, then they’d feel it with a lot more intensity

But the rest of the lords thought it was just a Wiggly thing to mock & tease him for, until their own dolls were released to the public, & they realized that they too are not immune to tummy tickles via their plush vessel

[codexcrow]

YOU ARE CLINICALLY INSANE

[herbertwest]

Tokyo Gore Police ROCKS

[somnoir]

Prodigal son beyond Time - part 2

Part 1 | Masterpost

Damian first met his great uncle Danyal when he is three years old. His mother says he's met him long ago, when he was but a babe with a memory too fuzzy to remember. But the man before him is his grandfather's favorite child. The son that scowls at his father as he cradled Damian in his arms.

"What have you done?" His uncle scowled, a gentle hand pressed against the back of Damian's head. "He's a child!"

"Danyal!"

"You weren't like this with me." Danyal spat, keeping Damian in his arms and pressing his lips towards his nephew's forehead. Damian notes how cold his uncle's skin felt like, but more welcoming than that of his grandfather's.

"Danyal, he is to be trained like a proper Al Ghul." Grandfather said, frowning at Danyal.

"You trained me like a proper Al Ghul when I was older than him!" Danyal immediately protested, "He's three!"

"Danyal—"

"Ukht, I understand that you wish the best for your son but this is not it." Danyal immediately said, looking apologetic for interrupting Talia, but went back to glaring at Ra's. "I've tried to tolerate the fact that you handle an assassin league, father but this? You taught me to be loyal to the family. You taught me to cherish the family, you're blood—why the fuck aren't you giving the others the same treatment you gave me?!"

"Because they are not you!"

Damian doesn't recall what truly happened that day, but he does remember how his uncle's eyes went from soft blues to the same shade that the Lazarus pits glowed.

Damian remembers everything going dark.

Damian grows up differently.

He continues on his training, but everything is kinder to him. The world is kinder when his uncle is home, having tea with grandfather and overseeing his training. Mother loves him and uncle Danyal the most, claiming that they are blessings to her life.

Grandfather is quieter nowadays, almost docile with his uncle around.

It's a little more peaceful. The assassin's continue to train, to fight. But their reign of terror fall upon those that are corrupt and destroying the world. It's one of the compromises uncle Danyal and grandfather have led too.

Damian grows up differently.

Damian's arrival to the Bats' lives was unprecedented and quite confusing. He was a child raised by assassins, a child raised to become the next leader of the league. But he was... Strange. Strange for that kind of standard. 

Damian was rather sociable, hostile but not downright murderous towards them. 

His uncle did make sure that he had friends in the league.

Ra's had been utterly ecstatic to find out that he had two more grandchildren while Talia was quite pleased to know that she had a niece and nephew. 

Damian had a pair of strange cousins who snuck him out of training to go watch the stars, often getting them scolded, but it was worth it. Dante was older than Damian by five years. He was what other would call an angsty teen with how he often rebelled against his father. Meanwhile, Janelle—preferebly Ellie—was only a year older than Damian himself. She was a mischievous person who made sure that everything around her was swallowed by her own chaos. So when he entered the manor, suddenly struck with the reality that he had multiple siblings instead of just one elder brother, Damian knew what to do. 

Murder was not the answer. 

But by the words of his gracious uncle and the wisdom of his excellent cousins: fight your siblings like a feral child but defend them by being even worse to others. 

So Damian's first act as Dick Grayson's younger brother was to bite him. 

The undead were restless, rising from their graves or haunting their own corpses. It wasn't something they usually dealt with, forced to call upon magicians. 

But even Constantine was bewildered by just how cursed Gotham's lands were. To bring back the dead. Jason was a miracle but this was like an abomination, a literal zombie. 

No one really knew how to properly deal with the dead...

Well...

"My uncle would be willing to provide his assistance in this matter." Damian piped up, examining the contained zombies from a safe distance. All eyes were quickly drawn to him, bewildered and questioning. 

"I hardly think that Dusan would be suitable for this." Bruce sighed. 

Damian scowled, "Not him. My grandfather's first-born is whom I speak off. He is knowledgeable in the occult arts of the dead." 

"Damian... Ra's Al Ghul only has one son." 

"Untrue. Grandfather's greatest pride was always my uncle. He is precious to grandfather and ensures that no one knows much off him. I expected you and Drake to be aware of the first born." 

Tim stiffened, "They weren't rumours?! Ra's actually has some cryptid son?" 

Bruce, who had heard of the old tales of the Demon head's beloved heir, had always thought they were stories to scare the assassins. He's never seen the man, nor has he found any evidence of him in the league. 

Jason finally started paying attention, "So the league's golden boy can help? Dami, I don't think Al Ghul will even let his favorite kid anywhere near us." 

"You underestimate my uncle's love for me."

"You met him?" Bruce quickly interjected. 

Jason shrugged, "He helped me out back then. Patched me up when the pit madness got worse and helped me manage it. But his face was usually covered and no one really knew his name."

"Aside from myself, grandfather, and my mother." 

Bruce frowned, "Nyssa and Dusan don't know their brother's name?" 

"Grandfather says that they do not have the privilege of knowing his name. Mother was the first of his other children to have met my uncle."

"And what about you? You won't give us his name?" 

Damian scowled, feeling rather displeased with his father's choice of words. "Names are powerful, father. My uncle taught me this when I was young." 

Constantine narrowed his eyes, "You're uncle some kind of fae, kid?" 

"Watch your mouth, hellblazer. He does not like you." Damian hissed, having heard all his uncle's rants about the Laughing Magician, especially whenever he'd just randomly pick up Talia and walk around Nanda Parbat like she was a kitten rather than a deadly assassin. "But I shall call upon my great uncle and ask him for assistance. This matter with the undead shall surely pique his interest."

"Tell the old man I said hi!" Jason cheerfully added, sounding quite pleased to hear about the mysterious uncle. 

"No." Damian blatantly denied. As much as he loves Todd (and he will never admit that), he was not going to let anyone threaten his status as his uncle's favorite child. Over his dead body. 

Damian was quick to walk away from all of them, quickly retrieving all the materials he'd need to summon his uncle. Dark green paint for the summing circle, five candles, and an astrology book. 

"Bats... Why the hell is your son performing a summoning ritual? For a ghost of the realms too." Constantine's tone was strained, clearly disturbed and wary of Damian's actions. 

"Damian." Bruce warned but Damian just waved him off. He watched as Jason started lighting up the candles, humming an unfamiliar tune. 

"D'you think the old man will help us?" 

"Of course! Uncle adores me." 

"You think he'll give me his name?"

"I will gut you, Todd." Damian immediately responded with the most nonchalant tone he could ever give. 

Jason shrugged, before taking a step back. 

"Damian! Whatever you're summoning—" 

"I'm summoning my uncle, father. He's the best person to go to with these issues." Damian insisted, before muttering something unintelligible under his breath.

Bruce was startled when Constantine grabbed him, eyes wide and rapidly turning pale. "Why the hell does your son know how to speak the language of the—"

Fire burst forth from the circle, slowly morphing into an icy blast. 

"Dead." Constantine's breath hitched, "Holy shit, your brat just summoned the ghost king." 

Bruce grabbed Damian the moment a hand emerged from the blast of cold. He shoved his on behind him, suddenly feeling frightened as his entire body felt goosebumps. Fuck. Did Damian really just perform a summoning ritual for such a powerful being? He never expected for Ra's to brainwash his son into believing that such a powerful thing—

"Nephew!" 

Bruce blinked, suddenly blinded by the light. 

"Uncle!" Damian escaped from his grasp, rushing into the circle. Constantine practically screamed once Damian ran into the arms of what was supposedly his uncle and the ghost king. 

In front of Bruce was the most gorgeous man he's ever met. 

The floating hair that reminded him of snow and the green eyes that were purer than the Lazarus pits. He couldn't help but swallow thickly, blinking. Damian was held up by the ghost king, allowing the boy to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. 

"Hello, dami (my blood)." The king cooed, his pronunciation of the nickname much different from the shortened version of Damian's name. "I was not expecting you to call me. What's happened, my dear?" 

Damian hummed, but before he could speak, he was immediately interrupted.

"Long time no see, old man!" Jason yelled, waving his arm as if he wasn't in the same room as the king. 

"Jason! Hello! How are you? The corrupted ecto hasn't returned, has it? If it has, just tell me. I'll schedule a check up with Frostbite." The king quickly fussed, not minding the way Damian was baring his teeth at Jason. "Damian, behave!" 

Damian just seemed to whine, refusing to behave and opting to pestering the king. 

"I'm good, uncle. Haven't gone out crazy since you took me to the doctor." Jason smiled, already ripping of his domino mask to show that his eyes were green tinged with blue, not glowing green like the pits. 

"Good, good. But I really must know why I've been called." The king softly said, directing his words to Damian who was already trying to wriggle our his grasp. Gently, the king settled Damian back on his feet. 

"Right. Uncle, my father, Batman. Father, this is my uncle." Damian introduced, his tone hurried and a bit hesitant. 

The king, Damian's uncle, smiled at Bruce. "Hello there, Mr. Wayne. I've wanted to meet you for a long time." The king hummed, "My name's Danny, but the Al Ghuls call me Danyal." 

"Uncle!" 

"Hush, hush, Damian. I can give my name to anyone I want. I don't suppose that your father is worthy of it."

Bruce really should be more concerned about the fact that the king knew his name. 

"But what of the others?" 

"Little one, I sent Nyssa and Dusan letters ages ago. But rest assured, dearest Talia is still the first to earn it." Danny—Danyal—the ghost king softly spoke and patted Damian's head. "And... Oh, it's you."

"Your majesty!" Constantine enthusiastically greeted while Danny scowled. 

"Tax evading bastard." Danny huffed, shaking his head before promptly ignoring the tax evading bastard in question. 

"Damian." 

"The dead are rising."

Danny blinked, blinked again, before he groaned and shook his head. 

"Okay, sorry. That seemed to be caused by an error on my side. Some prisoners of my realms started a riot and some of them managed to break out. Some have most likely decided to overshadow their old bodies." Danny sighed, "I'll have this taken care of. Apologies for the inconveniences."

"These... Zombies have been wrecking havoc across my city." Bruce frowned, "They've been harming people."

"Vengeful spirits do that. They're criminals meant to be in prison. It's rare for breakouts to happen, in all honesty." Danny paused, just long enough to run his fingers through Damian's hair. "But if you wish to take charge, by all means. These are corpses being possessed by their own spirits and... Well... They're out of their minds. Not really considered revenants since the possession isn't quite permanent." 

"Alright, Bats. We've gotta make a proper deal here. His Majesty was summoned so we've gotta offer him something—" 

"That's not necessary." Danny immediately waved Constantine away, evident displeasure from the man. "The sigil I gave Damian was just to call me to him. No need for an exchange."

"Seriously?" Constantine blurted out. 

Danny just shrugged, "He's family. And my favorite nephew." 

Damian smirked, absolutely smug. "I am your only nephew, uncle."

"Mm... Jason's also my nephew." Danny chuckled softly, easily stepping out of the circle and removing it from the floor—leaving not a single stain. "Now... Shall we deal with the dead?" 

Bruce Wayne has made many bad decisions in his life, especially when it came to his relationships. Damian's ghost king of an uncle might be one of them.

Masterpost

[chrolloluvr]

May you please write Mammon x reader smut. Where the reader is short and has a size difference kink. If you do I give many thanks in advance (Seriously love this blog so much)

♡ Mammon w/ A Size Kink ♡

Note: AHHH TYSM BOOKIE!!! Also yes this has been on my mind for so long... and I have not made a proper NSFW fic yet until now. So here you go! (alot more NSFW coming soon, especially for this man...) So here are my thoughts! Also sorry if its a bit short...

AFAB, Female!Reader

Warnings: Size kink, belly bulge, penetration, overstimulation, size transformation, oral (female and male receiving) ★

The height difference makes him feral. He is at least a couple feet taller than you. So he likes to use this to his advantage. By manhandling you. he will pick you up, grab your waist, literally rip your legs off of its hinges when he pulls them apart, etc. So, he likes when you are shorter than him. It gives him a power influx, and it makes him feel supreme to you. So he will basically use you like a glorified sex doll.

He will purposely make himself transform into a couple feet taller. Like a big, scary spider. So he can intimidate you, and get you riled up. He wont have actual penetrative sex with you in his big spider form, but he will eat you out.

And he delivers very well. His tongue is huge. You feel like your in cloud 9 whenever he eats your pussy, especially because he does not do it very often.

his favorite position, especially due to his size, is Full Nelson. He likes how in this position, he has complete control over you. With his upper hands behind your knees, his hips under your own, and his lower arms circling your sensitive clit, and his other hand pussy slapping you. Sometimes, he will place you in front of a big mirror, while hammering his hips into your vice, little pussy. Also making you look at yourself, being utterly destroyed by his large cock. He will tie your ankles together with his webs when he does this.

His other favorite is picking you up, and putting his hands under your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. He enjoys listening to the skin slapping sounds, and how lude they sound. And seeing your reactions to his every harsh thrust to your G-spot. And how especially cramped you are between his body, his cock, and his arms, with a tight grip on your ass. This position makes you more sensitive and vulnerable, which is just where he wants you.

Belly Bulge. Need I say more? It makes him laugh, and chuckle about how 'your gonna take it- fuck, yeah, you like that don't you- little fuckin' slut-'

It makes him realize just how large he is compared to you. How much he effects you and your body. He craves this kind of dominance over you.

He is a little bastard. When he sees you have a belly bulge from his constant plummeting, he will press down onto it. This, as he is well aware of, makes you see stars. You become a moaning, drooling, babbling mess under his large self. Which is what he wants, of course.

The sheer size of his dick. He cant help but feel aroused, when he compares you and his cock side by side. Every now and then, he will have you sat right behind it, while he holds you, and just admire how small you are. He has to prep you for your first time together, and even every single time you guys do have sex. Simply because of the size of it. And its not just long, its girthy too. So if you dont have some prep, he might end up abominating your poor womb.

He especially likes seeing you struggle, especially when you give him head. you can barely fit your mouth around it. Your jaw gets sore within literal seconds of putting his member in your mouth. So you have to use your hands (which also barely touch eachother), for the rest of his cock.

Overstimulating you. His favorite way of overstimulation you is with his arms and hands. He will have you trapped in between his legs. One of his lower arms will be fingering your supple core; the other one circling harshly around your clit. One of his upper hands holding your waist up; the other one toying with your breast and sensitive, puffy nipples.

He also likes overstimulating you, by having you cock warm him. Its one of his favorite past times. Especially when you two try to be sneaky, like during his pageants ontop of the webbing. (should I make a whole other post about this??) He just loves feeling the warmth of your pussy against his cold self. And he wont let you move. Like at all. Unless he grabs your hips and forcibly bounces you up and down, which is after a while of waiting of course.

Dirty talk. He loves making you feel smaller, so he will talk down upon you. Everything he calls you starts with 'my', because he is very possessive. things like "my slut", "my whore", "my princess", etc. He will never talk about you in a truly bad connotation. So he will say things like:

"You like being my little slut, yeah?"

"C'mon, you can take more. don't be a baby."

"yeahhhh. Takin' it like a fuckin' champ. Good fuckin' girl-"

"Oh fuck... shit just like that"

"Ohh yeah- thats some good shit."

"Dont you dare fuckin' move."

"You feelin' good princess? Yeah I bet you are. Fittin' me like a glove."

"Awww you want more? Your gonna have to wait a bit, m'kay?"

"You want it inside? Ya' want daddy to fill ya' up real nice?"

So overall, he favors when you are small and meek. Just be a good girl for him, and you wont have to worry about his intimidation, okay?

[takami-takami]

With how Hawks degrades himself so easily, do you think his first analysis of exploring his sexuality once he realizes how painfully he's attracted to you is to call himself a whore?

He thinks the thought, like ah! And the lightbulb that flashes above his head ends up quickly processed and cemented as utter and complete fact.

Keigo must be a whore. A pervert. A degenerate. That's what this is, right? Staring down at the silky cum that coats his hand after touching himself to the utterly platonic way you touched him first earlier in the day, Keigo assumes that must be what this is.

Clearly, he must be a fucking perv, because only perverts heat up for some reason at their friend simply standing too close to them. Only whores find their hand covering their mouth to conceal the gross, abominable things they're thinking (like kissing. Making out, if he dares to be honest with himself. Possibly even sex in the missionary position.)

Poor thing.

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

Bestfriends?

Dark!Gojo x Reader

18+ MDNI, dark, animal cruelty, non-con, violence, Gojo is horrible (I mean it), baby-trapping. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You should've known better than anyone that Satoru was never the merciful type.

His cheerful personality wasn't a facade but having known him for years made you aware of all the little tics that made him so terrifyingly him. Particularly that one little tic of his that always manages to send chills down your spine and ice the edges of your heart from fear despite him being your bestfriend.

The kind of fear that makes you wanna curl up into a ball and shrivel up just from the thought of being in the receiving end.

It's the little tic of his that makes him act like a cat which terrifies you even after all these years. It's not the way he acts so annoyingly asshole-ish like some cats or the way he acts so clingy like your beloved cat, Saibo, that scares you. No, it's the way he acts like a cat in it's most primal form that scares you. An instinct so abominable that it makes you cringe from disgust at just the thought of Saibo imitating it.

It's the very tiny tic of his that makes him toy around with his enemies like a cat that toys around with it's prey. Not for a just cause like survival but for the mere fact of entertainment to ease it's boredom; maybe you should've just killed yourself before it reached to the extent of making yourself Satoru's next target, his next prey and his pretty, little wife.

"Satoru, I told you twice already. My answer is a no, I don't want to marry you" you sigh, folding your arms across your chest as you look up at the man looming in your apartment doorway with an expression so blank that it reminded you of a statue.

A statue hand-crafted by the heavens itself and wearing the skin of your bestfriend.

His silence is a curse and for some eerie reason, you could hear the ticking of a clock somewhere behind you. Like a countdown of a bomb.

"Why?"

Flabbergasted doesn't even start to describe what you feel at his question because you've been telling him exactly why for the past two days since he stepped into your office and offered his proposal. And yet here he is, repeating the same question like a stuck recorder. There's nothing else you can say, you've already used up all of your excuses ranging from being an orphan to his clan elders future disapproval.

So when Saibo comes and rubs itself against your leg? There's only one utterly stupid sentence that presents itself-

"I promised my mum that I wouldn't marry anyone until I lose Saibo." Great, just great. You're a damn genius, obviously intelligent enough to dig a deep enough hole and bury yourself alive because why on Earth would you bring your sweet mum up right now. Leave the dead to rest in peace is what you should've don-

The smile tugging on his lips and the light tone of his voice after the uncomfortable silence cuts your monologue off. "That's all? I just have to wait for you to lose Saibo for you to marry me?"

"Watch your words, Gojo. You've gone too far" You snap, narrowing your eyes up at him.

If looks could kill, Satoru would've been buried a good 60 ft deep in because you obviously weren't gonna be satisfied with 6ft. Not after what he said; sure you did imply it but that still doesn't make it any better.

"This is going too far but rejecting me three times isn't?" Satoru scoffs, walking in so confidently that it made you stumble back and made your beloved cat hiss at him, bless her heart. His back faces you and suddenly it's cold, chills runs up your spine after your initial surprise fades and the click of the door lock seemingly drowns itself in the rapid thump of your now slowly thundering heart. You're getting deja vu, you're sure of it, it's the same sensation you always get when he gets on the battlefield.

When he turns back around, you notice that his blindfold was off but the look on his face is what makes you freeze. His gaze was anything but friendly and his eyes were a color so menacingly blue that it cuts through your skin and attaches itself in that tiny part deep inside you that always made you wary of him. For good reason.

Saibo jumps in front of you and promptly growls, a sound that you never heard her make, shaking you awake from your frozen daze and forcing you to watch the person you called your bestfriend quickly close the small distance.

"All I wanted was your acceptance" he says, ignoring the hissing cat in front of him "Is that really too much to ask for from you, pretty?"

"I can give you everything, Satoru. Everything except for that" you breathe out shakily, goosebumps rising in your arms when he caresses your cheeks. A touch so cold that you're not sure if it's because of his infinity or the frozen mechanism beating in his chest that he calls a heart.

"Then give me everything" Satoru's hand on your cheeks slides down to your neck, wrapping around it to pull you close "I'll give you everything you want in return, I'll give you anything in the world"

His hold gradually tightens on your throat, almost like a threat. No, it was a threat.

"Do you even know what you're asking for?" You spit out, nails digging into his wrist but that damn infinity of his kept you out and him safe almost like he was the victim in this situation.

"You clearly know that I do darling, and it's a damn shame really" He leans in, his eyes filled with so much adoration it makes you wanna gouge it out "Since I always thought you were a smart girl but maybe it's time to treat you like you're dumber than you are"

His last words are a whisper in your ears and in a split second his infinity is down and his lips roughly crash against yours, one hand squeezing at your throat and the other forcing your mouth open to shove his tongue inside while your hands tears into his skin and pushes at his chest, his face, his shoulders but all it earns you is a loud moan from him that shrivels something up inside you when you realise he likes it.

He likes your desperate attempts to free yourself from his disgusting hold. Likes the way you struggle against his grasp. Likes the way you whine and whimper protests against his lips, trying desperately to bite down on his tongue and finger but pathetically failing to do so-

What he doesn't like is the way Saibo also manages to dig her claws into his skin, much like you, albeit shallow due to the thick material of his pants but doing enough damage to attract his attention. You've had Saibo for 15 years and never was she so violent, tears springs in your eyes at the thought of it but before a single tear even manages to glide down your reddened cheeks, there's a push and you're down flat on the couch behind you and Satoru is holding a hissing Saibo by her fluffy white cuff.

"Shame, I actually liked you since you looked like me y'know?" Satoru hums, holding her at a safe distance with a small frown "Made me think that you'd remind her of me"

"Satoru, let her down" you manage out shakily, sitting up and holding a trembling hand out for Saibo. Hoping that Satoru wouldn't do what you think he's gonna do, he's your bestfriend afterall...isn't he? He should know better than that-

"I was trying so hard to be nice to you darling. I even went out of my way to ask you three times but you- hah- Honestly, you brought this to yourself" he clicks his tongue with a shake of his head, an almost feline grin plastered on his face as he steps back.

You've known Satoru for years now and sure he was a little volatile, somewhat impulsive and downright crazy when it came to the things he wanted but at least he was constant.

Constant enough for you to know that he was batshit insane.

"Satoru, please" you plead but her back is facing you and his hands is around her neck and there's nothing you can do but rush towards him a second too late. There's a sickening crack and a loud howl and Saibo's back is turned towards you but her cerulean eyes burns through your skin and heart and mind and soul an- the ticking of the clock finally stops. "Well she's gone now. Looks like you're finally able to marry me" his voice is light, almost cheerful while you're frozen in place. Tears blur your vision but both their cerulean eyes burns stark in your mind, Satoru and Saibo.

You've lost two bestfriends in one day. Lucky you.

There's a strangled cry emanating from somewhere, one so despaired that it claws at your heart and makes you wanna cover your ears and just cry yourself to death.

"I didn't want to do this either, darling" there's a quiet shushing and a warm hand places itself against your mouth, blue eyes gazing back at you like he hurts more than you do.

You shut your mouth and the sound is gone but the scratches in your heart still stings when you're pushed flat on your back. Still hurts when you limply tilt your head to the side to look at the lump of white on the coffee table and ignore the dull feeling of someone groping you because your pretty cat laid there, it's dead blues staring at you.

Saibo, your pretty little cat. Your mother had adopted a cat when you were young, a cat just as soft-spoken and warm as her. A pretty little ragdoll with soft, white fur and cerulean eyes that always licked at you like its own kitten when your own mother held you in her arms and cooed sweet nothings to you.

There's a numb hold on your cheeks and a hollow sound of squelching when you feel someone pry your mouth open and force something wet inside. Your blurry gaze flickers down to see your shirt missing and ugly red spots splotched across your chest, flickering your gaze upwards only to find blue eyes staring back at you.

Blue eyes like your mother's cat, one that never left your mother's bed after her death. She had a litter of five when your mother was alive, she had only one left after your mother's passing. The very one that she gently laid down on your open hands, licking your cheeks one last time before curling up in her usual spot and quietly passing away on your mother's bed a month lat-

"Don't go gazing off into the distance on me now, pretty girl" Someone coos in your ear, the blurriness of your vision slowly melting away when a warm hand wipes the silent tears streaming from your eyes. And then you see the familiar face of a man that looked nothing like your bestfriend, nothing like the Satoru you thought you knew.

You blink. Once. Twice. Trying to make sense of his echoing words through the haziness of your mind that wraps around you like a blank cocoon and numbs the intrusive feeling of his touch in between your legs. Time is a privilege and you don't know how long he's been at it but the dull heat resting low in your stomach and the disgusting feeling of his fingers moving inside you was as unwelcome as it was unwanted.

Not like he would've cared if you voiced it out.

Satoru always did have the ability to unceremoniously wrench the space people considered safe from underneath them; you've watched him give his enemies a false sense of security enough time to immediately recognise that familiar smile making its ways on his lips. The smile that made you realise that your fate was sealed, only proven true by the burning stretch that rips at the haze in your mind and steals the welcomed numbness to replace itself with burns that sears into your skin and brands itself deep inside.

"Satoru st-stop" you breathe out, brows furrowing from the sharp stings as you dig your nails into his skin and create little moon shaped dents into the milky expanse of his chest. "C-can't, won't" he groans out, pushing his cock well past the resistance of your clenching walls with gritted teeth "Also relax darling- hngh- you're just making it worse -shit, stop that" His hand besides your head moves to your hair, hold so tight that it pulls at your scalps and makes you grunt out in pain.

"Wait. Look I'm al-already halfway in" Satoru groans out delightedly, forcing your head up to make you look at the way he was buried inside you. Pulling out just a little to show his thick cock covered in your slick and blood because of course you'd bleed when an inhuman size forces itself inside your tight hole even after all the prep.

And then he's pushing back in mercilessly and there's a choked, painful moan forcing itself up your throat "St-stop -ah-it hurts!"

"I'm sorry darling. I know it hurts but it won't for long" he shushes at you quietly, pressing featherlight kisses on your forehead "It'll just hurt this one time, I promise." Your body is screaming so hard from the pain and betrayal that your voice seemingly loses itself in it, quiet gurgles being the only thing rising from your bleeding throat when he suddenly bucks his hips and bottoms out in you.

And then you're gone.

Nothing in this world could ever make you forget the sound of his heaving moan and guttural praises; praising you for taking him so well, acting like he didn't just force himself past your resistance and inside you.

Your tears and sobs don't deter him, it only turns him on, only encourages him to whisper sweet nothings in your ears, the sound of it makes you wanna rip your defiled ears off, and lick at the fat blobs of tears sliding down your cheeks. His small show of mercy is allowing you to adjust to his size; it only makes you feel worse, just the thought of him inside you for a second longer makes you wan-

An impatient thrust is all it takes for you to go numb again, body going limp when he runs out of patience and grabs hold of your hips to slam you down on him. Over and over and over again until you're nothing but a pile of meat and bones, and he's nothing but a groaning mess of everything you hate. Until your howls turns into muted little ah's and his held back moans morphes into a version of your name that he so religiously, and loudly, mewls in your ear with every buck of his hips against yours.

His voice is as muted as the sound of wet skin slapping against each other, your head limply tilted to the side with your gaze blankly fixated against the brown material of your couch when your body shuts itself down. But like all respite, Satoru steals it away again with a click of his tongue and a hand squishing your cheeks together into a small pout to force your head to the other side. Forcing you to look at the disproportioned lump of white on the table that you once called family.

Satoru could just say that he personally killed your mother at this point.

"Don't w- ngh-worry. Always knew you wanted a family" he rasps out, biting and sucking at every inch of skin he could get his lips on "Now I'll give you one, a real one. One that doesn't include a damn cat"

"S'toru" you whisper out, barely finding your voice in the mess and like always, it's ignored for his own rambling. "Gonna fill this right up for little mini-me" there's a sharp sting on your chest, you force your gaze down and look over his hand to watch him suckle at your nipples like a newborn babe searching for milk. An idea he's soon gonna turn into reality. You rasp his name out louder, ignored again when he finally lets go of your cheeks to slide it down to your womb and press down, hard "I-I swear I'll make- ngh-you into a mama if it's the last thing I do"

There's only so much feeling that your body can numb, only so much it can do against Satoru and his dick. Your orgasm was anything but pleasant if not painful, feeling his every inch, vein and curve mold itself inside you and rip you apart with shocks so violent that you jerk and writhe and clench your gooey walls down on him- you know it's finally over when he babbles in your ears and spurts something hot and repulsive inside you, his brutal pace finally stuttering to a stop and turning into a grind, perfectly plugging his obscenity inside you.

"Satoru" your voice is foreign to your own ears, his heat goes unregistered and the white cold lump is promptly forgotten because of that one thought buzzing in your head. "Yes darling?" His voice is as foreign as yours to you, his gaze undecipherable when he pulls away to look at you, leaning down to kiss you on the li- "I hate you"

He pauses, lips brushing against yours just barely. There's that signature smile of his and the regrettably familiar feeling of his lips pressing against yours. His reply seemingly drowning itself in the constant buzzing of your ears, only one thought ringing through your mind over and over again.

You should've killed yourself the very moment he proposed to you.

Masterlist ° NSFWlist Had to post this snippet cuz 2 months is a long time to be dead for. I got the heebie jeebies writing this but I was too far into it so I had to finish it😦

[levis-poison-is-my-medicine]

Forget Me Not

A Reiner Braun x Reader fanfic

Crossposted from AO3

Reiner accidentally delivers flowers to the wrong person on Valentine's Day... and that person just so happens to be you.

tags: modern AU, flower delivery guy!Reiner, fluff and humor, silly and a bit thirsty, AruAni make an appearance (word count: 3.5k)

(Moodboard) / (AOT Fanfic Masterlist)

The doorbell rang while you were in the shower. You were just going to ignore it, but then it rang again. And again. Clearly, they weren’t gonna give up. You quickly rinsed out the shampoo and jumped out of the shower.

"Coming!" you yelled as you threw on a towel, then sprinted to the door.

You didn’t know what you’d expected. A postman, perhaps, who wanted you to accept a parcel for a neighbor. Maybe a salesperson of some kind. Definitely not this.

A solid wall of fragrant red. Red roses, hundreds of them, taking up the entire space of your doorframe. You stared at the sight, completely and utterly confused.

"Flower delivery!" said the wall of red in a deep, rich voice. Then it moved towards you, the sweet scent enveloping your befuddled senses. "What the—"

"I know, it’s quite big. Would you prefer me to put it somewhere for you?"

A head poked out from behind the roses, and you realized that there was, in fact, a person behind the humongous bouquet of roses thrust out toward you. Quite a good-looking one at that, with warm, golden-brown eyes that were currently fixed at you with a questioning look.

"Um," you said. "Sure. That would be great."

You stepped aside to make room, and watched in baffled silence as the man carried the rosy monstrosity inside, only then realizing the true scale of the thing. Which didn’t help one bit with your confusion.

"Is that table okay?" the man asked.

"What? Oh. Yeah. Just put it wherever."

"Got it," he said, setting the bouquet down with a low grunt. Without the bouquet covering him, you could see that he didn’t just have a handsome face, his frame was attractive too — broad-shouldered and tall. And here you were with your wet, unkempt hair, probably looking like a drowned rat in a towel. This was just your luck. Thankfully, he hadn’t mentioned your rather unconventional outfit. You weren’t sure he’d even noticed it, as he hadn’t looked up once, still busy arranging the bouquet on the table.

"500 red roses," the man said with a grin. "That’s our most expensive order today. And it’s Valentine’s Day, so we get a lot. Someone must love you very much." He finally looked up at you then, his eyes dropping to your towel for a split second before flicking away again, suddenly very preoccupied with picking up the rose petals which had scattered on the table. Great. So much for making a good first impression. You shook your head, trying to cure yourself from the case of hot-guy-itis which had clearly befallen you and threatened to cloud your rational judgment.

Right. Time to look at the facts. It was Valentine’s Day. Hence the flowers. But it still didn’t explain where this abomination was coming from. Or rather, from whom.

"Does it say anywhere who sent it?" you asked.

The man straightened up from where he had crouched on the floor to pick up some more rose petals. He still avoided looking at you.

"I’m not sure. Think I saw a card in there somewhere. Probably says on there." The man scratched his head. "Maybe you have a secret admirer. Or something."

"Maybe," you said, voice filled with doubt.

His eyes darted to your face, and he cleared his throat as if he wanted to say something, but then didn’t, swallowing thickly instead. You could see his Adam‘s apple move in his throat, your eyes suddenly drawn to the neckline of his green uniform shirt. The first button was undone. You couldn’t stop staring. The hollow of his neck, the surrounding muscles working as he looked down to took out his phone…

"Oh. I almost forgot. Still need a signature for the delivery." Your gaze snapped back up at his words, and you could feel your face flush with heat, like you‘d just been caught doing something forbidden.

He took a step closer, then stopped, awkwardly extending the phone to you from a distance. You took it and quickly scribbled your signature with your finger. God, this was embarrassing.

"Thanks," he said, taking the phone back. When he looked back at the screen, his eyes widened.

"Shit, I’m late for the next delivery. I should go. Sorry about the mess." He sheepishly gestured at the rose petals still scattered on the apartment floor.

"Oh, that’s okay. I’ll clean it up later. After I finish my shower." You smiled, still embarrassed.

"Yeah. Have fun," he muttered, his voice a little hoarse, before practically bolting out of the apartment.

You blew out a breath you hadn’t realized you'd been holding.

"What the hell," you murmured, pressing a hand to your heart. It was beating fast against your fingertips, skipping like a broken record. What were you, a teenager? It had been a while since you’d had such a strong, visceral reaction to a guy. And, of course, the one time you did, you were half naked, and he was delivering you flowers from another guy. Great, just great. And you still had no idea who they could be from.

"Please, anyone but Floch," you mumbled, shuddering at the thought of your pushy coworker.

He’d asked you out as many times as you’d turned him down, but for some reason, he still didn’t get the message, forcing you to repeat it time and time again — a Sisyphean task with no end in sight.

You made your way over to the bouquet to check for the card, finding it hidden at the bottom of the arrangement, tied to the binding paper with a silky red ribbon.

It was made from thick, marbled paper, and the front simply read: you are my sun — beautiful and bright. I revolve around you.

You snorted. So corny. But as you flipped it over to read the rest, your grin faded, giving way to a frown.

Dear Annie, Please accept this bouquet as a symbol of my love for you — 512 roses, one for each wonderful day we’ve been together. Each petal represents a moment of joy, love and tenderness you’ve brought into my life. Someday, I hope, these precious moments will add up to be so many, these days with you become so countless that it’ll be impossible to represent them with roses or gestures or anything else. Even words might not be enough then. But I’ll never stop trying. Forever yours (if you’ll have me), Armin

This bouquet wasn’t for you at all.

You stared in horror at the moments of joy, love and tenderness scattered all over your floor, when it should have been Annie’s. Whoever this Annie was, she likely wouldn’t be happy to know that this heartfelt message had been passed on to somebody else. And Armin, well… You could just tell that he would be completely and utterly devastated by this turn of events. Clearly, he had put a lot of thought into this. And money. If you didn’t do something about this, his hopelessly enamored heart would probably break into tiny little pieces — 512 pieces to be exact, one for every rose paid for but not delivered.

You cursed under your breath, pulled your towel tight, and dashed out onto the street, frantically checking left and right for any signs of the flower delivery guy. But he was nowhere to be seen. No vans, either. You went so far as to check the parked cars at the side of the road, a final act of desperation. But to no avail. He was already gone.

"Shit," you muttered. An old lady walking her dog wrinkled her nose at you. She pulled at the poodle’s leash, making it clear that she deemed you bad company for the dog who had happily run up to you, oblivious to her judgment. You crouched down to pet him out of spite.

What now? As you got up and walked back to your apartment, you contemplated your options. You could call the flower shop and tell them it had been delivered to the wrong address. Only, that might get the cute delivery guy into a lot of trouble. After all, it was the most expensive order of the day, as he'd told you himself, though you didn't know exactly how much that amounted to.

A quick Google search make you gasp. 500 red roses – that was over 2000 bucks. He would lose his job, for sure.

But if you didn't call them, an inconsolable Armin certainly would. Either way, Cute Delivery Guy would be screwed. You couldn't let that happen. You'd just have to lie and make up some excuse.

As you dialed the number of Liberio flower shop, the name of which had been tastefully emblazoned on the card, your phone almost slipped out of your sweaty palms. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you should stay out of this and leave this up to fate. It had nothing to do with you after all – so what if Armin's and Annie's Valentine's Day was about to be ruined, derailing Armin from his joyous orbit around his bright sun and potentially ending their 512 days of blissful unity. So what if Cute Delivery Guy lost his job, turning him simply into a Cute Guy. He might not be able to pay his bills anymore, but at least he wouldn't have to wear that awful green uniform shirt. (Though on him, it had looked awfully good. Illegally so.)

Who were you to go up against fate? But before you could get yourself into a philosophical debate about determinism and the existence of free will, a woman's voice spoke on the other side of the line.

"This is Liberio flower shop, Pieck Finger speaking. How can I help you?"

You froze, your mouth completely dry.

"Hello?" Pieck repeated.

"Hello. I'm, um... Annie. And I have a question. A bouquet of roses has just been delivered to me, and I was wondering…" You swallowed. "I was wondering whether there was a way of contacting the deliveryman?"

There was a pause on the other side of the line. "May I ask why you'd like to contact the delivery driver? Was there a problem with the order?"

"No!" you exclaimed, your voice high. You cleared your throat. "I mean… No. Everything was fine with the order. More than fine actually. It was perfect. It's just…" You tapped your chin, trying to think of an excuse. You should've thought this through beforehand.

There was a sigh on the other end. "If you're trying to get Reiner's number, I'll have to disappoint you. We don't divulge the personal information of our employ–"

"That's not what this is!" you interrupted, mortified. "It's just that he forgot something here. If you could get in touch with him, he could stop by and get it. While he's still in the area, you know? " You held your breath as you waited for an answer.

Another sigh. "Now that, I can believe. If his head weren't screwed on... Well. You get the idea. Was it his cap again?"

"His cap? Yes. The cap. He left it here." You weren't even sure he'd been wearing a cap at all, but you were grateful for the suggestion.

"A true classic. I always tell him to just keep it on, but he insists it's rude to wear hats inside." You could almost hear the eye-roll. "Anyway, I'll give him a call. He should be there soon to pick it up. I'm sorry for all the trouble."

"It's nothing. Thank you!"

You hung up quickly and tossed your phone onto the table, a huge grin spreading over your face. Fate had been fought successfully. Jobs would be kept and orbits would be maintained. You'd even found out Cute Delivery Guy's name. Reiner. Reiner, who was well-meaning but scatterbrained, forgetting caps and wrongly delivering orders. Reiner, who was probably the cutest flower delivery guy to have ever graced this earth. Giggling, you broke into a little victory dance. Your towel fell to the floor with a soft thud. Oops. Better finish that shower before he came back.

– –

When the doorbell rang this time, you were prepared. For one, you were actually sporting more than just a towel, having opted for a cute outfit that suited you well without seeming too dressed up. You'd also dried your hair and put on some light makeup, keeping it casual. No need for coming on too strong. After that rather dismal first impression, you were determined to at least make the second one good.

You got the door with a smile. And there he was – still cute, even in that grass-green uniform, the shirt hugging his chest in a way that brought out his toned form underneath. You forced your eyes upwards to his face again, where you were met by his golden-warm gaze.

"Hi," you greeted him, already feeling your heartbeat speed up.

"Hi," he said, a little hesitant. "The flower shop gave me a call. Said something about me forgetting something here?" He twisted something in his hands, something green. A cap.

"Yeah… about that." You rubbed your temple. "Sorry about the confusion. You didn't actually leave anything here. I just needed a pretense to get you back here."

"To get me back here?" Reiner raised an eyebrow at you.

You flushed a bit. Could have phrased that differently. "Um, yeah. I didn't want you to get into trouble but… you got the order wrong. That bouquet isn't for me."

His eyes widened. "Shit. Are you sure?"

"Yep. That card was by a certain Armin, thanking me for our 512 wonderful days days together. Think I would've noticed if I had a boyfriend, let alone for that long."

"Oh." Reiner huffed out a laugh. "Guess I got the address wrong. Let me check." He took out his phone, eyebrows drawn together in confusion as he looked at the screen.

"Shit. You're right. Mix-up with the numbers." He scrubbed a hand up through the back of his hair, shooting you a sheepish grin. "Man, I'm such an idiot. Thanks for covering for me, you really saved my ass here. And sorry for the trouble."

"It's fine. Besides, I couldn't let Armin's efforts be in vain. His beloved Annie deserves to witness this grand gesture of romantic sentiment while the roses are still red on this fine Valentine's Day." You gave him a wink.

His grin widened. "Quite the lovebirds, huh. I see you've already grown attached to them."

"Yeah. It's strange, but after reading Armin's heartfelt message to his sweetheart, I couldn't help but become invested. The flowers may be a bit over the top, but the sentiment behind it feels genuine. It was kind of adorable, actually." You smiled at the memory of the cheesy card.

"And I almost ruined it for them," he groaned. "Maybe I should start working as a reverse Cupid. Reiner Braun – destroyer of love and happiness."

You stifled a laugh. "I wouldn't go quite so far. You're here, aren't you? Just in time to save the day."

Reiner nodded. "Yeah, and I should probably get to it. Better late than never, right?" He took a step forward, then hesitated.

You motioned for him to enter. "Come in. I'm y/n, by the way."

"Thanks. I'm Reiner." He brushed past you through the narrow doorway, his arm touching yours for just a split second, but the warmth of it was enough to make your heart flutter. You really were down bad for him.

"I know," you said, trying to shrug off the butterflies swishing around in your stomach. "Already heard of you. Reiner Braun – almost-destroyer of love and forgetter of caps. Quite the reputation you've got there."

He chuckled – a low, rumbly sound at the back of his throat. "You don't have to rub it in, you know."

You pursed your lips. "But it's so much fun."

"Glad to know at least someone's having fun today." But his eyes betrayed his words, shining with amusement.

He walked over to the table where the rosy display of affection was already waiting for him, the card neatly tucked away again at the bottom. You'd tried to move it back to the door earlier, but the thing had hardly budged at all.

Reiner, on the other hand, lifted it effortlessly, the biceps of his arms flexing noticeably underneath his shirt as he carried the massive bouquet towards the door. You swallowed, finding it hard not to stare.

He stopped in the doorway, his face hidden behind the roses. But you could hear the smile in his voice as he said, "Thanks again. I owe you."

Then he was gone.

You looked after him, a little wistful. Should've asked for his number. But as you made to close the door, something green caught your eye – a cap, hanging from the door handle. You smiled. It was the same color as his uniform, with Liberio flower shop embroidered in yellow thread on the front.

Had he left it on purpose? You shook your head, trying to shake off your delusions. He'd probably put it there earlier, when he needed his hands to check the address on his phone, and promptly forgot all about it. Oh well. You didn't mind, if it meant you'd see him again.

– –

The doorbell rang while you were taking a nap on the couch, ripping you from your peaceful slumber. For a moment, you were thoroughly disoriented. You squinted at your phone, trying to find the button to turn off the nonexistent alarm. Then the doorbell rang again. With a raspy groan, you rolled off the couch and stumbled over to the door.

"Flower delivery!" a familiar voice called out as you opened the door.

You blinked at the man in front of you, eyes still blurry with sleep. "Reiner?"

Your eyes fell to the flowers in his hands, a jumble of pink, white and yellow,

extended toward you with a lopsided grin.

"Very funny. You're probably here for your cap?" It had been almost a week since Valentine's Day, and you'd begun to think he'd never show up to collect it.

"My cap?" Reiner asked, a little perplexed. "Oh yeah. That, too, I guess. But it's not really why I came." He glanced down at the flowers still held out to you. "Actually…" He trailed off. "These are for you. To say thanks, and also sorry for the trouble. And for giving you flowers only to take them away again. That was pretty crummy of me, actually."

He shifted his weight, still not looking at you. Your heart melted.

"Oh, that's so thoughtful of you! They're so pretty, thank you!"

You gently took the bouquet from his fingers, holding them up to your nose to take in the smell. "Mm-hmm, they smell heavenly."

"I'm glad you like them," Reiner said, his face breaking into a wide grin. "To be honest, I kinda arranged them myself. Though I'm no florist or anything. But I asked which flowers meant what, and kinda went from there."

"Really?" you asked, taking in the eclectic selection of flowers in the bouquet. It looked a bit chaotic, but the fact he had arranged them himself made it so cute you could explode. "What do they mean?"

"Yellow tulips signify gratitude. Just like the peach roses." He pointed at the lighter shade of the two kinds of roses in the bouquet. "The pink carnations are for apologies. The white tulips too, and apparently they also symbolize new starts. Thought that was fitting. And the pink roses symbolize…" He cleared his throat. "Do you maybe wanna get coffee sometime?"

You bit back a smile. "That's… oddly specific. I had no idea pink roses could mean that. But I'd love to."

"Great, I know a good place." Reiner grinned. "And they definitely mean that. You should take my word for it. I'm fluent in flower language, you know?"

"Sure you are," you said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It's true."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really. Tell me, then – what's the appropriate flower for when you want someone to remember to take their cap with them this time?"

Reiner smirked, eyes gleaming with a smug confidence. "Easy. Forget-me-nots."

You broke into laughter. "Oh, that's actually perfect. That should be your flower. I'll give you some next time, as a memory booster."

He shook his head, clicking his tongue in mock offense. "Now that's just rude. I'll have you know that I actually have a good memory. I'm just sometimes a bit… distracted."

"Distracted, huh? If that's what you want to call it."

But as you looked up at him, your teasing grin faded into a genuine smile. However much you might poke fun at him about it, you were secretly grateful that he was like that. After all, it had brought him to your doorstep. Now you just needed to invite him in.

A/n: And this ends my silly little fic for the Valentine's Day prompt of @fromriches-tosin's cute AOT bingo <3 It's the first story I did for Reiner, and I'm thinking about maybe doing more for him in the future (he's actually one of my favorite characters.) Let me know what you think!

Credit: The cute forget-me-not divider is by @saradika-graphics!

Tag list: @nironasaran, @shakysif

If you'd like to be tagged for future works, follow this link to join my tag list (or send me a DM). See you <3

[stellaclaw]

i think part of the reason i love hollyleaf but really hate her comeback is because she was a fascinating look into a downward spiral from expectations. she didnt kill ashfur because she was a girlboss or because he was threatening her. she killed him because he knew the truth, and if he said it, that would make it real. in some fucked up way, if he died, maybe that truth would die with him and she could go back to the happy lie.

but she couldnt. because killing him didnt change the truth. and learning just how far it went broke her so utterly because by the laws she had been raised by, she was an abomination twice over. the prophecy didnt matter anymore, her family didnt matter anymore, because hollyleaf had sworn herself to the culture of the clans, of SERVING her clan (because the prophey was service, always to make herself the greatest warrior of thunderclan), and how could she do that when her very existence spat in the face of their laws?

hollyleaf thought she had lost everything, and the ironic part is that… she really didnt? she was still firestars grandaughter. she still came from a grand legacy, was still a notably skilled, almost prodigal warrior, was decently liked and experienced, still had a family that loved her. she had everything a clan culture would want, but she broke their laws by existing, and so everything else meant nothing and everybody involved had to be punished.

so its kind of a slap in the face to have her come back and her redemption being to “let the warrior code rule our hearts” when her tale was a cautionary one of what happens when you allow the law to color your perception of the world and the value of people. it addresses the murder without the motivation, or any of her other crimes, her resentful bigotry towards the woman who raised her, her cruelty towards the mother who wanted her and loved her so badly that she was willing to forgive ATTEMPTED MURDER without an apology. all it did was absolve one (1) crime without resolving the actual conflict of the character.

[krummholz-go]

The Final 15 - Aziraphale’s Perspective

I see a lot of empathy for Crowley’s experience during the final 15 minutes of season 2 and it makes sense that we feel deeply for him. What he is experiencing is very human - acknowledging the depth of his own feelings, plucking up the courage to say something, having it come out all wrong, feeling utterly rejected, and then walking away in a mix of pain and anger. Who among us hasn’t been there?

But Aziraphale is experiencing something more complicated, something fewer of us have analogs for. Aziraphale has internally acknowledged his feelings for Crowley for some period of time, probably at least since 1941. Michael Sheen confirms this mental state in a NYCC 2018 interview:

“I decided early on that Aziraphale just loves Crowley. And that’s difficult for him because they are on opposite sides and he doesn’t agree with him on stuff. But it does really help as an actor to go, ‘My objective in this scene is to not show you how much I love you and just gaze longingly at you.’”

Unlike Crowley, Aziraphale’s struggle isn’t acknowledging his feelings. His struggle appears to be two-fold: 1) believing that Crowley could ever love him back and 2) even if Crowley did love him, believing a future for the two of them together could exist within the restrictions of his larger world view.

Can Crowley love?

Angels are, traditionally, beings of love. We see Aziraphale embody this time and again, showing kindness and support to almost everyone he meets, including the amnesiac Gabriel who has treated him abominably in the past. He is attuned to love, remarking on how the area around Tadfield “feels loved” twice in Season 1. As for how Aziraphale personally understands and expresses love, he shows his love to others through verbal affirmation and, to a lesser extent, physical touch. There are many examples of Aziraphale expressing his love for Crowley through positive verbal affirmation, typically by praising him for instances where he has been kind, nice, or good. And on the rare occasions when Aziraphale receives verbal praise, he absolutely interprets it as an expression of love, blossoming with happiness.

But from Aziraphale’s perspective, it may be unclear if Crowley can feel love in the same way. Can demons love? Did he lose that capability when he fell? Crowley can’t feel the aura of love in Tadfield that Aziraphale remarks on, and his reactions to Aziraphale’s praise are always to shrug it off, tell Aziraphale to “shut up,” or in the most extreme case to physically slam him against a wall and get in his face about it. In this last instance he tells Aziraphale, “I’m a demon, I’m not nice. I'm never nice. Nice is a four-letter word.” A four-letter word, like love, that is not in Crowley’s self-defined vocabulary.

If Crowley can feel love, does he love Aziraphale?

Even if Aziraphale believes Crowley is capable of feeling love, he does not always recognize how Crowley expresses it in the moment. Crowley shows his love for Aziraphale through actions, but Aziraphale often misconstrues Crowley’s motivations. In 1793 when Crowley rescues him from the Bastille, Aziraphale initially assumes Crowley is only there because he is responsible for the Reign of Terror. Similarly, in 1941, Aziraphale’s reaction to Crowley’s appearance is to assume he’s just part of the Nazi gang, saying,“I should have known. Of course. These people are working for you!”

Crowley doesn’t help matters in this regard because he is constantly muting and undercutting his signals to Aziraphale. Every time Crowley expresses his love for Aziraphale through actions - rescuing him, saving his books, even taking him to lunch - he does so in a nonchalant, dismissive manner, indicating he ascribes little value or importance to the actions he has performed. “I just didn’t want to see you embarrassed,” he says when he appears in 1941. And when Aziraphale positively glows with happiness about his books being saved, Crowley tells him to “shut up."On top of these confusing signals, Crowley is almost pathologically incapable of expressing his feelings in the verbal love language that Aziraphale can understand. This is heartbreakingly demonstrated in this scene after the bookshop fire:

Crowley can’t even say “I lost you.” Instead he speaks of Aziraphale in the third person while sitting in front of him, saying, “I lost my best friend.” The little hitch on Aziraphale’s face when he hears this is just devastating. Who is Crowley talking about? The last conversation they had before this scene was when Aziraphale called while Hastur was in Crowley’s apartment and Crowley said, “Not a good time - got an old friend here.” Aziraphale is left to wonder - is that who Crowley means when he says "best friend?" Crowley is everything to Aziraphale, but what is he to Crowley?

How Would It Even Work?

Even when Aziraphale does get flashes of the possibility that Crowley may care for him he immediately runs up against his second mental block - there is no world he can imagine where they could be together. When Crowley first suggests running off together in the bandstand scene in S1E3, Aziraphale collapses under the thought: “Friends? We aren’t friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don’t even like you.”

While he is obviously in denial, Aziraphale is also under tremendous stress in this moment and is desperately trying to hold onto some stability by falling back onto his world view and ideology. In this state he backpedals all the way to “I don’t even like you.” In his understanding of the way the universe is supposed to work, he and Crowley are hereditary enemies and should not even be friends, much less in love. Aziraphale expresses this core belief throughout the series. What kind of existence could they ever have together in reality?

The Final 15

With this as a background, we can better understand what Aziraphale experiences in the final 15 minutes. Even before the Metatron enters the scene, Aziraphale begins to have his fundamental beliefs challenged which puts him off his footing. The revelation that Gabriel and Beelzebub are in love is deeply impactful. When Beelzebub says “I just found something that mattered more to me than choosing sides” and takes Gabriel’s hand, Aziraphale immediately reaches out to make contact with Crowley, a look of incredulity on his face. Here is proof that demons can feel love and that an angel and a demon can carve out a space together. The road may be difficult, but it is not impossible.

Before Aziraphale can digest this revelation the stakes are ratcheted up: Michael threatens to erase Aziraphale from the Book of Life due to his part in hiding Gabriel. The future that Aziraphale has just barely glimpsed is already under siege. It is at this point that The Metatron enters, offering Aziraphale not just survival and protection, but a version of everything he has ever wanted.

If Crowley is reinstated as an angel, Aziraphale will no longer have to wonder whether Crowley is capable of feeling love. And if they are both angels, there will be no conflict inherent in having a life together. In one fell swoop, the Metatron entices Aziraphale with a future where there are no remaining blockers to an eternal, loving existence with Crowley. It will be “like the old times, only even nicer” because they now have millennia of their shared history to build on together. Of course this logic is horribly flawed and does not take into account at all what Crowley wants, but in the moment it must feel like an enormous gift to Aziraphale.

Unfortunately, not only is Crowley’s reaction to this “incredibly good news” not what Aziraphale expects, the conversation quickly takes a baffling turn for him. Crowley shuts down the talk about returning to heaven and attempts to say what he wants to say. Sadly he once again utterly fails to speak in a way that Aziraphale can understand.

The audience knows what Crowley is trying to say because we have the context of his earlier conversation with Maggie and Nina. But Aziraphale lacks that and thus can’t understand where this is coming from or what it means. Rather than expressing his feelings as Beelzebub and Gabriel did, Crowley recites facts: we’ve known each other a long time, we’ve been on this planet a long time, I could always rely on you, you could always rely on me. He can’t even say the word “couple” when he describes them, referring to them more as colleagues with words like “team” and “group.” And the one time he does try to express his feelings and desires he is physically unable to get out the words: “And I would like to spend—.” He then retreats into his old plea to turn away from heaven and hell and run off together. Nowhere in Crowley’s confession does Aziraphale hear “I love you” or even “I want to be with you.” What he hears instead is what he’s heard multiple times before - Crowley wants to abandon both heaven and hell and default to just the two of them. From Aziraphale’s perspective this will not solve anything for them. They will still be an angel and a demon, at some level fundamentally separated by their very natures.

Having failed in his speech, Crowley then does two things in rapid succession that must be excruciatingly painful for Aziraphale. First, he does the opposite of verbal affirmation by calling Aziraphale an idiot. We have seen Aziraphale become physically radiant in the rare instances where Crowley has praised him, so a direct insult like this must feel poisonous. Then Crowley makes a last desperate attempt to communicate through Aziraphale’s other love language - physical touch - by initiating the kiss. But without context or understanding of what is behind it, Aziraphale can initially only experience it as forceful, angry, and shocking. With more time to parse it I think Aziraphale will come to understand Crowley’s meaning, but in the moment it must feel manipulative and borderline cruel.

The Results

In a very compressed time frame, Aziraphale has to move quickly and radically through multiple mental and emotional states. For 6000 years he has believed he and Crowley cannot be together. Suddenly, with the revelation of Gabriel and Beezlebub, that foundational belief is challenged. Before he can work through what that could mean for him and Crowley, the Metatron offers an even cleaner solution - they can be protected from retribution and be on the same side again. When Crowley rejects reinstatement wholesale, it makes Aziraphale feel that he and his loving offer of a life together have been personally rejected. Then that rejection is further confused through the shocking experience of the kiss which Aziraphale does not have adequate context for or time to understand and integrate. In his emotional turmoil, Aziraphale falls back on his default crutch for dealing with sadness and anger - forgiveness - which further cuts him off from Crowley. Taken all together, this is a tumultuous rollercoaster of whiplash emotions that pull at every part of Aziraphale's self- and world-views.

Compared to what Crowley is going through, I think Aziraphale is going to have the tougher road in Season 3. Crowley may still need to better reconcile and integrate his feelings for Aziraphale, but Aziraphale has 6000 years of foundational ideology to challenge and evolve to reach a place where he and Crowley can be together as their authentic selves.

[robin-evry]

𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐄𝐈𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 𝐘𝐔𝐔 🐺🍃

The Xianzhou Yaoqing's Merlin's Claw and one of the Seven Arbiter-Generals. Unconventional and straightforward, she exudes effortless charm. She is skilled in all forms of martial arts and has honed herself into a supreme weapon. She is widely adored by Xianzhou soldiers and civilians alike as "The Vanquishing General." However, she bears the burden of the Moon Rage affliction. If she were to hunt down all the abominations in her limited lifetime — then the only enemy Feixiao has would be herself.

Many students theorize whether or not Feixiao!yuu might be a descendant of a divine beast due to their abilities is nothing like a regular beast man possessed.

Fei xiao!yuu presence at NRC is like a swift breeze cutting through a stagnant room—elegant, precise, and utterly untouchable. Despite their quiet confidence and disciplined nature, their overwhelming speed and combat prowess make them a mystery to both students and staff alike.

Would never appear late, would go towards a morning jog and workout, and by far it's already 10 minutes before class started immediately get ready and run at max speed to make it to class. And when they made it a huge gust of wind swipe the entire class causing multiple papers books flying around due to how fast they're running.

The strongest beast man in the entire school Leona even acknowledged it, but wouldn't say it out loud. Fei Xiao!yuu has the capabilities to go head on head with malleus and have a large possibility of winning and for Lilia he even admits that fei Xiao!yuu would be able to take him down even during his prime. And during their first encounter with Leona after stepping on his tail before he could swing his leg fully it was caught mid air by them, telling him hitting someone for something so small is not nice.

One day, they challenged half of Savanaclaw to a sparring match and won, causing a massive uproar. Many savanaclaw students respect and admire fei Xiao!yuu calling them big sister or big brother.

They find subjects like History of Magic and Alchemy frustrating but people would still consider their grades Average or above but any hands-on subject is where they shine. They are particularly skilled in Spelldrive, often dominating matches with their speed and strength.f

Fei xiao!Yuu completes assignments with precision but never overcomplicates things. Prefers to finish work quickly and move on, often seen vanishing right after class like a phantom.

Epel mentor and big sibling, Feixiao!yuu would train grim upon physical abilities on many forms of martial arts as well how to wield some weapons causing a boost upon his strength able to take down multiple savanaclaw students. Which shocked vil.

The fastest amongst all the students or the world, every time they run or use their speed wind will follow them as well when they're running time seems to stop or move slower but they're just running faster than anything ( basically super speed ) and if they infuse their speed with their wind ability can make a tornado that sucks everything good for cleaning up debris or messes.

Students often turn their heads for a moment, only to find feixiao!yuu has disappeared without a sound. Even the cameras have a hard time catching them

Can avoid detection effortlessly, slipping past rule-enforcing Riddle or nosy Rook. However, Malleus and Lilia always seem to sense them, much to their irritation.

As well their skilled on multiple weapons impressed multiple students like rook and Lilia. When rook was practicing his archery Feixiao!yuu was wondering around walking at high speed noticed something wrong with rook stands and corrected him, Rook challenged them to demonstrate their abilities towards the bow and managed to shoot a leaf from a mile away where it's impossible to see or hit even experience hunters would have trouble.

Lilia also requested them to train some dismonia students and they accepted knocking multiple students soon a showdown happened between him and Feixiao!yuu it ended at a time, but at the time Lilia immediately knows Feixiao!yuu holding back afraid to hurt him in full strength

During any battle or fighting an overblot, feixiao!Yuu remains calm and focused. They treat Overblotted dorm leaders like a worthy adversary rather than a monstrous threat, Like a challenge.

Fei Xiao!yuu flying Aureus rarely appear due to them holding back because they know that these people are inexperienced but would use flying aureus only for emergencies. the first time they summon the spirit it was riddles overblot.

Similar towards their ultimate, fei Xiao!yuu would summon a tornado stunting riddle and send powerful punches towards his body and compress all the air in the tornado, as well summoning flying aureus to boost their strength sending riddle down to the ground creating a large crater Destroying the garden completely.

And this is how the theory of them is a descendant of a divine beast. Many would immediately stop and greet fei Xiao!yuu in the middle of the hallway. Which amused them.

Some students would try to lift up fei Xiao!yuu signature axe but no one has ever able to do it, even malleus trying to lift up the weapon. Fun fact Crowley forbade them from using their weapon at school so they mostly use their arms during battle, due to the risk of cutting the student who was overbloting.

Fei Xiao!yuu would never tell anyone about their moon rage curse afraid that they would distance themselves but as well hurt them, so when moon rage is happening during the middle of the battle fei Xiao!yuu tend to take it too far to the point of injuring the student after it they secluded themselves towards an empty place to meditate trying to keep their instinct under control.

The first years started to get worried why fei Xiao!yuu seem to be avoiding them so they follow them and find them meditating and when ace taps their shoulder, fei Xiao!yuu was still in a state of moon rage and pin ace down on the floor twisting his arm, his scream woke them up from the state. Good thing ace arm is fine but fei Xiao!yuu is more distant, they tried to Conor fei Xiao!yuu but they were too fast for them after catching up fei Xiao!You finally confess about their curse.

During malleus overblot thanks to their moon rage, fei Xiao!yuu manage to wake up and immediately go head to toe with malleus but during the battle fei Xiao!yuu is still in the moon rage mood so they have no self control or are aware of what's going on.