#which means he could be high fe

[missbutterworthless]

[i’m not a violent dog. i don’t know why i bite.]

The lead singer of BOTB’s Season 4 projected underdogs, Arlo Beck of Penny Arcade, declined further comment in regards to the threatening of a member of the media when questioned about former band mate and fellow competitor, Seven Lawless of Soft Violence.

Further Info Under the Cut!

TW for mentions of addiction 🫶

Introducing Arlo Beck, lead singer of Penny Arcade, a pop punk band of humble origins known most for their musically delivered political commentary and their revenge anthems (it is of particular note that such anthems were not common in the Lawless Era, with the band leaning far more heavily into charged love songs. Which could mean nothing.)

Fun Facts!

Beck is an Aquarius!

According to an insider source, beyond singing, Beck is quite capable with the ocarina.

Beck is known to juggle at any and every opportunity, regardless of who may or may not be watching. (He is apparently rather talented as well.)

Beck is known for accessorizing with heart motifs, noted by a previous local publication to be a nod to fellow bandmate Rowan Hart.

Beck often carries a bottle of quick dry black polish for ‘manicure emergencies’. He is known to have addressed such emergencies while on stage after chipping a nail during a performance.

Beck is often cited as the source for Penny Arcade’s ‘gimmick’ of collecting loose change in collection bins during a dedicated song at every performance. The change is then matched and donated to queer and at risk youth. Beck remains firm that every member of Penny Arcade, past and present, is equally responsible.

Picture Easter Eggs and more Fun Facts!

Arlo is wearing a WWOD? bracelet in the pic! The band got together to make bracelets with Orion’s most recent catchphrase while waiting for filming to start. Arlo made his particularly fruity. He also made a keychain version for Orion.

The time on Arlo’s phone is a nod to MCx7. Seven is, well, 7. And Arlo is 1 & 2 because his initials are the first and second letters of the alphabet. Hence, 7:12.

Arlo’s initial tattoo utilizes the S in SD as an infinity symbol. He acknowledges it is cringy. And poetically tragic.

Not shown is his tongue piercing, which Orion chewed him out for getting because his tongue was swollen and his speech slurred for nearly two weeks!

As stated above, he likes to wear motifs of his band members! Because he is a doofus! Most common because it’s his daily accessories is a heart motif for Rowan, but he also has jellyfish pendants and vampire bite chokers for Iris and different color bee pins for Devyn depending on their hair color! Jazzy is represented in the case he carries his juggling equipment in, which he takes literally everywhere after she bought him one for his birthday years ago. He is currently racking his brain for what to do for August!

43 of the 57 missed calls on his phone were from Orion. He knows because Orion’s ringtone is I Don’t Dance from High School Musical 2.

He is heavily addicted to nicotine (to Orion’s chagrin) and became a functioning (for now) alcoholic after The Fight™️. Prior, he imbibed during social functions but never alone and never when he had plans. Up until the audition, he never partook in other substances but caved into peer pressure. Despite his snark and notorius RBF, he is a chronic people pleaser.

The eyebrow slit is a scar from slicing his eyebrow open in Lucy’s diner after crashing head first into the dish station and shattering a plate. With his face. The scar is almost entirely faded but he can no longer grow hair there. He’s actually really insecure about it and has considered getting the spot microbladed.

That’s all for now folks! I mostly wanted to share my art :) I adore @infamous-if and have been playing with Arlo as my MC since Day 1! He finally fully clicked in my head and after days of attempting to find a face claim or craft him in the sims I decided to crack open Ye Olde iPad and do it myself!

Please feel free to share any fun facts about your own Infamous OCs! Regretfully my friends stay firmly opposed to interactive fiction so I am starved for fellow Infamous fans

[spoiled-fawn]

Meeting Johnny

Western AU; Mail Order Spouse Trope

WC: 2,726 CW: None

AN: I'm alive! Sorry this is so short, this was a good stopping point and I need to work on my world-building for Soap before getting to the next part. Just know- I haven't given up on this AU (It's literally my firstborn, blood, and soul, but I will be a bit slow until my brain juices stay flowing. I hope ye enjoy <3

Please see the Introduction for the explanation and precursors to the scene.

Introduction, Biography

--------

Johnny’s proposal to you was quick in terms of a few letters exchanged; three letters in, he invited you to come out and sent you enough money to figure out accommodations to get to him. As soon as you read those words at the post office, you ran home high on endorphins and adrenaline began packing your bags without grandiose care in the world. The fire inside you licked at the bottom of your heart, anger at staying in this shithole for far too long and feeling a sense of belonging- the sense of feeling wanted to make you have an ulterior purpose in life as if a phoenix reborn and spreading its wings while nose-diving into the unknown. When your parents came home as you zipped your bags, you sincerely couldn’t give a flying fuck as you shoved past them and began berating your parents with a grand show of a public yelling match for the neighbors to hear. 

Good for you! 

You had already planned how to get to him after receiving his first letter back; First step, buying a train ticket that led you to Santa Fe, New Mexico. From there, you had to embark on the Gila Trail, before having to buy your horse and head out on the San Diego Crossings wagon road by yourself. 

This trip was a long haul, and you prayed that Johnny would trust in your quickly established faith to wait out for you. The promise of a strong and loving man is all you could think about...

While in your adrenaline-filled escape, you hadn’t plucked the book in your room that hid his photo as a bookmark, but thankfully had grabbed the letter that gave you his directions. While you scavenge your mind to have a solid image of him, you think over his features and re-read the letters countless times.

Johnny has a background of all sorts, having grown up in a family that held their bond strong, especially after his father had passed in a mining cave-in, which rendered him the man of the house from a young age. Even in his brief telling of these events, you could tell he’s moved out to California to find a deeper meaning of himself, create the line in concrete for it to harden as he ages. 

That isn’t to say that he has lost his sense of boyishness, not at all in fact. His stories that he wrote even contained small doodles along the borders to better depict what he was writing about, and it was half your mind to cut them out and keep them as little bookmarks or place them in your wallet as a keepsake. He was playful, writing jokes about the smallest things, even letting you in on some secrets about the people in his town before you got there.

While the sense of his flame burned hot in multiple directions, deep in his hearth was a passionate man. Just as he seemed so sweet, with a flick of his wrist the writing would turn into something hot enough to make you blush, averting your eyes as your mind ran wild with his thoughts. He seems to enjoy a bubble bath… but maybe only when you’re in it with him. Even writing about the future and him stating he wants a family by any means, you could only imagine a deep possessiveness inside of him to claim you as such. Even if you were able to have his biological children or not, he’d still make sure you felt like you did.

But back to your journey. 

The course of the trains provided you an oversight of the new lands you had yet to ever see, as it was the beginning stages of territories turning into states. The rides were long, and adjusting to the set time zones was a large throw-off to your circadian rhythm. Having already traveled two states west, it was difficult to decide on which line would grant you the fastest access to Johnny. Luckily enough, a kind person in the Denver station helped point out that taking the route from northern Nevadah into California would grant you the fastest time, and ease your solo traveling. 

The kind person stated that they were in a similar situation and now waiting for the train, having a bit of time to offer some advice while making it toward their end goal. Thanking them with bountiful wishes and good luck’s in their journey, you were on your way.

It took four more days to find yourself in Temecula, California. An astonishing change from the desert lands that reflected the sun so brightly now showed the capabilities of a plush environment of greenery and clouds. The train station was reached as the sunlight began pouring in over the mountains; being quick on your feet, and from the other settlers being far too tired, you found a deal on the last remaining horse available. 

Traveling by horseback prompted challenges with reading Johnny's directions, and you did not want to admit that you were lost. The lack of directory and signage left you getting flustered already by noon and being left alone in such a rural area in between towns felt far more daunting than any part of this trip. Passing by stagecoaches who all seemed to know their way around, you filed in line through a secondary road filled with houses in the valley of the small mountains.

Three hours later and a small urge to cry while having given up on re-reading the letter, you accepted defeat when you saw someone sitting on their porch down a dirt road with his house being the only one there.

“Hi! Excuse me, sir?” The sound of your voice breaks through the stillness of the settling valley, enough to make the man look up from the table he is currently hunched over.

“Would you mind helping me out by giving me directions?” Willing yourself to not blush or shrink into your large coat, embarrassment running through your chest while in the new environment.

For a moment, the man doesn't seem to acknowledge you, having to do a double take before his eyes widen in surprise. The toothpick that was delicately hanging on his lip falls to the ground, less he even notices before he sits up straight readjusting his hat, and clears his throat.

“‘Course, my dear. How can I be of service.” His accent is rich, leading you to believe that he’s been raised in the West, and has a perfectly smooth twang to his speech as it leaves his side smile.

“I’m looking for the country store… There’s supposed to be an old Coke sign on it.” The words leave you in a higher pitch than you’d normally speak, having a handsome stranger stare at you with a wide-eyed stare as he watches your lips move. “And to be honest- I wouldn’t know if I’m in the right place to begin with.” 

As if snapped back to reality again, eye contact cut short as he blinks before looking down the road and then back to you. “Ah, store’ way down yonder with a crossing sign. If yer’ headed west then a left will take you to the interstate,” A nod confirms his sense of confidence in his directions, explaining it plain and simple as the roads that his house lies on.

The smile that crosses your face lights your eyes, and it's the most relief you’ve gotten ever since getting on horseback. “Thank you, I really do appreciate it.” Your hands pull on the reigns of the horse, already turning around to try and beat sunset before it's too dark to ride alone.

Before you’re out of earshot, “When you’re in, you gotta stop and ask Ms. Bell for somma’ her sweet tea. But remember, take a right, and you’ll end up right back here to me.” The wink that leaves him makes you question if you’re seeing things in the late light of the day, but you’re sure he can see the blush that burns your cheeks.

A laugh leaves you before nodding in response, now clicking your horse into a quick trot while you’re high on the adrenaline from the interaction. Well… at least you have a backup plan in case your bachelor doesn't work out.

Arriving far too quickly than you’d expect, the store was only a few minutes down the road and concealed by a line of trees. Hitching your horse and walking into the store on stiff legs, you plan on following the stranger's advice to get some sweet tea.

The bell above the door jingles as you walk in, catching the attention of the older woman behind the counter. Here eyes take in your form, surprised such a fresh-faced person has arrived this late into the day. “How can I help you, sweetheart?” Her voice rings out a bit rough, someone who knows how to pull her weight if trouble would arrive.

“I’m actually looking to get to someone's home near town, but I was told to make my way from this store to not get lost.” A pause as your eyes take in the scenery of the rustic store; A layer of dust settled onto the wooden floors as shelves are stocked with an assortment of canned goods, spices, and a few refrigerators labeled as eggs and milk. “Met a stranger on the way and was told I should get some sweet tea here, too.”

Her eyes, still studying you as you speak and noting your accent, or lack thereof, bring a small quirk to her face. “Well, lemme get you some of my tea while you get yourself found.” Leaving her seat she makes her way to a wall in the back, pulling out two large mason jars with a light brown liquid. 

“That stranger you met- was he small ways up north fr’mere?” The smile on her face grows as she walks back to her seat at the register as you walk forward to meet her.

“Yes… A lone house down a single road. Blue eyes, brown hair, and some stubble.” The answer is pulled from you automatically, reciting the mental image of him.

“Toothpick in his mouth?”

The question is almost absurd in how spot-on she is, but then again this is a very small town. “Yes.”

The answer makes her laugh, somewhat un-ladylike when compared to the women from your home, and the noise makes you startle in place for a second.

“That damn Johnny makes me work my ass off to keep this tea in stock. He’s been so stressed waiting for his person to come ‘nd has been drinking me straight out of this stuff.” She levels when calming down for a moment, now placing the jars in bags.

She has yet to look back up at you and fails to notice your limbs seemingly frozen in place as the air leaves your lungs. That was Johnny?

“I’m so sorry ma’am. Did you say that was Johnny? As in MacTavish?”

The rustle of the brown paper bags stops, her eyes darting up to find yours. “Well, I’ll be damned.” She murmurs lowly before a sly smile takes over her face. “You’re here, and you’re damned too good from what you made yourself out to be, sweetheart.” 

Still frozen with your mind reeling, adrenaline begins to pump back into your bloodstream while a jolt alights your muscles. “Oh- I’m so sorry ma’am, I must get going its getting late and-”

The sliding of the jars on her counter interrupts your rambling, “Ah ah, its Ms. Bell dear, and you best be taking this with you to him. Don’t worry bout nothin’ but I’m happy to welcome you to the town.” 

If you looked now, you could notice the tremor in your hands. Nodding and taking the bag, a rush of endless ‘thank you��s’ and an elated smile seats itself permanently before loading the bags on the saddle and turning back around to start galloping forward back towards where you once were.

—

The sound of horses and wagons isn’t a constant to Santa Ysabel during the night hours, usually only occurring after the dayshift ends. As Johnny sits on his porch, his mind muddled with confusion as he stews over his soon-to-be partner arrives, thoughts of the stranger asking for directions makes him confused.

Fresh toothpick in his mouth as he widdles away at a bar of tallow, working to pull off glycerine for work. Surely that wasn’t a coincidence, right? The picture you sent was muddled down with water stains, and he blamed it on the damn train that sent your envelopes out this way. It was beginning sunset, and though he couldn't make out most of your features because of the coat you concealed yourself in- 

The bar of soap drops to the ground and he curses, now jumping out of his mind and into the present. 

The sound of hooves beating and approaching make him look up.

There, Here, you’re back again and the whites of your teeth are illuminated by the fading sun to show your smile.

Slowing down your horse to a stop, breathing in a slight pant as compared to your horses, the smile never leaves you.

“Figure you need some more directions, sweetheart?” His drawl leaves him, standing to make his way towards you. 

“Take off your hat.” The response is curt, and demanding in a way, but that glimmer of excitement makes it sound so sweet.

Johnny himself is befuddled for a moment, eyebrow cocked but complies anyway. Now raising the hat off of his head and holding it to his chest, his eyes answer for him. This what you wanted?

A small sound of excitement leaves you, nodding before your leg swings over your saddle, dismounting with a small jump and walking forward.

“Johnny, it's me.”

A swear leaves his mouth, accompanied by a rush of air before he drops his hat to the side and plucks hit toothpick out with it. The smile that coats his face makes him appear so young and boyish at heart as he moves forward with arms open to wrap around your hips with a low growl, “C’mere you,”

You could be embarrassed by the small squeal that leaves you, but you couldn’t give a rat's ass on anything right now. He spins you around for a quick moment, arms around your body as he lifts you easily with his strength.

Staring down into his eyes, you grab a shoulder while the other hand cups his jaw. “Didn’t know it was you until Ms. Bell said something.”

He laughs, head tilting back in bewilderment at the situation and excitement. “Talkin bout her sweet tea?” He asks while setting you down on your feet, hands never straying as he pulls you against him and traverses over your body.

“Yes, gave me some to bring home.”

The use of home sparks his heart with a bright thrum, butterflies encasing his stomach while he rumbles out a laugh. The texture of his hands is both soft and ruff, his thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones before one hand moves to brush over your hair, cupping the back of your neck.

“Well, in that case, welcome home, sweety.” The rumble sends a shiver down your spine, eyes darting over his face before settling on his lips. A breath settles before you look back into his sharp blue eyes, as he looks at you seemingly waiting for permission.

A small nod of your head and gently pulling him towards you, the band on the back of your head pulls you forward as he brings your lips together. The taste of him has a spice to it, the favor of cinnamon cotes his lips and brings a slow burn over yours while his body’s warmth brings another wave.

The stubble of his beard rubs your face- and it's a welcome feeling as compared to the winds of the valleys whipping past you. Something you’d gladly leave your skin bright red and raw from hours of the feeling.

Before growing too heated, you part with a small gasp and trail him slightly before blinking to find his smirk growing as a low rumble vibrates against you. “Let's get you settled in, then we can celebrate s’more.”

--------

[Who do you all think the reader met at the train station? If you get the song reference for their meeting you get two gold stars! I hope yall enjoy.]

[lynn-tged-posting]

tged webtoon ep 159 spoilers and thoughts below the cut yep just the usual

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JAVIERS FACE LMFAO "wow. these people are so weird. thank god im the only normal person here" jesus christ this entire estate is insane /aff

also i think im required to inform that i sent this panel to some of my irls because they're also civil engineers, and i asked if they recognized any of this and they said "oh god yeah"

so we can pleasantly confirm that the adaptor/artist are still referencing real civil engineering stuff!

while we're still here at the start of the ep/my thoughts i do wanna say, the whole "ugly" gag is getting. a little too well worn

it is really well drawn! the artist is very skilled at drawing exaggerated expressions and its always fun to see, but i think this is like the third or fourth time now that this has been used, and i think my brain is just tired of the repeated schtick. i dont hate it, but the funny has moved on for me

i really hope that in this next arc we see a return of a devilish or conniving lloyd, rather than silly "ugly" expressions; its funny when he looks stupid but id like a better balance, which means i want more instances of him looking cool and smart as hell!!!

of course these words will. probably fall on deaf ears its not like i can message the artist/adaptor directly lmfao but yknow its the thought that counts i guess. actually i might be using that phrase wrong not sure

ANYWAY ANYWAY verkis looks so pretty here,, i like that he confirmed lloyds intentions w the jewel of truth . truly a man who wants to do Nothing thats so real of him me too bud

AND THENNN my personal favorite peak of the episode THE SWORDMASTER SYNDROME KICKING IN AAAAAHHH AAAAHHHH

IT MAKES SENSE THAT LLOYD PUSHING HIS MANACIRCLES TO THE LIMIT WOULD BE THE LAST PUSH HE NEEDS TO BECOME A HIGH LEVEL SWORD EXPERT and now hes suffering the consequence of not dealing with this earlier </3 get overstim'd idiot shouldve taken a break before this happened bozo!!! /j

i really really REALLY love how the text and the effects were drawn in these panels and the following ones (thats three reallys!!!)!! the visual echo and then the sudden sharp jaggedness, it really shows how much OUCH and impact it has and i really really love it YEAHHHH PUT LLOYD THROUGH THE WRINGER YEAHHH YEAHHH

AND THEN JAVIER KEEPS LOOKING SO FUCKING HAPPY THROUGHOUT THIS EPISODE PLEASSEEJ LKAJDFLKSJDFLKJSDFLK JHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH he's having a grand ol time lmfao now his noble can experience what he had to go through!!!

ALSO ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW THE VERY FIRST THING THAT LLOYD LOOKS AT WITH HIS NEW HEIGHTENED VISION IS JAVIERS FACE AND HOW PERFECT IT IS HELLO HELLO HELLO HELLO you could have looked at anything else and yet the first thing you narrow in on is javiers face IM SHAKING YOU LLOYD

no seriously wow he's so pretty ALSO THE FUCKING. HAND POSE IM CRYING

also its really really fluffy nice that javier helped lloyd with getting used to his senses! though they couldnt really do anything abt his insomnia

i had heard that some really cute moments got cut from the novel in this little timeskip here which is like awww i wish we got to see it like, that short bit with the "ugly" gag could have been replaced with the moments from the novel and itd still fit the episode length! at least i think

(like i was told that lloyd gets called "good boy" by javier. like. WHAT. WHAT. GOOD BOY??? GOOD BOY??? AND THAT GOT CUT?????? GOOD BOY!?!?!?!? i told my irls abt this and we collectively had a stroke i wish it made it in bc javiers face when saying that and lloyds reaction wouldve been PRICELESSSS)

oh but also back to talking about javier helping lloyd out, i think its really really cute,,, i know its not explicitly said or shown but i want to think that javier is able to repay the lullaby in a sense by doing this. i really like that javier not only depends on lloyd, but lloyd depends on javier too, and they can rely on each other. thinking about that makes my heart warm and my feet kick and then i start giggling like a maniac

anyway few month timeskip and lloyd u look tired as hell im so sorry buddy

though honestly i really like how he looks in this panel for some reason HAHAHAHA idk him just looking grumpy and tired is fun bc u dont really see it that often u usually see him being silly or evil more so this is a nice panel to have heehee

disgruntled tired sleep deprived engineer now aint that the realest STEM experience ever,,, shaking ur hand lloyd i get u i understand

AND THEN THE END OF THE EP HI RAPHAEL the angel arc!! i guess!! idk the names of these arcs

i wonder how he'll try to enforce this,,, and i wonder how lloyd will get out of it,,, like did tkobai ever go over the angels and what they do? does lloyd know about them?

i did see pics of what he looks like from the novel and we were SO robbed of very pretty long wavy hair, it seems the artist just chopped it all off,,, uueueueueuee

i posted abt this on twitter already but my singular cope is that we actually just havent seen the rest of his hair and its just in a ponytail and its like really really thin and we'll see the rest of his hair soon trust <- copium pumping

and a bonus little illustration, happy chuseok!!!

thats all from me!!!!!!! IM REALLY EXCITED TO SEE WHERE THIS ANGEL ARC GOES and whether or not lupellan and wrot,,,, whatever his name was are going to interfere also,,, triple clash!!! also if he'll ever overcome his insomnia,,,

see yall next week :3

[sxturnrjpple]

hirano typology analysis <3

okay, everyone! let's start off from this page first thing first.

as you can see he's typed estj 1w2 but let's go further in this:

estjs are te-fi si-ne axis based which means his te and his si need fi and ne to function (this axis is applied for ti-fe se-ni as well and goes both ways).

(for anyone who doesn't know how this works: cognitive function in a stack of 8 make a type AND it's shadow type (your "opposite" type) as you can see in the screenshot up there functions are set this way: introvert > extr. > intr > extr. OR extr. > intr. > extr. > intr.)

let's start with his dom-aux stack

honestly, i believe he's an estj as well so im going to stick with this typing.

his dominant function is Te, i think this guy has an unbearable amount of Te here 😭

up to now I've noticed he is:

- rational

- more in his head than his heart

- pragmatic

- focused on efficiency

- very responsible

- direct (says what he thinks in your face even if it might hurt you (for ex. like when he rejected kagi for the first time)

as for his Si, which is high as well, this is what I've noticed:

- respects traditions (doesn't mean he supports them but he has nothing against them)

- sense of duty and responsibility

- he needs structure and order

- he's loyal

- resistant to major changes

- stubborn

- tidy

actually about his dominant function (between Te and Si) i have something to say about his Fi in the tert-inf stack. i think he uses much more Fi than Ne so I'd move it to tert. position and put Ne in inf. that'd make him an istj tho. in the latest chapter we can see how he thinks it's "right" not to stop Kagi from moving on but it's not an action of pure morality since sensei's shown us his whole reasonment. we can see that it's more of a "rational morality" which in a in a typology aspect is clearly Te and Fi working together. Still, i think both an istj and estj typing are correct since there's only a difference in the functions positions (estj: Te-Si-Ne-Fi istj: Si-Te-Fi-Ne).

okay now comes my fav part of typology!

enneagram, tritype and instinctual variants!

im gonna note them here so I don't have to scroll up over and over again.

enneagram: 1w2

tritype: 152

instinctual variants: so/sp

alright, so. I'd make some changes here.

first thing, his enneagram. i think e1 is correct for him since e1 is a perfectionist who thinks they have some kind of mission, they're usually systematic and responsible (in his case his self-given mission could be helping kagi with his studies for ex.) while for his w2, i honestly don't know because e2s help others out of a personal gain (to feel better about themselves) which I don't think is hirano's case because he genuinely helps others even if he doesn't get anything in return. he could be a 1w9 in my opinion. type 9s look for harmony and peace and fear having their harmony shaken/broken which could be related to his change avoidance? i think it's surely better than 1w2 (since type 2s are subconsciously selfish and he isn't selfish at all).

tritype: i think it's correct, although I wouldn't type him an e5 since he's not shown us he likes to collect knowledge "just because"

instinctual variants: I don't think so/sp is accurate, he's probably an sx/so. from my point of view it's like he values his close relationships more, by this i mean it's like he's completely comfortable with only one person (which is kagi) and I wouldn't change the social typing

we reached the end of my analysis!

it's probably confusing since my thought process is very messy to begin with, I'm sorry if it seems like that 😭

cyaa <3

[randomnameless]

Unlocking the rapport convo between Ramona'n'Yunifee where they tackle the "mom by adoption" thing after Yunifee says that they're not really parent and child (apologising for accidently calling her mom!) and ultimately acknowledging and accepting their feelings for each other :

I couldn't help but compare how heavy-handed Fe Fodlan, even if it's more lampshaded in FEH, tries to sell the "uwu Lonato is Ashe's adopted son", or Ashe sees him as such.

Because it has no fall out or no acknowledgment from Ashe in AM, when Lonato basically goes :

"You stand against me and disagree with the nonsense I'm sprouting? I won't try to reason you, but I will "put an end to this" "

Which is even more lampshaded in Dimitri's battle convo :

Your Highness... I cannot stop here. For my child, and for the people of Fódlan.

Lonato cannot stop fighting for his child... even if it means to kill his other child (or adopted son, he sees Ashe as "lesser" than Christophe because Ashe isn't his blood son?).

I know FEH is allergic to having Fodlan characters react to the events that happen through the course of the game(s) save for 2 notable characters (and even then, I don't remember if Pre TS Dimitri talks or even muses about Boar!Mitri) but can you imagine someone who only plays FEH, who is hammered with Ashe's "wow Lonato is so great he adopted me when I was someone who stole from him I want to be a great knight just like he was!", play FE16 and not be disappointed with Ashe's lack of comments/consideration/realisation that his "oh so awesome" father figure... was willing to cut him down to avenge "his child"'s memory?

Morad feels like shit in UO after having tried to attack his adopted daughter/sister Yunifee while being berserked, and the devs designed a "bad" ending by implying berserk!Morad/Ramona kill Yunifee if Alain doesn't liberate Bastorias so there is a pay-off to the "those people share an important bond!" in the story, even if it's not a blood-bond.

In Fodlan ? Even in the post TS, when you had him fight against the dude who was in to "avenge his child", Ashe will never comment on Lonato not seeing him as "his child" despite him considering him to be his adopted father, to the point of seeing his life as expendable if it meant fighting for Christophe's sake.

Hell, we have some instances where he mentions he wants to become a "great" knight like Lonato which is... Yeah :/

I'd say we could blame FE Fodlan (FE16 in this case) for not giving mandatory conversations/deployment and all, but, idk, after this exchange, it feels like Nino post-Sonia's defeat, is still harping around on how "great" of a mother she was.

FFS, in FE5/9/10 we had special interactions when children were supposed to fight against their parents, either they don't fight, kid switches sides and joins their parent on the opposite side and becomes a red unit, or the parents becomes a punching ball and never retaliates against the blue unit kid.

In Fodlan, Nino will never realise that Sonia never loved her.

But we're sold a version of Ashe that still believes Sonia was the bestest knight ever, and wants to emulate her.

[thetomorrowshow]

Whumptober 22 - Bleeding Through Bandages

title: misfortune placed these worlds in us

fandom: limited life smp

welcome back to my bad boys au!! i never expected to write more of it lol now i need to name it

cw: blood and injury, implied/referenced abuse

~

A string of whispered curses is all that escapes Grian’s lips, as he clicks on the dim overhead light.

He isn’t usually the one who gets hurt on missions—usually, it’s Jimmy. Jimmy may be the best shot in all the gang, but he’s clumsier than anyone Grian’s ever known. It’s honestly fitting that the first time they met, Jimmy was bleeding to death from a bullet to the lung.

  But now Grian’s been hit, and if he doesn’t stop it from bleeding, the others will insist on calling the mission here and heading back to the manor, which cannot happen. He already had to let himself get captured—a bullet in the thigh isn’t going to stop him.

Before he does anything—thrown into this locked closet as he was—he spits out his ear piece from where he’d been hiding it in the back of his mouth. Hopefully it still functions.

Then he shimmies his trousers off and sets to taking care of the wound.

The closet they’d put him in is by no means empty—it’s a janitor’s closet, well-stocked with cleaning supplies and essentials, and Grian grabs a roll of toilet paper off the shelf and wraps it around the bullet wound.

The bullet hadn’t gone in far, buried maybe an inch deep into his flesh. If he doesn’t try to pull it out, he should be good to go in an emergency. He can clean it and remove the bullet later—for now, he just needs to staunch the bleeding.

Even wrapping it around five times doesn’t stop the blood that blooms through the paper, so he tosses the roll to the side and roots around on a shelf, digging through the cardboard box there for any sort of rag. There’s nothing there, but the box beside it has a collection of dirty rags, some kind of polish smeared on them.

Is it worse to put this on the wound, or let it bleed freely?

Screw it, it’s got toilet paper on it. Grian puts the rag atop the toilet paper, ties it around his leg. It’s almost tight enough to be a tourniquet, with how short the rag is, which maybe should help? Grian doesn’t know enough about wounds.

He doesn’t get hurt a lot, but when he does, it rarely affects him. Mumbo has always bemoaned his high pain tolerance, ever since they were in high school together and Grian could walk away from a fight without even noticing the bruises and cuts all over him.

That was how he’d gotten a place in the Bad Boys, actually. Sixteen years old, at a corrupt high school and living with an abusive roommate, Grian had fallen into gang fights too young and had eventually gotten picked up by one.

Too many kids got lost to violence like that. Grian was just one example, amid countless others. As soon as he had enough rapport in the Bad Boys, he’d helped to establish the standard that they didn’t work with anyone under eighteen. In the past five years, Jimmy has been the only exception.

Jimmy’s eighteen, now, and he’s chosen to stick with the Bad Boys in light of his recent adulthood, likely to get closer to getting his own apartment.

Everyone has a motivation for joining up—Grian’s had been protection. He’d made far too many enemies in high school, and he’s certain that his old roommate would have no qualms about killing him if he wasn’t associated with one of the most powerful gangs in the area. 

Jimmy’s reason is his sister.

The only time he talked about her was when they first met him. Grian and Joel were fleeing a successful mission, only to find Jimmy on the ground, struggling to breathe around the bullet hole in his chest. He’d mentioned his sister, how much she meant to him, how he needed to get her safe.

As far as Grian knows, he hasn’t managed it yet. Jimmy always looks like he’s carrying a bonfire in his chest, his shoulders weighed down by the logs he keeps feeding it. He’s angry and tired and frustrated, but he never talks about why he feels that way. He just spends hours shooting at practice targets and sparring and moping around the manor, a plastic flosser always jutting out from his mouth. He leaves on weekends, presumably to go home, and always comes back in a worse mood than before.

The only thing that softens the sharp edges of his personality is feeling useful—like being on a mission. That had quickly propelled him into the strike side of the gang, despite his youth. Grian and Joel, already a team, had decided to show him the ropes, and it had turned their team of two into three as they became the only people who would tolerate Jimmy.

He isn’t a bad kid. He isn’t a bad kid at all, he just doesn’t know how to keep a lid on his emotions. He probably didn’t get a lot of attention growing up, poor kid.

Grian shakes himself from his thoughts, checks his watch. Almost midnight. Joel and Jimmy should be doing the final sweep now—they’ll be able to let him out of this closet, then they can pick up any remaining valuables and head out.

It isn’t often the three of them get assigned to a stealth mission. Grian’s not bad at them, but Jimmy’s terrible at sneaking and lying, and Joel’s more suited for sniping, so they usually handle intimidation or company deals. Grian had been relieved for the change of pace—until he was spotted. Now he just has to sit in this closet, waiting for either his team to track him down or the enemy to move him somewhere more secure.

Hopefully his team arrives first.

Grian rubs his earpiece off on his shirt, tucks it into his ear. He’s only had to stick it in his mouth once before, and it had luckily still functioned that time. He can only hope he’s had the same luck.

“Hello?” he whispers, tapping twice on it to activate the mic. “Red to Green and Yellow. Do you copy?”

“We copy,” Joel crackles back immediately. “Thought you were gonna stay silent.”

“Yeah, well. Got myself into a bit of a sticky situation. Check any closets down the fourth hall, yeah?”

“Why, did you leave something?”

“Yeah. Me.”

Jimmy unmutes just to laugh at him.

“I’m flipping you off so hard right now,” Grian says, not actually flipping anyone off. He pulls his trousers back up over his bandaged leg, buttons them. “Yeah, they grabbed me and locked me in here. They thought I was leftover from the recon mission, though, and not the start of a new patrol.”

“So the cover isn’t blown?” Joel asks.

“Nope. They’re even less on their guard, actually.”

“Cool. I’m actually heading down that hall right now. Yellow’s on the second floor, still.”

“Almost done, here,” Jimmy announces. “I’ll be back down soon.”

Grian stuffs the roll of toilet paper into his pocket and stands up, shaking out his feet. It definitely hurts to put weight on his injured leg, but he can walk it off.

The lock clicks and the door swings open just as he’s reaching up for the pull switch on the lightbulb. Joel grins at him, eyes sparkling with mirth behind his lowered sunglasses.

“Little bird locked in a cage?” he asks innocently. Grian shoves him, follows him out. He grabs Joel’s gun from the holster and clips it into his own (where his gun was confiscated from him upon being shoved into that closet).

“Hey!” “Use your spare.”

Jimmy joins them in the stairwell at the end of the hallway, and together they go down the flight of stairs. The rub of his jeans against his leg chafes his injury, but Grian just grits his teeth and rolls with it. They’re almost done, anyway. Just a quick check of the ground floor, then off to the van.

Most of the lights in the building are off, but some reason, there’s one flickering light at the bottom of the stairwell. Grian glares at it, then moves forward to take point—but Joel stops him, grabbing his sleeve and turning him around.

“What’s this?” Joel gestures to his leg.

“It’s nothing,” Grian says easily, shifting to try and hide his leg. Did it bleed through his jeans already? Maybe it’s worse than he thought. . . .

“You’re bleeding, you idiot, did you get hurt?”

“It’s barely a scratch. Come on, we’re—”

Too late. Joel unbuttons Grian’s jeans (Jimmy wolf-whistles obnoxiously), tugs them down just enough to see the dirty rag—now soaked with blood.

“Did you get stabbed?” Joel asks, dumbfounded. “Why are you walking on it?”

“It’s fine,” Grian says. “We can finish the mission, don’t worry about it—”

“You need to get back to the manor, there probably isn’t anything down here—”

Grian casts his eyes around, looking for any sort of way to distract Joel—

Jimmy’s looking on, chewing on one of those constant flossers, and seemingly without his notice, there’s blood trickling down his arm. Perfect.

“Timmy’s bleeding, too,” Grian says, nodding toward him, and Joel immediately drops Grian’s leg to turn toward Jimmy. Grian uses that opportunity to pull his trousers back up.

“What? You too? Am I surrounded by self-sacrificing morons—?”

“What?” Jimmy glances down at his arm. His eyes widen for a fraction of a second, then he hides it behind his back. “No. No, I’m not.”

Joel glares at him. “Mate, I just saw it. You’re bleeding.”

“I—” Jimmy glances around, something almost panicked seeping into his expression. “I—yeah, but it isn’t from this. It’s just—it’s just a little cut, don’t worry about it.”

Joel isn’t having any of that. He tugs Jimmy’s jean jacket off, rolls up his shirt sleeve.

Just above Jimmy’s elbow is a white bandage, wrapped around the bicep. Even in the flickering light, it’s clearly soaked through with blood, some of it seeping out around and dripping down his arm.

“What? When did this happen?” Joel asks, confused. Grian wants to know the same thing—Jimmy didn’t report running into any trouble. Was he just carrying bandages on him?

“It’s from yesterday, I’m fine,” Jimmy says. He looks like he wants to talk about it as much as he wants to eat a lemon. He looks like a tiger trying to sleep that keeps getting poked. He looks like he wants to bite Joel’s head off.

“Sorry, but I’m gonna need more information than that.”

“I fell, okay?” says Jimmy. He rolls his shirt sleeve back down, slapping Joel’s hands away. “I tripped, tried to catch myself on a wall, and caught my arm on a door hinge. It isn’t deep. Let’s keep going.”

It worked as a distraction, apparently, because Joel just shakes his head and mutters something about needing to be careful, before leading the way into the basement. But, for all it got him, Grian just feels like something’s squirming in the depths of his stomach.

Jimmy’s lying.

He won’t meet Grian’s eyes, he would barely even look at Joel. His temper, usually subdued on a mission, had flared briefly, and his hands are still clenched into fists.

He’s lying.

He didn’t fall onto a door hinge.

He probably got into a fight.

You’re supposed to report if you get into any fights with rival gangs, but most people don’t do that. Sometimes it’s embarrassment, sometimes it’s out of fear of punishment, sometimes it’s because they don’t want to be stopped from retaliating.

With Jimmy, it’s probably the latter.

So when they get back to the van, and Joel’s driving them to the manor, Grian speaks up.

“Tim, who’d you get in a fight with?”

Grian sees him stiffen in the front seat. Usually, Grian sits there, but Joel had banished him to the back in order to put his leg up.

“I—I didn’t.”

He’s definitely lying.

“Sure, and I totally didn’t get shot in the leg.”

“Wait, you got shot?” Joel demands. “I thought—geez, Grian, you should have told me, I thought it was just a stab wound or something—”

“Timmy—”

“I didn’t get in a fight,” Jimmy says hotly, turning to look out the window. “I swore I wouldn’t, remember?”

“Yeah, well, that injury wasn’t caused by a door hinge,” Grian scoffs. “People don’t fall onto door hinges, what kind of excuse is that?”

“You weren’t there! And I said—I tripped, and—”

“Sure. You just tripped badly enough that—”

“Grian?” Joel interrupts, a note of warning in his voice. “Shut up.”

The surprise of the command is enough to cause Grian to fall silent. Jimmy keeps looking out the window, uncharacteristically quiet.

No one speaks for the rest of the ride. Grian gets settled into medical and Jimmy disappears, likely for his usual bed (or, perhaps, for the gym, where he can beat on the punching bag until he’s too exhausted to be angry).

“What was that about?” Grian asks, once he and Joel are alone (and he’s hooked up to some IV fluids, his leg properly stitched up).

Joel rubs a hand across his face. “Jimmy’s definitely lying,” he says. “But . . . I don’t think he fought anyone, either. Jimmy would tell us if he got in a fight, wouldn’t he?”

“I mean, maybe. You never know with Tim.”

“Look, Grian—” Joel sits down next to him. There’s something oddly solemn in his face, something that gives Grian pause. “I—I had a friend in high school,” Joel starts. Grian restrains the snarky comment that rises to his lips.

“His name was Oli. Every time I saw him, he had a new bruise. And every time, he made up some excuse—that he walked into a door, or tripped down his front steps, or . . . or tripped, and fell onto a door hinge. Things like that, you know? It was like that every day. Until CPS got called on his family, and I never saw him again.”

The letters CPS sink deep into Grian’s mind. He gapes. Joel shifts uncomfortably.

“He still lives at home, doesn’t he?” Joel says. “He’s just a kid. And whenever he ever mentions his sister, it’s about getting an apartment so he can get her safe. I just—”

“You—you think his parents . . . what, hit him?” Grian asks, cringing.

An awkward sadness weighs down Joel’s shoulders as he shrugs. “I think . . . I think it’s possible. Really, really possible.”

That isn’t rare. In this profession, it’s not a surprise to hear of child abuse.

But . . . Jimmy?

How could anyone hurt Jimmy?

It . . . it adds up, if he thinks about it. It adds up, because isn’t Jimmy always coming in after the weekend with new bruises? Isn’t he always grumbling about clumsiness and accidents? Hasn’t Grian confronted him several times about getting into fights, and each time Jimmy had just argued with him until they both stormed out of the room?

Grian feels sick just to think of it. If Jimmy’s not safe at home, how bad had it been to incite him to seek out gang protection?

“If you’re right—and I’m not saying you are—we should help him with that apartment,” Grian says. Joel nods his agreement.

“Yeah. And soon.”

[youthereader]

Near Zero part 8.

PAIRING: cillian murphy as j. robert oppenheimer x fem!reader

SUMMARY: 1.4k words. Brought on as part of the Manhattan Project, your old physics professor sees you in a new light.

RATING: E; (no smut in this part), infidelity, age gap (10+ years), secret relationship, angst

A/N: Although based on real life characters, this is J. Robert Oppenheimer as played by Cillian Murphy, a fictional character, and does not intend to be accurate. This is merely for entertainment. We are well and truly out of fluffy territory, folks. It's going to get worse before it gets better, but I hope you stick with this one anyway. 🖤

masterlist.

Nichols asks for you again, which does not bode well, halfway through the week when tensions are high. Chain smoking as you wait for him outside his office, you cannot attempt nonchalance. His secretary gets a call and rises, pointing to the doorway like you’re a dog to be directed.

You let yourself in, still smoking. You don’t bother to sit this time, leaving the door ajar.

“Sir.”

“Was your visit to Santa Fe adequate?” Nichols asks, sitting at his desk, eyes down like last time.

You refuse the bait, exhaling through your nose. “We are quite busy, as you know.”

“But you have time to spare for other people.”

He must despise you. Which works well for you. Not needing to make a good impression means less energy spent so uselessly. Your cigarette smoulders as you inhale deeply.

“Can you close the door,” he adds. Manners are trite to him.

You oblige, remaining standing. “What is it about myself that warrants this attention, Colonel?”

Your eyes meet and he frowns ever so slightly.

“You work for the government.”

“I work for Bethe,” you reply. You cross your arms, taking another drag of your cigarette. “Or with. Whichever. It’s a team effort.”

You sarcastically give a single pump of your fist and then re-cross your arms. Nichols doesn’t react, eyes fixed on yours.

“You work for the United States and have access to top secret information other parties are interested in. Think very carefully about how you answer my questions. Your facetious behavior is noted-”

“I’m being facetious?” you retort. “You’re asking me how my little trip went, Colonel. I am but a lowly scientist in these United States.”

His eyes narrow and you smoke for half a minute in silence. You finally flick your ash in the tray on the edge of his desk. It occurs to you that you’re doing a near-perfect imitation of Kitty Oppenheimer, and not on purpose. You glance away.

“Yes, I am being facetious. Am I here to be warned that I’m being watched? I don’t see any point dancing around it. Sir.”

“We both know you’re not just a scientist. Not if you’re working for or with anyone else here,” he murmurs. “You deal with sensitive information while engaging in an affair with Dr. Oppenheimer.”

Naming it aloud makes you pull back a little, a short laugh escaping involuntarily. Your heart hammers and you don’t know where to look, feeling so strange. You pull on your cigarette.

“Mm. You mean my friendship with Robert,” you counter.

He gives a cold sort of smile. “Whatever you want to call it. It means that you work for the government, and you are close to the director of the Manhattan Project.”

“Well, okay,” you say, feigning seriousness, nodding.

You loathe being threatened when you’ve come this far already. You only ever expected this from Kitty, which was probably naïve on your part. You think of which role to play next, though you think Nichols could sniff out any disingenuousness a mile away. You don’t speak again, waiting to be dismissed.

“I wished to inform you that you will no longer be allowed to leave Los Alamos, until it is decided otherwise.”

No more running away with Robert. You smoke and nod.

“Is that it?” you ask, and he nods.

You don’t wait to be dismissed, opting to leave with cigarette once your cigarette lands in the ashtray, still lit. You exhale without looking back, marching out of the building as you seethe.

-

Robert brings flowers, quite unexpectedly. They are daisies, wrapped in paper, tied with yarn. You take them and usher him into your house under the cover of darkness.

“No-one saw me,” he murmurs, and you put a finger to your lips.

You push aside the curtain covering the tiny window at your front door, peeking out into the street. It’s after midnight but you feel watched nonetheless. There seems to be no sign of life from your neighbors. Still, you feel as if he can’t have slipped out from the watch of one of the many guards on each block.

Robert’s cockiness lessens whatever fears he has, if there ever have been any when it comes to people knowing about you. He agreed to come tonight in a short, whispered conversation by your desk, in between examining your papers.

You can see by his face that something bothers him, he often looks this way after a long day. He is burdened with responsibility, but he keeps looking at you instead of somewhere to the side; this is different. He doesn’t seem pensive.

It’s after midnight and he is wide awake, as are you. Sleep is harder to come by than ever. You sit beside one another on your bed, his hand still holding the bouquet of daisies.

“This will hurt,” he says, and you glance at him, his free hand taking yours, twining your fingers together.

He searches your face. You wait, a knot tightening somewhere deep in your chest. The dread you felt was warranted, then. His throat bobs.

“Kitty’s pregnant.”

“Ah,” you say, eyes smarting so suddenly, as if you’ve been struck across the face.

You focus on your hands together, breath shuddering. You’re jealous, of course. Not because you wanted that for yourself, a baby, and not because you even wanted his last name. You don’t want Kitty’s life, and yet if she didn’t exist, you would be happier. You’re jealous simply because he’s not yours alone.

You smile a little, miserable. You look back at him, and his eyes are sad, too.

“It’s a surprise, I take it,” you say.

“Yes and no. At least a lot of babies are being born in Los Alamos already.”

You nod, as if the conversation turning light has helped at all, but it’s useless. You take out a cigarette, physically separating yourself from him to light it and inhale.

A couple tears fall of their own accord and you swipe them away as you clear your throat, changing the subject completely.

“Nichols grounded me.”

Robert frowns, but not enough for your liking. “Me as well. He’s always strongly advised me not to leave town.”

“That’s hardly fair,” you snap. “You were just in Chicago. And you go as you please–”

“He still does wish to control me,” Robert retorts, gentler. “Luckily I’m able to persuade others.”

A few moments you spend in silence together, his eyes on you while you look away.

“I’ve had this conversation before, or a version of it, about Kitty,” he says.

You meet his piercing eyes and blink. “With whom?”

“Jean,” he says, leaning over to put an arm around you to draw you back in. “Jean Tatlock. It was a few years ago when Kitty and I were getting married.”

You knew Kitty was married when she met Robert, everyone knew that they had an unorthodox beginning. You hadn’t known this Jean, but by how Robert spoke her name, there was a weight to it greater than most. You knew him well enough.

Your chest still hurts, especially when he rubs your arm with his thumb, your head tucked under his chin.

“I am under no illusions, Robert,” you whisper. “Let’s be mature about this. What happened, happened. This is the perfect opportunity for this to be done with this.”

You don’t want to be responsible. You want to scream about how unfair this is, when really you had no choices to begin with. He is married, and not to you! You are a fool in love. You’re saying everything a better person would say, someone unlike you.

Robert hums in agreement, stroking your arm. You become yourself again, lingering in his touch just that bit longer, closing your eyes to focus on the sensation.

“Would it bother you if I slept with someone else?” you ask.

“Yes, terribly,” he says instantly.

You let out a short, wet laugh. “You’re impossible.”

Your chest heaves again and you crane your next to see his face again, and he’s looking back at you. He presses a slow kiss to your lips, cupping your cheek. You pull back before you can’t, sniffling.

“You’re impossible,” you say again, sighing.

When Robert leaves some time later, after sitting together becomes too unbearable, you watch him walk away. Cigarette smoke trails behind him and you see the rest of the street void of life, and yet it mocks you. Its lack of light taunts, you are still awake.

You turn away from the window, walking back to your bed, spying the flowers again. You pierce one of the petals with your thumbnail until it detaches, your eyes swimming with tears.

taglist: @indulgence-be-thy-name, @forgottenpeakywriter, @amiets2 (hmu if you'd like to be added)

[pacifymebby]

I’ve had the WORST day and I just know that a big snuggly bear hug from Alfie would fix me!

I hope u are okay bestie love u xxx

🐻 Alfie anon

Aww bestie no what's happened come rant to me!!!

Also, u didn't ask but...

🐻 Alfie is so in tune with your emotions that at around 11 o'clock that morning he just had a sense that something was wrong, that you were having a bad day. He would have been scowling about it all morning knowing there was nothing he could do until he saw you that evening...

🐻 and as the day progressed and your day got worse his day got worse too so that by the time he could finally go home to you he was certain you must be truly miserable.

🐻 so on his way home he swipes a bottle of Solomons best rum and stops at several stalls down Camden market before he returning to you. It means it takes him slightly longer to get home and that does irritate him because he's anxious to get home to make sure you're alright...

🐻 and when he does get home he finds you in the kitchen, you look so tired out it breaks his heart, he can see it in your eyes that you're upset, so frustrated you're on the verge of tears and before you can say anything he's set the flowers he brought for you down on the table with the rum and your favourite sweet treat from the bakery which he waited an extra ten minutes for so that it would be fresh and warm.

🐻 When he approaches you he's gentle, let's out a sigh and opens up his long coat to welcome you into a cosy embrace. He closed it around you and hugs you snug and tight letting you bury your face in his shirt.

🐻 it doesn't take very long for you to start crying and when you try to stop yourself and say sorry he just shushes you.

🐻 "now now ziskeit, we'll have none of that, this is what am here for ain't it poppet so you just carry on an let it all out alright my little ziskeit," he hushes you talking gently as he keeps you snug and wrapped up in his coat, your head held against his chest as he bows his and kisses your forehead.

🐻 he'll hold you for as long as it takes for you to get your frustration and tears out of your system shushing you and kissing your head until you've stopped crying. When you're just sniffling and wiping your eyes he'll catch your hands in his and brush the last of your tears away with his thumbs before letting you go from his coat. You don't really want to let go and he doesn't really want to let you go but he's got plans, knows exactly how to relax you after a difficult day...

🐻 "Don't you look at me like that ziskeit," he told you waggling his finger at you with a teasing little smile, "cause see I reckon I know exactly how to cheer you up yeah, after your long an 'orrible day right and my plans do unfortunately involve you letting go of me for a minute or two yeah? I know poppet I know, pains me too really and truly it's agony yeah, right here I feel it right here.." he says prodding himself in the chest to emphasise his point before catching your cheek in his hand and brushing his thumb over your skin, making you look up at him when he finishes his orders, "but I promise you it'll be worth it so... Go and get the blankets yeah, and Cyril get Cyril... Can't let our old boy miss out on this alright..."

🐻 so you do as your told, fetching the blankets from your bed, bringing Cyril down following your footsteps to the little living room where Alfie's set the fire going and closed the curtains. It's dimly lit and the heat of the fire flushes your cheeks. He' plated up your baked goods and poured two glasses of rum, brought the bottle in too.

🐻 "Ahh, there she is," he sighs dramatically when he sees you, "light of my life, my sun my stars my darling angel from on high," he says layering it on thick trying to make you squirm and blush just so he can see you smile. "Come here ziskeit, come sit in your old man's lap poppet, come tell papa all about that 'orrible rotten day of yours" he says patting his lap, waiting for you to come sit in his lap.

🐻 He feels so much better once he has you cradled to his chest, he's certain he won't be letting you up for the rest of the evening. Just wants to keep you snuggled up in his lap wrapped up in your blankets getting drunk on good rum.

🐻 "See now this is better ain't it poppet, what did I tell you eh ziskeit, you come to papa and he'll make it all better right..."

🐻 cyril would be snuggled up by your feet and he'd like nudge you with his head and let out s big huff of a sigh as if to agree that everything sucks but he's here for you too. A real ally.

🐻 He'll let you rant all about how bad your day was, encouraging you to say the bitchiest things about all the people who upset you, then teasing you for saying such bad things when you're supposed to be the sweet one. Really though he's just trying to make you smile, trying to light you up the way he likes to see you.

🐻 will pay special attention to the names of those who wronged you throughout the day, will jokingly offer to murder them for you but honestly... If something bad happens to any one of these people in the next week you will be wondering whether your Alfie had anything to do with it.

For reals bestie I hope you're feeling s little bit better after this and just know u can rant to me about Ur bad day whenever u like xxx

[amaru-sage]

About Ivy and canon divergence in the latest Engage manga chapter…

So with the recent release of chapter 11 of the FE Engage manga, there has been complaints about how Ivy was handled and how the manga is diverging from the game’s events

While I understand that different people are gonna have different interpretations of things, that still not gonna stop me from telling the people who are saying “ Ivy is being put through the damsel in distress treatment !1!! “ that YA’LL ARE BEING RIDICULOUS ❗️❗️❗️

Ivy is NOT and I repeat, NOT being put through THE DAMSEL IN DISTRESS TREATMENT

Ivy may have gotten arrested and defended by a MAN 👨 but that doesn’t necessarily mean she has been damsel-in-distressed™ 😭

NOT ONCE has Ivy been weak, pleaded for her life nor hid behind a man when she was in danger during the recent chapter.

I read a thread on Twitter where someone compiled their issues with the chapter and it mostly had to with the obvious-but-not-completely-in your-face Ivy booba fanservice (which is true ngl) and Alear’s gender 😭 bffr

During the chapter Ivy got taken down by the protag™ (like in the game) and moments before she got arrested, she pulled a valiant-sacrifice-of-a-true-leader move, and took the chance to make a leeway for her army and retainers to escape at the cost of herself.

Ivy being imprisoned isn’t something to make her look weak, but actually strong because she got herself into that place to protect her people.

OF COURSE SHE WAS GONNA GET PROSECUTED FOR HER ACTIONS AS SHE IS AN ENEMY THAT ATTACKED THE CASTLE 😭 AND THREATENED THE LIFE OF THE NEXT IN LINE HEIR ( SHE ALMOST BARBECUED DIAMANT YALL )

CONSEQUENCES OF ACTIONS™

And then comes in Alear. Y’all should know by now that Alear is a very kind hearted person and will defend/be kind to anyone as long as they see good in the person, even if the person doesn’t deserve it. And comparing his last fight with Nelucce, an Elusian army leader who used his own men as shields to protect himself, Ivy was different.

Which is why Alear goes to visit her in the dungeons, delivering her food and tells her he doesn’t think she’s a bad person (despite her actions being unforgivable; his words not mine), pointing out that she allowed her allies to escape instead of herself and put himself on front of her to stop King Morion from killing her.

ALSO JUST TO POINT OUT AGAIN that Ivy didn’t plea for her life or looked to someone (or Alear or Diamant when he was pleading his father not to kill her ) for help when King Morion pointed his sword at her.

INSTEAD she stood strong and still at the face of death with her head held high and a cold front, like the true badass she is and just accepted her fate then and there ( pretty much going ‘ whatever 😒’ not only at death but even when Alear suggested she should be put on trial )

SO IN CONCLUSION

NOT ONCE HAS IVY EVER BEEN A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS THAT’S JUST YALL DOING HER LIKE THAT 😤

(Besides, there’s still a lot of chapters left for Ivy to grow and be her cool and badass self)

And as for the manga diverging from the game’s events….

LET 👏🏽THEM 👏🏽COOK 👏🏽🗣

( I WANT TO SEE THE CHARACTERS PULL SOME ACE ATTORNEY SHIT NEXT CHAPTER)

I think the manga deviating from the source material is a good thing ACTUALLY!! as it gives its own identity and more time/space to explore the world building and characters of Elyos that the game could not

I mean we got to find out how long Clanne and Framme worked as stewards, that there exists a village around Lythos Castle, got to learn a bit of the nobles in Brodia, that there are some Fell Dragon worshippers in Brodia (and Elyos) and not just Elusia, more on Yunaka’s, Alcryst’s, Diamant’s and Ivy’s backstory/childhoods, etc., through the manga, so I’m happy and curious with the direction the manga is heading to.

Also Mama Lumera gets to live longer so LET HER HAVE THIS!!

Anyways, that’s all I got to say PEACE OUT BITCHES ✌🏽

[starlitheaven]

— LIKE A WHOLE CONSTELLATION.

nanami kento x f!reader

summary. you never imagined your hunch about your boyfriend’s taste would lead to this.

tags. established relationship, sock/stocking fetish, foot fetish, foot job, nanami is a freak, dom/sub undertones, readers feet are regarded as small but no size specified nanami just has a slight size kink, daddy kink, come eating (sort of)

note. for @thetempleofnyx & @dearestgojo 🫶🏽 this is so cursed i'm so sorry fhfisf. title from nasty by ariana grande.

wc. 2.5k+

It had started innocently enough, in your opinion. Kento is an attentive boyfriend, the most you’ve ever had, so you didn’t think much of it at first. He liked spoiling you—his love—in any way that he could. 

When he began paying for your nail appointments, you raised yourself on freshly painted toes to pepper sweet kisses over his face. It made you giddy to show off your pretty nails for him, especially when it was a color that he had chosen for you. He preferred soft pastels on you, telling you how lovely the delicate shade looked against your skin. That time, he had knelt down as you sat on the edge of the bed to inspect the fresh set closely, gently wrapping a big hand over your ankle.

Kento placed a chaste kiss over the top of your foot. Your toes had curled instinctively, unknowingly causing arousal to pool in his gut. Cute. Still, he did nothing more than rubbing a thumb over the ghost of his kiss. “This is perhaps my favorite color for you. I should get you some new heels to go with it, hm?”

Absolutely thrilled at the promise of new shoes—meaning a shopping spree all paid for by your hard working boyfriend—you thought nothing of it. Kento was a gentleman through and through, down to his very core. Him getting down to remove and place all of the shoes you tried on was just another act of chivalry from him.

Back then, you hadn’t thought about how thrilling it was for him to see a sweet color on your pretty toes that he chose and paid for while wearing heels also paid for by him.

He had been more aggressive that night, hands pressing against your soft flesh as he rammed his hips deep inside of your cunt. Back arched and ankles on his shoulders, you were too blissed out to notice him turning and groaning into your foot, completely intoxicated.

Next was the massages. Even then, you hadn’t blinked twice when Kento insisted on giving you a foot massage when you emerged from your night shower. Walking the streets of Tokyo in your work heels left your feet aching and sore, so you thought your boyfriend was an angel to relieve some of the pain. Watching your favorite dramas and sipping on merlot, you weren’t aware of the soft moans that escaped your lips when Kento’s thumbs kneaded on particular parts of your foot. It just felt good to have that tension eased and mind a little fuzzy with wine. 

Fuzzy like the lavender socks you wear at home. It felt wrong to find your cute socks so arousing, but Kento couldn’t help it. They were all endearing in various colors and fun prints. Then there were the stockings and thigh high socks that accentuated the pretty arch of your foot, making him imagine it curled over his—

Kento cleared his throat, muscled thighs spreading apart as blood began to rush down. “Feels better, love?”

“Hm?” you peeled your eyes away from the lover interest on tv making a fool of himself. It’s then that you realized your feet no longer ached from the stress of the day. Unknowingly pushing your boyfriend's limits, you wiggled your toes cutely. “Yeah, so much better, actually! Thanks, sweetheart. Want another glass?” 

Feeling hot in his own skin, Kento tersely nodded. His jaw clenched until he willed his arousal to dissipate, which was difficult when your socked feet were still perched over his thighs. 

Much like now. Those instances were the first of many, and it took you some time to notice a pattern and the changes in your boyfriend. Once you took notice, you began to test out your hunch that had felt far-fetched at first, but soon became apparent. 

Kento had a foot fetish. Your boyfriend had a foot fetish and became aroused by your feet. Not only your feet, but your socks, stockings, and tights as well. Even the dainty toe rings you experimentally bought had him pressing you up against the elevator, too impatient to wait until you were home. 

It felt perverted and depraved—words you wouldn’t use to describe Nanami Kento. But when you thought about it, it was fitting considering how lewd he can be beneath his composed exterior. It’s what you loved about him, how well he hid his freakish thoughts. Only you were privy to his desires and you’d do almost anything to indulge him. 

Determined as ever, you hadn’t expected it all to play out the way it did. It wasn’t perfectly planned out on a romantic night with you dressed in brand new lingerie and stockings. You weren’t temptingly laid out for Kento on your king sized bed with sweet scented candles lit around the room. 

Through the balcony door, the living room was bathed in an orange glow as the sun began to dip below the horizon. It was cracked open slightly, and the fresh autumn breeze had you rubbing your legs together. You two were settled on the couch in a way you often did, with Kento on one end and you on the other. He was sitting with his back against the couch facing forward, book in hand, while you sat horizontal, knees bent and feet over his lap. 

You were scrolling on your phone, stretching your legs every now and then, pushing Kento further and further until he was reading the same sentence over and over. Giving up, he glanced down with a clenched jaw at your legs. The weather was finally transitioning away from the heat of the summer into cool autumn, so you were wearing a short cream colored thick sweater dress paired with matching socks that ended inches above your knees. 

The hem of your dress had risen up with your movements, exposing more of your plush thighs that Kento wanted to bite into. But his eyes were fixed on your feet, the thin fabric of your socks accentuating the pretty shape. Preoccupied with whatever you were watching, you continued to rub against his thighs, inching higher and closer to his hardening cock. This time, Kento made no attempt to stop himself from fully hardening. 

He’d had enough. Intoxicated by your small feet right over his lap, covered in long soft cream socks, he wanted nothing more but to give in to his pleasure. 

Setting his book aside, he let out a low sigh as your heel began brushing over his cock. He was fully hard now and you immediately halted your movements when you felt the familiar thickness of his cock. Your mouth opened in a gasp. 

“What—”

“Don’t stop.”

His deep voice cut through the quiet twilight air. The only other sound was your phone plopping against the couch, having slipped from your fingers in your shock. 

Still, you stared in disbelief at what was right in front of you. The bulge of Kento’s meaty cock was right beneath the soles of your feet, hot and heavy. Had he really gotten fully hard just from this? The thought was surprisingly thrilling. 

“K-Kento? Are you sure that—”

Kento clicked his tongue in disapproval. “My love, don’t make me repeat myself.”

The authority in his voice was sharp and deep; it left no room for disobedience. It was an order despite the fact that his voice never raised from its usual low resonance. Kento never had to yell or curse to get his point across—it’s one of the things you found most attractive about him. It made you docile and eager to please. 

Settling into that comforting space where you placed all of your trust in the man across from you, you nodded. Biting your lip, you resumed your movements, pressing your soft soles over your boyfriend's bulge. The fabric was thin enough that you felt how big he was so acutely, heavy cock hidden beneath the wool blend of his slacks and the soft cotton of his boxer briefs. You curled your toes slightly, thinking maybe you’d have a better grip, when Kento suddenly groans roughly. 

He’s unbuttoning the first two buttons of his linen shirt with one hand while the other rests possessive over your thigh. Raising his hips ever so slightly, he keeps his gaze fixed on your pretty feet massaging his cock. 

“Keep going.” he says, licking his lips as he watches intently. Those chocolate brown eyes you love have grown hazy with need. You nod dumbly, even though he’s not looking at you and put more force down on your feet. Spreading your toe, you make your way down to where the head of his cock has begun leaking through the fabric. “That’s it, love. Just like that, keep going.”

The perversion of it all makes your cunt pulse with need. By the time that Kento orders you to stop, you’re sure that your underwear is soaked with your juices. You pull back slightly, unsure of what happens next, but then your boyfriend begins undoing his belt. It’s slow and methodical as usual despite the fact that his chest is heaving slightly, the handmade leather sliding through the loops of his slacks—and you know exactly how that belt feels slapping lightly against the bare skin of your ass and back of your thighs—before being placed on the side table beside him. 

You’re becoming needier by the second, reaching down to play with your pussy as he’s unbuttoning his pants. Watching his large hands pull down the zipper, you run your index finger along your underwear. You’re much wetter than expected, the fabric sliding easily over your drooling cunt, making you whimper.

“Let me see it, angel.”

With a breathy gasp, you spread your knees apart for Kento, giving him a full view of you sliding your panties to the side and revealing that sweet cunt to him. His lips quirk up slightly, unable to resist the temptation of reaching over to rub a thumb along your folds, gathering your juices before bringing the digit to his tongue. 

Humming low in his throat, Kento leans over to give you a quick kiss. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

Your lip juts out slightly in a pout at the confession. “You should’ve told me, Kento. Why didn’t you?”

He sighs, pulling back to his previous position. “I wasn’t sure how to approach it. It’s—deviant. I know that, and didn’t wish to burden you in case it made you uncomfortable.” 

“But we just…this just happened.” 

“I know,” he closes his eyes, as if he’s done something unforgivable. Even so, he makes no move to stop what’s happening. “I lost judgment, I couldn’t control myself. You’re…very irresistible.”

Playfully toeing along along his thighs, right by his leaking cock but never touching it,

the smile you grace him with is dangerous. “So, you liked the toe rings then? Ruby is your birthstone, y’know. I got that one just for you, daddy.”

You see the moment it dawns on him that you knew on some level. His pupils have dilated, merely a brown ring. That’s when you use your toe to tug on the elastic of his boxer briefs. 

“I’ll make you feel so good,” you murmur, coyly peering up at him through your lashes. “Let me show you, please?”

Things were heading in this direction, but you know how Kento goes crazy for obedience and a sweet plea from you. Breathing out through his nose and jaw clenched tight, Kento slides his slacks and briefs down to mid thigh.

His dick stands upright, almost slapping against the trail of trimmed blonde hairs below his navel. It’s flushed a dark pink, the fat tip leaking precome down the long shaft. Kento takes care of himself very well, so he not only looks good but also tastes good—better than any other man you’ve been with. 

As impatient as you are to touch him, you wait for Kento’s cue to do so; a mere flick of his wrist. He doesn’t verbally reward you when you listen, but the grunt he lets out at your feet touching his bare cock is reward enough. The feel of the ridges and veins along his dick feel strange beneath the soles of your feet and the thought alone makes you feel hot. 

It feels brand new to explore his cock this way, completely different than mouthing at it, grasping it in your fist, or rubbing your cunt along it. You press your heel against his big heavy balls, rubbing hard the way he likes before sliding your foot down to press your toes against them. Kento’s hips slightly cant up against your foot, desperate in a way you rarely see from him.

His tip is drooling now, catching against the cotton of your socks. Kento sighs when your toes wiggle at the sudden dampness, transfixed as you search for a rhythm. It’s better than he ever imagined, all those times he got himself off in the shower at the thought of your feet. Your cute toes, the pretty arch, and those soft heels he wanted to bite into. 

It’s disgusting and he fucking loves it. 

“Get me off with them,” he pants out, voice raspy and hoarse and driven wild with lust. “Do it until I come all over those pretty feet, princess.”

And then you trap his cock with both of your feet, doing your best to keep a firm grip on him. His skin is hot and wet with his own arousal, and you fully coat him in it. The contrast between your soft white socks and his hard flushed cock stirs something inside of you.

“Oh, thats…” you trail off in a whisper, watching as you begin to jerk his dick with your feet in a steady rhythm. It’s so fucking lewd to see your cute socks being used like this, becoming stained with Kento’s precome. “Daddy, this looks so hot. Mmm, ‘m really wet.”

The little gasps and mewls that escape your puffy lips make Kento's mouth dry. He begins fucking his hips up to match your movements, fucking those beautiful feet of yours and ruining you forever.

Kento curses, head tipping back against the back of the couch. Every little curl and twitch of your toes, every feel of your curved arch has him dizzy with need. He feels his blood hot beneath his skin, abdomen tightening with an overwhelming lust.

"Fuck," he growls, fucking you sloppy and he almost can't recognize himself. It's exhilarating. "Faster, baby, shit—faster. I'm almost there, just a bit—nngh—a bit more."

His words come out in heavy pants, but you rapidly nod along like his perfect girl. You squeeze and jerk his dick and he just watches himself fuck into your feet, cursing and grunting until the tension that's built inside of him completely snaps, and he comes with a long moan. His come spurts up, more than usual and landing on your toes and top of your feet.

Kento thinks he blacks out for a few seconds.

“Look,” you say suddenly with a breathy giggle. When Kento opens his eyes that he doesn’t remember closing, he’s faced with the pretty sole. Not only is it small and cute, but the light fabric is soaked with his spunk. “I’m all messy now, but I don’t think you’d mind this mess, hm?”

He can see a bit of your skin now, and suddenly he has the urge to suck his juices off from your sock. So he does. Lightly grasping your ankle, Kento ignores your little yelp as he licks from the bottom of your foot to your toes. Your sock is soft against his tongue, pressed so close to your skin, and then Kento tastes his own come. Moaning, he takes your toes into your mouth, sucking the small digits and pressing the tip of his tongue in between.

[uchiha-7thsingularity]

Hope (Part 1)

Anger can be overwhelming and easy to hold on to. Although repairing a broken heart can be difficult unless you willing to find all the pieces. The aftermath of Felix x MC argument and make up.

Felix Iskander Escellun

Felix feels defeated for a whole month. That's right. They two took a break for a whole month without sharing a word or syllable to each other.

They'd pass him by without a glance. Not a sneer or rolling their eyes at his voice. Just plain silence.

What a hellish punishment.

MC on the other hand was miserable. Yes, they are to take fault for walking away without saying what they wanted to say but at this point what else could they say.

Their mind was ablaze with guilt, sorrow, and shame.

This was torture. An infinite purgatory of constant denial.

(Poor Anisa, Sage, Florian, Scylla, Saaros, and Tulsi. Not a clue on how to help their friends. Afraid to be caught in the middle. Silent in the bar or in the office. Can't even get a freakin cup since Felix and MC are in the kitchen while awkwardly trying not to bump shoulders or make eye contact. But they do end up holding eye contact and tensions are high that it leaves them both to walk away with no snack and just tears.)

At the end of the day Scylla gets sick of it that she drags Felix out into the garden lecturing his buffoonery.

'What's the matter?!' "Nothing." She crosses her tattooed arms. 'Could've fooled florian or anisa...not me.' "Please, like you care about my relationship. Every chance you get you flirt with them in front of me. Don't tell me you care. Now! Of all times!"

She hums.

'You.' "What?" She sighs. 'You, ya' dimwit. All they see is you. Not me. No other person like you. Because Mc is infatuated by you.'

He can't help but blush at that declaration. "It's not your business in the first place. You have no right...." At laugh escapes her, 'And you do...I mean what are you two doing fe. Cause I spent the last months trying to see if they where good enough for you...even with as much chaos and bullshit they went through to save you and stay by your side. It's understandable that they went into a spiral.'

He fixes his gaze past her with a pout. She hugs him without a second thought as well as his small grunt he lets out by surprise. He still doesn't push her away. "What am I suppose to do?" 'I do not know. But so help me Fe, if you let them go without a word or fight then you did it to yourself."

Late at night felix tosses in his covers with a huff and little to no plan in how to walk up to mc. Until the sunrise in which he makes haste to MC's bedroom with no regard for his sleep wear or the servants scurrying to aid him in his sudden morning walk. He arrives and knocks biting his lip.

His nerves are fully awake now. At the point when mc opens the door.

Their shocked to see their surprise guest or boyfriend in his night wear. Till he asks to come in with a nervous gaze. They nod and make room for him. 'Did you need something.' He pinches his nose. "Don't....do it do that MC." They cross their arms. " Do what? 'You know...No I-I absolutely did not want to come here to fight with you again. I came here to see if you wanted to discuss what we left unsaid."

Mc sits on the bed to rub their eyes. They heave a heavy sigh. 'Fine.'

"You walked away." 'I walked away.' "I can't speak for the both of us." 'I never once asked you too.'

He perks up, "I wanted to talk and you pushed me away. You are messy, delightful, charming, and marvelous in your own way. Yet, this...is not healthy. So, please tell me what's wrong.I don't want you to worry yourself to death."

'I worry! No matter the situation I can't help but worry!'

'You dead in my arms. Rime yelling at escell. You giving up and telling me to walk away.'

Tears start to spill with mc hugging their knees. Felix starts to rub their shoulders. "You've done enough. You are enough."

'I'm sorry I put you through hell.' "If you can fight a god off, simply a meltdown I can handle, my love."

Felix and MC snort and start to rant about their past few days. No one can say what else was said but nothings changed. Felix and MC are messy and imperfect in their own way.

Except, theirs always room for improvement.

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Hello Hello~

I noticed that you had a masterlist for AfterL!fe and I wanted to ask for Day with a calm and supportive boyfriend who Day always goes to when he needs to recharge after overexerting himself with all that exercise he does. Please and thank you!

Day - With a Calm & Supportive Boyfriend

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

🍁Maple anon, you have no idea how happy I am that there's another person who remembers this game! The tears of joy that I cried could make a second Lake Ontario. Anywho, it's been a good minute since I thought about this game, but I did my research so I should be able to write Baby Day properly for you! This post is written in the third person~! The lyrics quoted in this one are from the song “Mona Lisa” by Dominic Fike. —Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

🌤•♡•🌤•♡•🌤•♡•🌤•♡•🌤•♡•🌤•♡•🌤•♡•🌤

❝𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖗𝖞 𝖙𝖔 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖎𝖙 𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉– 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖈𝖆𝖓'𝖙 𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖔 𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖈𝖆𝖓'𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖊𝖑𝖘𝖊~❞

. . .

🍫  Sweet Baby Day(‘s) would mesh well with someone calm and supportive! Spontaneous and energetic people like him need a partner who works as their anchor to truly live their lives well. So, like Nine, Day considers his boyfriend to be very close and important to him but in a more romantic way. The cute mint-headed man is a bit slow on the uptake so it might take him a bit to realize he has romantic feelings for someone. However, since his boyfriend is calm and supportive, he's likely also patient and can wait until Day realizes his feelings, which the puppy boy greatly appreciates.

🍫  Because Day's energy is practically endless his boyfriend will have to be used to running around and participating in high-energy activities with him. If the sweet boy notices that his love is getting tired though, he'll insist that they both take a break and do something more calm. He's perfectly fine doing fewer physical activities even if he prefers to move his body, so things like cuddling, playing video/board games, or just listening to his boyfriend read aloud are acceptable for Day.

🍫  After a long day of playi– er… I mean working, receiving a nice bath and massage from his boyfriend is like a blessing for Day. Hell, even just getting a glass of water or sweet lemonade will do him just fine, since his heart squeezes -in the most pleasant way- whenever he's gifted something by his sweetheart. Doing nightly stretches after eating together is one of his favorite things to do before bed; not only does it limber up his joints and loosen his muscles from their tense state after a day of dealing with vengeful spirits, but Day also gets to spend time with his love.

🍫  On the supportive side of things, Day is also incredibly thankful to his beau. His lover lets him freely express himself and lets loose his energy during missions, so long as the mint-haired man knows when to hold himself back. Making sure to rein Day in whenever pushes his body a bit too hard in the heat of the moment and treating all of the injuries that he may have suffered. Also letting him call you whatever cute or funny nicknames he comes up with off the top of his head and cheering him on during and after his practice drills and exercises.

🍫  Most times, it would be Day, his boyfriend, and Nine in a group of three, with the occasional tag-along from Kir, Aitachi, or Sian. The likelihood of the couple spending a lot of time alone is pretty low just due to the puppy-like man's extroverted personality. Day simply loves people and he loves his friends and boyfriend; why hang out with just one when you can hang out with a whole group of people who you cherish? However, the others can read the room quite well and will readily give the pair some alone time to have a cute date every once in a while.

🍫  Speaking of the other members of Noctu; over the time that they've all spent together, they've grown incredibly protective of one another, so you best believe that Day's boyfriend got a full interrogation from each member. They don't play around, okay? They won't tolerate anyone hurting their precious sunshine dog boy. They'll smack a bitch.

. . .

❝𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖗𝖞 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖎𝖙 𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊– 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖈𝖆𝖓'𝖙 𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖔 𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖊𝖑𝖘𝖊~❞

🌤•♡•🌤•♡•🌤•♡•🌤•♡•🌤•♡•🌤•♡•🌤•♡•🌤

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Reblogs are appreciated ~ 𔓘

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[something-tofightfor]

Smutsgiving 2023: Cornbread / Special Agent Ortega

Pairing: Special Agent Ortega x Female Reader

Word Count: 1,455

Warning: M.

Author's Note: SURPRISE. The first time I'm writing for SAO, and I don't think it'll be the last. Don't look at me.

I wanted to do something entirely new, and this was the perfect opportunity. Please enjoy this take on cowboy times.

Smmary: A knock at your door after sundown puts you on high alert.

The knock at the door startled you, drawing your attention from the dishes in the basin toward the entryway, which was bathed in shadow. It’s so late. Who could that be? “Give me one second, please!” 

Setting the towel down, you wiped your hands on the front of your pants, frowning. 

You weren’t stupid - you knew what a late-night knock on the door meant, and how dangerous it could be to open it without knowing who was on the other side.  But I’ve got a gun, and I know how to use it, and … “Open up, ma’am.” The voice was muffled, and accompanied by another series of knocks, but it was distinctly male, and that gave you pause. 

Opening the small drawer on the table next to the front door, you closed your fingers around the grip and lifted, bringing the gun to your side. Feeling more confident, you reached for the chain on the door with your other hand, ensuring that it was in place before grabbing the knob and twisting. “Who’s there?” 

You peeked through the opening, which was only an inch or two wide, and were met with a pair of deep brown eyes, partially in shadow beneath the brim of a dusty bowler hat. “Special Officer Ortega, ma’am.” He shifted, using one hand to pull his lapel back and show you his badge. “Just passing through on my way from Santa Fe. I saw the light on in your window and -”

I’m sure you did. “I don’t make it a habit of opening my door to strange men after sundown.” Taking a long breath, you tightened your grip on the doorknob. “What do you need?”

“I was just hoping for a place to rest for an hour or so.” He cleared his throat, removing his hat with the hand that had shown you the badge. “Maybe refill my canteen before I head on.” You considered his words, glancing down at the gun in your hand and then back at him. 

“Let me see that badge again, Special Officer.” There was a pause, the man angling his body so that his chest was closer to the door opening and you could better see the ornate piece of metal. I can protect myself. Chewing on your lower lip, you narrowed your eyes. He taught me how. “Alright, Officer.” You shut the door and removed the chain, opening it back up wide enough so that you could see his entire frame - and he could see the gun you held in your hand. “Come in. I’ll refill your canteen and you can rest by the fire for -”

“Thank you.” He smiled, but it was a clipped expression, Ortega nodding once as he stepped over the threshold and into the main room of your house. “You won’t need that gun, ma’am. I can promise you that I mean you no harm.” 

“You might not,” you replied, gesturing to the table at the center of the room. “But my husband would be madder than Hell if he found out I answered the door for a stranger without armin’ myself.” His smile was more genuine at that, and when he set his hat down and lowered himself into one of the chairs, stretching his legs out in front of him, you kept your eyes on him. 

“Can’t say I’d blame him.” He wet his lips, nodding seriously. “World’s a dangerous place these days, and… it’s especially dangerous for a woman so far from town all by her lonesome.” His eyes were glittering, the man’s voice dropping slightly as he spoke to reach an almost disarmingly seductive tone.

“Who says I’m alone?” You slipped the gun into your belt, and then arched a brow, reaching for the covered pitcher of water and a glass. You filled it up before you set it on the table in front of him. “My husband’s just -”

“I’m guessing you’re alone because if you weren’t, he would have answered the door when someone came knocking after dark.” True. Ortega sipped the water, tipping his head back and savoring the taste. “Thank you, by the way. Haven’t had water this cold in days.” 

“There’s a well out back.” You gestured with your chin, trying to decide the best way to keep your hands busy. “Hasn’t run dry in a couple years.” He hummed and took another drink, looking around the room. “You’re real interested in the inside of my house. Is there a reason?” 

“My line of work keeps me sleeping under the stars quite a bit.” He leaned back using the fingers on one hand to smooth out his mustache. “And when I’m not doin’ that, I’m in hotels. It’s all… temporary.” 

“Bet that means you haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a while then, either.” Crossing your arms over your body, you leaned back against a chest of drawers, assessing his form. “And you’ve been eating campfire cooked -”

“You offering me supper, miss?” Ortega straightened up and locked eyes with you, surprise in his. “Somethin’ warm? Something -”

“I could.” You titled your head to one side, your thumb spinning the thin gold band you wore on your left hand. “Could heat up some cornbread in a skillet for you. Maybe even offer you some bacon.” Blinking, you stepped closer reaching for the butt of your gun and removing it from your belt, leaning over to set it back in the drawer. “I also have coffee, but that would take a little longer to make.” 

He let out a slow breath, eyes following your movement. When you were standing right in front of him he tilted his head back, staring up at you. “All of that sounds incredible.” Does it? Really? “But now that you mention it, I think there’s something else I’d prefer.” 

“Me too.” The facade broke when you reached out, twisting your wrist and running one knuckle over his cheekbone, Ortega’s left hand slowly moving to rest against your hip. “It’s good to see you, Eli.” The man’s lips curled upward into a legitimate smile at your words and then they parted, the tip of his tongue visible. “Welcome home.” 

Ortega shot to his feet and engulfed you in a hug, his strong hands pressed to the center of your back and your shoulders, holding you close. “I missed you, mi flor del desierto. It’s been too long.” 

“Show me.” You understood the man’s game - and had been willing to play along briefly, but having your husband back in the house after nearly a month away was overwhelming. “Show me how much you missed me.” 

He backed off enough so that you could look into his eyes, the warmth there reflecting the lantern light. “That’s what you want?” You nodded, fingers combing through the ends of his hair, which curled over the nape of his neck. “Alright then.” He smiled, the expression lifting both cheeks. “Lead the way.” 

“Wait.” You spoke quietly, taking a deep breath. “Kiss me first?” There was a brief pause, but he moved swiftly, ducking his head to press a kiss to the space in front of your ear. 

“I can do that.” You barely heard him before his mouth was on yours, the kiss greedy in that there was nothing reserved about it - Ortega’s lips pressed tightly against yours as his hold on you tightened. He bit at your lower one, using your surprised gasp as an opportunity to drag the tip of his tongue over the top of it. And when you moaned at the feeling, he deepened the kiss - each swipe of his tongue against yours purposeful. 

You never wanted him to stop, and would have been content to spend the rest of your days in his arms and with his mouth on you, but when he broke the kiss and jerked his chin toward the sleeping area, you nodded breathlessly. “Yes.” 

Spinning away from him, you gripped his hand and tugged him behind you, pausing when you reached the bed to look down at the overstuffed mattress. “I dreamed about our bed.” He sighed, kissing the side of your neck. “And about you in it.” Humming at his words, you leaned back, Ortega pulling his hand free to slide both of his over your abdomen, untucking your shirt. “I couldn’t get gome soon enough.” 

“Should have been sooner.” Your eyes half closed, you sighed the words out, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons one after another. “Eli, it -” 

“I’m here now.” He tilted his head forward and kissed the top of your shoulder, one wide palm sliding up the center of your belly and then between your breasts before veering off to one side, thumb swirling slowly over your nipple. “Right here.” 

— 

Mi flor del desierto - my desert flower 

[recoveringdreamer]

TIMING: current LOCATION: a tree in the woods PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup & @recoveringdreamer SUMMARY: kaden finds a balam stuck in a tree. felix could think of many places they'd rather be. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

Felix was no stranger to coming back to themself in strange positions after a shift. In fact, that was one of the few things throughout their life that had remained a constant thing. It might have been comforting, in a strange way, if not for the… public nudity of it all. The public nudity made it a little hard to feel any kind of relief. There were few things worse than waking up naked.

Waking up naked in a tree might be one of them, though.

The jaguar had been antsy lately. Felix thought he might dislike the curse, even if he wasn’t really affected by it. (The jaguar neither spoke nor knew how to rhyme, so he seemed immune from this particular oddity.) Maybe that was why he’d taken over when he had… but Felix had no idea why he’d climbed a tree. He didn’t usually climb trees. It felt a little cliche.

Gripping the trunk tightly, Felix looked down. The side of the tree was all clawed up, so it was pretty clear how they’d gotten up here. How to get down would be a little more difficult, though. They heard someone shuffling below, and they took a moment to look themself over, to see if there was blood on them. Had they hurt someone? But… no. Their skin seemed clean, and they couldn’t taste any blood in their mouth, so… Everything was fine. Whoever was down there must have shown up after the jaguar got into the tree. Which might mean they could help.

“Is — Is there someone down there?” Felix called, uncertain. “This isn’t as weird as it looks, I swear!”

—

It wasn’t every day that Kaden got a call about a “spotted mountain lion” stuck in a tree. He figured it was best not to ask too many questions and just head over to the location in question and see for himself what the fuck was going on. The one thing he was pretty sure about was he was going to deal with some supernatural bullshit. 

He approached the tree with a full arsenal: tranq filled shotgun, plenty of knives, and a pistol, just in case. A familiar sensation slid down his spine the closer he got. Even after all this time, it set him on edge, made him want to squirm away from the feeling just beneath his skin. There was definitely a shifter nearby. And if he had to hazard a guess, it was a balam. Unless sirens had suddenly become leopard-shaped. He doubted it.

Kaden could feel the balam’s presence before he could spot him (spot – he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at his own bad pun). The voice made it much easier to find the guy in question. The ranger looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun, and realized he had to take a few steps back to see the person stuck up there. “Putain de merde,” he muttered. “You’re pretty goddamn high up, aren’t you?” 

And very naked, too, apparently. 

Definitely a balam. 

“Pretty sure it’s about as weird as it looks,” he said, eyes running over the trunk of the tree, looking for some easy way up or down. “Lucky for you, I’m pretty damn used to weird.” All he could see were claw marks dug into the side of the tree. Of fucking course. Wasn’t hard for a giant goddamn cat to get up there but there wasn’t much hope for a human. 

“I’m animal control,” he called up to the guy. “Got a call about a big spotted mountain lion in a tree. Seems like I found you instead.” He wasn’t sure if he should let the proverbial cat out of the bag (he laughed again) and clue them into the fact that he knew what they were. It came with a a whole host of questions, though: how do you know? Why do you know? Are you going to hurt me? All that shit. He was hoping he could skip it. “Kaden, by the way. I take it you’re not shimmying yourself down anytime soon. Considering you’re not really dressed for it.” 

—

They were pretty high up. Felix wasn’t afraid of heights — it would be pretty weird if they were, considering — but they’d really like to have their feet on the ground right about now. The jaguar was a good climber, was built for it. Felix? Not so much. They clung to the branch of the tree as tightly as they could, even if they were pretty secure in the fact that the jaguar wouldn’t let them fall. If it started to look or feel like that was a possibility, the spirit would definitely take over. The only issue was… Felix had no idea if the cat would take them down from the tree or climb them higher. It was a little hard to predict that kind of thing sometimes.

Getting down as a human was probably a better option here. And maybe that would be easier to do with a little help from the bottom of the tree. Felix risked a look down, spotting the faraway figure of the man who’d approached. Unharmed, they reminded themself, you didn’t hurt anyone. They swallowed, letting out a shaky exhale. This time. 

“Yeah, I, uh… I think I’m stuck. But… You’re here now, so… maybe I’m in luck?” This guy was wearing a uniform, and that probably meant he had a plan. Right? People in uniforms were smart! They knew things! He probably dealt with this sort of thing all the time! This probably wasn’t even that weird to him. 

Okay, maybe that was a stretch. He said it was ‘just as weird as it looked,’ so maybe this wasn’t the kind of thing he saw on the daily. Which was kind of a bummer, really, because Felix had no idea what they were doing and it would have been really nice to have someone around who did. But if the guy was used to weird… maybe there was still a plan in place? 

Sweat pricked the back of Felix’s neck as the man spoke again. Animal control… spotted mountain lion… Their mouth went dry, eyes zeroing in on the gun the officer had brought with him. “Well, I haven’t seen any mountain lions here! Someone probably saw wrong, I think we’re in the clear.” Not a good time for rhyming. Stupid curse. They let out a nervous laugh, shaking their head. “Yeah, um, I’d rather not try shimmying down. I’ve got… certain things… swinging around… Do you have a better plan? I don’t think climbing down is it, man.” They swallowed again, hugging the tree a little tighter. “I’m Felix, by the way. Uh, I guess… I forgot to say.”

—

“Yeah normally I deal with cats stuck in trees. Not naked people. Can’t be that different, right?” Kaden shouted up. “At least you don’t have claws.” He huffed a small laugh to himself. At least they didn’t have them right now, that is. 

As Felix spoke, Kaden was assessing the situation – namely, the tree. There was no way he was climbing up that thing, not without a hell of a lot of help. And the space between the branches it would be dangerous for Felix to try and jump down to any of them. As he was contemplating what to do next, he realized something. 

“Are you rhyming?” he asked, brows knit together as he addressed the stuck balam. Well, alright there was no doubt that they were. He could hear that much. “On purpose, I mean?” Was this a cat thing? Honestly it wouldn’t surprise him if cats would speak in goddamn riddles if they could speak. But no, he’d met other balam by now. Leticia and Nicole didn’t speak in rhymes. So this was just their own personal quirk. 

“Anyway, I’m gonna go get my ladder from the truck. I might have some extra clothes, too. I don’t know if the ladder will be tall enough but it can’t hurt. Hang tight.” It didn’t take him too long to walk to the truck and back, ladder and a change of clothes in hand. With the amount of blood and other bodily fluids he dealt with on a daily basis, he tried to keep at least an extra shirt or two in there. 

Kaden started to extend the ladder and worked to get it propped up to the side of the tree. He considered spilling the beans, see if he could save them both the trouble of doing this the hard way when Felix could just use their jaguar form. It was probably best to do that now while they couldn’t attack him for being a hunter. Right? “You know, uh,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously, “you don’t have to hide the whole, uh… thing.” Great. Good explanation. Can’t misinterpret that. “I mean the, uh, shifter thing.”

—

“Haha! Definitely no claws!” Felix shot back down, the smallest hint of desperation in their tone. They had claws. They had very big, very sharp claws. They did not want the animal control officer to know this. “Just hands, no paws!” Were they trying too hard? Was it obvious? It probably didn’t matter much. After all, the animal control officer had no reason to think that the naked person in a tree sometimes turned into a jaguar, did he? Felix was safe.

Well… safe from being outed as a balam. Less safe from being called out for the rhyming thing.

“Oh, I, uh, I guess I am a little.” They tried to sound surprised, though they weren’t sure why. Did it matter if they were rhyming? Would they get in trouble for it? Would Kaden decide not to help them out of the tree? Felix had no idea how the French felt about rhymes. They’d never met anyone French before. “Um, I hope that’s okay, or I’ll have to ask you for an acquittal! I’m doing it because of… a bet. I made it with my friend, and I haven’t broken yet!” Did that make it sound better, or worse? Felix wasn’t sure they wanted this guy to think they were rhyming on purpose, but they couldn’t exactly hide it, either. It was kind of increasingly obvious.

In any case, it didn’t seem like Kaden would leave him in the tree. Felix let out a shaky, uncertain laugh at the instruction to hang tight because, really, what else were they going to do? If they stopped hanging tight, they’d fall. And they really didn’t want to find out how much the ‘cats always land on their feet’ cliche applied to them. 

So, they held tight. They clung to the branch they were on, and they waited for Kaden to return like a superhero with a ladder and sweatpants. “Oh, man, I really owe you one,” Felix breathed a sigh of relief as the officer returned. “This whole tree thing is not fun.” They watched carefully as Kaden leaned the ladder against the tree, trying to inch towards it carefully.

And then, Kaden spoke. He said Felix didn’t have to hide and, at first, the balam’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I mean, I’ve been out of the closet for years now, but I’m not really sure how —” They cut themself off when Kaden continued. The whole shifter thing. Suddenly, Felix was trying to inch themself back up the tree, trying to put distance between themself and the man at the base of it. “You — Uh, I don’t know what you mean, stranger! I don’t know how you’d know that, unless you’re a ranger. I mean, what? Haha! I meant — Do you think this is a chestnut? The tree. I swear I heard someone say it was oak, but I think I disagree. I don’t even think I know where chestnuts grow. It’s probably pretty slow. Right? I don’t think you need to come up here, though, it’d get a little tight. Actually, you can probably just go!”

—

Kaden narrowed his eyes as Felix babbled on. If he wasn’t already suspicious that he was dealing with a balam, he was positive now. No question there. The guy definitely had paws on occasion. And claws. Merde, he hoped those didn’t make an appearance, he didn’t want to deal with any more scratch marks today. If nothing else, Felix seemed too nervous to simply shift in front of the ranger. Or otherwise, considering that he’d been there for a while prior to Kaden heading out there. 

“Right. A bet.” He didn’t buy that for a second. Not that he had any sort of guess for what the fuck was going on or how the hell he walked into some kind of fucked up nursery rhyme that went along the lines of:

The clock struck three when the cat ran up the tree

People called upon the ranger to swoop in and save them from danger

He brought the ladder, asked the balam what was the matter,

And they told him that actually they were fine and that they didn’t even know how to climb

Or some shit like that. 

“I don’t know if you know it but you’re not a bad poet.” Not that he could say much, considering. He stood there, blinking, when he realized what he’d just said. “Putain de merde, now you’ve got me doing it.” If he didn’t know for sure that he was dealing with a shifter, Kaden would be worried that he’d walked into some sort of fae bullshit right about then.

Granted, that could still be the case even if it was a balam stuck in a tree and not a nymph. There were plenty of fae out there and all kinds of bullshit they could have stumbled into out in the forest of Wicked’s Rest. Honestly, if rhyming was the worst thing that happened, they were probably lucky. 

Either way, wasn’t his problem to solve at the moment. 

“Huh?” was Kaden’s first reaction to the mention of coming out of the closet. “I wasn’t asking if you– I’m not trying to–” There was really no way to respond that wasn’t horribly awkward. Hell, Kaden hadn’t even considered that was a direction his own comment could have steered them towards. Putain, was it possible this balam was more fucking inclined to make conversations awkward than Kaden was? He hadn’t expected that one. The same way he was prettys sure Felix hadn’t expected that a hunter was standing there with a ladder now. “I’m not just going to leave you up there in your birthday suit. Especially since you look like a strong breeze would blow you over at any second.” He was pretty sure that now they were shaking as they tried to cling onto the branches and trunk. That or the tree was vibrating. Kaden was going to place money on the former. “Uh, anyway, you’re not wrong. About the ranger part, I mean.” He cleared his throat, hand wanting to reach up to rub the back of his neck in some attempt to relieve the tension in the air but unable to let go of the ladder and perform the tick. “But I’m not– I mean, I don’t want to do anything or–” Kaden looked up, trying desperately to find some sort of eye contact with the shifter stuck in a tree. It was difficult from their particular angle, but he hoped they knew he wasn’t lying. “Look, I just want to help.”

He shifted on his feet, unsure of his own words. Kaden knew enough hunters that he knew this was going to be a hard sell for any shifter to believe. “I mean to help get you down. That’s it. I promise.” For whatever that was worth in this situation. “I can’t leave you like this, it’s too damn pathetic. And you need someone to hold the ladder.” 

—

The French animal control officer clearly didn’t believe Felix’s bet excuse, which was… fair, actually. They’d really only gone with that excuse because it rhymed, anyway. If they weren’t stuck rhyming, they could have come up with a much better excuse. Of course, if they weren’t stuck rhyming, they wouldn’t have needed an excuse. It was one of those ‘endless cycle’ type things, like the chicken and the egg. 

“Hey, you don’t have to insult me!” Felix complained, clinging to the branch they were holding a little tighter. “I’m stuck up a tree! Isn’t that bad enough? You shouldn’t keep adding more stuff!” A little panicked at the realization that Kaden, too, had spoken in a rhyme, Felix looked down quickly to ensure that the glass orange hadn’t gained the ability to walk and followed them here from the boiler room. Fortunately, it didn’t seem that the curse was mobile just yet. It probably would, in a few more days. The whole town would end up cursed with rhymes, and it’d be all Felix’s fault. Everyone would hate them, and they wouldn’t even be able to move to Canada about it.

Okay, maybe they were catastrophizing a little bit. It was just a little hard to look on the bright side when you were also looking down from close to the top of a very tall tree. All they could focus on were all the branches they might hit on their way down, or the animal control officer they might eat if their jaguar took over and got them safely to the bottom. 

The animal control officer who was a ranger. Because of course the animal control officer was a ranger. Wasn’t that just Felix’s luck lately? At this rate, a thunder storm would probably roll in any moment. 

Felix scrambled to tighten their hold on the tree, shaking a few leafs down in the process. The ranger confirmed that he was, in fact, a ranger, but then followed it up with a claim that he really only wanted to help. Felix let out a loud, nervous laugh. “I’m sorry, but am I just supposed to take your word for that? You guys are literally built for combat! Combat with people like me, specifically! So, I’m not exactly jonesing to come down there, you see!” The tree wasn’t so bad! Felix could have a good life in the tree. The squirrels wouldn’t care if he only spoke in rhymes. 

The ranger wasn’t leaving, and Felix swallowed. Was he going to shoot them out of the tree, or would he prefer they be in jaguar form when he did it? His father told him once that a balam’s pelt was a highly desirable thing for a human to have. Felix felt panicked. “Everything is good here, Mr. Animal Control Officer, sir! Really, you can be on your way, Monsieur!” Would using one of the three French words he knew serve in Felix’s favor here? Maybe! Only one way to know!

—

Kaden let out an exasperated sigh. He had been hoping that this was going to be a simple cat stuck in a tree situation that someone had exaggerated on the phone. It wasn’t likely, but it happened once or twice. Well, sort of. He wasn’t sure if the fact that it was an ovinnik that one time fit the criteria but it had to count for something. Either way, he was starting to think it might have been simpler to deal with Felix while he was a goddamn jaguar than… this.

“Can you quit the rhyming shit?” Merde, maybe it was contagious. If it was, he was going to have to pull out the goddamn whiteboard again because he wasn’t going to speak if it was going to come out in rhymes. That was one step away from it coming out in song and once was more than enough. “I mean it, I’m tired of this bit. You’re making it harder than it has to be getting you out of this goddamn tree.” 

Putain, he was going to fucking scream if this was going to keep on being a goddamn theme.

He swiped a hand down his face before taking hold of the ladder once again. “Like I was fucking saying, I’m not going to hurt you.” Unless this rhyming shit kept happening, then he might consider it. Kaden figured that admitting that wasn’t going to help the situation. “I don’t hunt anymore.” Well that wasn’t quite true. “I mean, I do, but just monsters and beasts, not shifters. Unless they kill people. Sometimes.” Or if they slaughtered animals on his partner’s farm, apparently. “Not that– I mean, I doubt you’ve killed anyone considering you got yourself stuck up a damn tree.” Then again, he didn’t really know one way or another, did he? “Putain, that’s not the point. I’m trying to fucking help you, not kill you. If I wanted to do that, I could leave you up in that damn tree.” 

Something told him that wasn’t going to be enough to convinced the balam to start shimmying down the fucking ladder. It wasn’t all that different from what he’d said before. Only it was a little worse. “What can I do to prove it to you?”

—

“I can’t!” Felix shouted back, a little miffed. Did he really think they’d be rhyming if they could stop? Granted, they had implied that it was just a bet they’d lost, but that lie was a little thin. Surely an officer of the law would see through it, right? “Look, at least I’m not starting up a chant! This could definitely be worse. Like, what if I were talking in reverse? You wouldn’t even be able to tell what I was saying! There are much worse games we could be playing.” Except it wasn’t a game. It was a curse. And maybe it was going to get him killed after all, because what if the ranger grew tired of it? What if this was the straw that broke the camel’s back? If there was one thing Felix knew well, it was the danger of angry rangers. 

God, were they rhyming in their head now, too?

“There isn’t an ugly glass orange down there, is there? Um, not for any particular reason, I’d just like to stay aware.” Was the ranger rhyming on purpose? Or was the curse somehow airborne now? Was that a thing that could happen? Felix should have listened more closely when their abuela went on and on about curses back when they were five years old and more interested in SpongeBob. 

A hunter who didn’t hunt anymore? Except, he still did sometimes? Just beasts and monsters. And also shifters who killed people? Felix’s head was spinning with all the add-ons to what had started out a pretty straightforward statement, shifting forward to press themself as flat against the tree trunk as they possibly could. “You’re not — filling me with confidence,” they called back down, a little muffled because of the way their cheek was now pressed against the bark. “I mean, no offense! I’m just starting to think I should stay up here and take my chances. It’s actually not even all that uncomfortable in the branches! Everything is going really great. You don’t have to stand around and wait! You can honestly just leave. You probably have, like, equipment to retrieve!” That was probably a thing animal control officers did, right? Retrieve equipment from the woods? It sounded right.

Except the ranger wasn’t leaving, and Felix’s anxiety thrummed in their chest. “It’s kind of a hard thing to prove,” they admitted. “Like, it’s just… me trusting you not to make a move? And that’s hard. I feel like I need to stay on guard.”

—

This whole goddamn situation was absurd. There he was, a ranger and an animal control officer, in the woods trying to help a naked balam out of a tree. One who couldn’t stop rhyming. “You should get that checked out, you know,” Kaden called up. “The rhyming thing, I mean. Sounds like some kind of magical condition. Or just the normal bullshit that happens in this town sometimes.” Didn’t seem like he was going to be able to stop Felix from rhyming anytime soon. Now if he could just get him to get out of the goddamn tree.

Kaden couldn’t blame them for being wary of him. He hadn’t made the most compelling argument and even if he had, the nature of what he was – a ranger – was a big enough barrier to trust. It wasn’t like he could say he had never been a danger to shifters, either. There was blood on his hands and bodies piled up on his back and Felix’s concerns only added weight to it all – a helping of guilt and realization he would always be worthy of suspicion stacked on top. How the hell could he just ask a shifter to trust him? What gave him the goddamn right? 

He pinched his eyes shut for a moment and exhaled. He still had to try. He scratched his chin and tried to think of something that might inspire confidence. Maybe there was someone they both knew. But this town, for as small as it was, was big enough that he didn’t know if they were going to find someone in common who was supernatural or could vouch for Kaden in some way. He could mention Monty, maybe. It crossed his mind, but something held him back from saying his partner’s name. Sure, he didn’t think that the mess of a balam clinging to the trunk of the tree was going to put the zombie in danger, but with everything happening at the farm, it felt like a risk. 

“My cousin is a werewolf,” he offered. It felt safe enough. Alex wasn’t in town right now and wasn’t tied up in the whole bullshit with the farm and whoever was targeting Monty. Even then, he wasn’t sure if it would be enough. “I’m also dating a zombie.” That was vague. It should be okay. As much as he wanted to elaborate, to prove himself, he couldn’t risk anyone he cared about further than what he’d already said, not with everything going on. “Look I could leave you here with the ladder but it’s not going to be safe to climb down if I don’t hold it for you. And I’m going to feel like shit if you end up falling off of that branch and hurting yourself or some shit like that. So can you just climb down the goddamn ladder? “

—

“Hey, thanks, I appreciate the concern! But I’m not sure this is the kind of thing a doctor could discern.” The very idea of going to a doctor sounded bad, anyway. Felix wasn’t sure if any of the usual tests a primary physician might run would be able to detect that a person shared their body with a jaguar spirit and often shifted into a jaguar as a result, but they’d really rather not find out. Especially because they didn’t think a prescription would do much for a rhyming curse, anyway. Or did the officer mean he should seek help from someone magical? Felix didn’t even know how to begin to do that, either. Rhyming was kind of low on their list of problems right now, anyway.

Marginally higher than the rhyming curse was the ranger on the ground below them, for example. He swore he wasn’t a danger to them, but hadn’t Felix heard that sort of thing before? Hunters, his father warned him, would say anything to pull down your defenses, would make a thousand excuses in order to properly make prey of a predator. If they climbed down out of this tree, what would it do beyond make them an easier target for this man’s blade? They were safer up here, where he’d have to work harder to shoot them down. They knew that.

Frustration poured from the man on the ground, and Felix wondered how long they realistically had before he either decided to take a shot or just made note of their appearance before walking away. Would he track them down later? Was he that kind of hunter? Fear thrummed in their chest, tight and desperate. 

But then… the hunter spoke. His cousin was a werewolf, he claimed. He was dating a zombie. Felix hesitated, trying to gauge whether or not any of this made the man any safer. They could request a promise, but what good would it do? Felix couldn’t bind someone to their word the way a fae could. Felix couldn’t even climb out of a tree. They tried to think of some question they could ask to confirm that the ranger was being honest, but they came up empty. Peering forward a little, they studied the man as best they could from the distance. “Could you… put all your weapons on the ground?” They sounded cautious. “Drop everything and spin around?” They shifted their eyes to access the jaguar’s vision, to give them a better look. “If I can be sure you’re unarmed, I’ll come down.”

—

“Not a doctor, I meant a—” Wait, what did Kaden mean exactly? A spellcaster? A curse expert? An exorcist? “Nevermind. I meant someone supernatural but I can’t say I have any one in mind. Wish I could offer more.” He supposed he could mention that magic shop he stumbled into with Emilio that one time after the run in with the mapinguari but he had a feeling that Felix was also the kind of person to drink the lotion. Maybe it was for the best that they didn’t wander in there on their own. 

For a second, Kaden thought that he might have broken through to the balam, that he might have managed to build a little bit onto the bridge of trust. It was hard not to let on that his heart sank to the pit of his stomach when Felix asked him to remove all his weapons. He knew it was a fair request, he understood that much, but some stupid part of him had hoped that the rest would be enough. He pulled air into his lungs, trying to accept that this was going to be constant going forward, trying to accept that if he was trying to be whatever kind of hunter he was, he was going to have to prove himself over and over again. He couldn’t let it grate away at him like sandpaper. It wouldn’t help. 

“Okay,” he said with a nod, sighing as he stepped away from the ladder to start removing his weapons. “It, uh, it might take a while.” He could make excuses or try to explain but he didn’t feel the need. Instead he just pulled out the knives in his belt, from his pocket, in his boot, the pistol full of tranquilizers, the other pistol with bullets. He may not kill non-humans anymore, not if he could avoid it, but he still worked as animal control in a town full of monsters. He lived in a place where danger was constant. It wasn’t unreasonable to be armed, to be prepared. 

The weapons piled up in a cluster a few meters away from the tree and away from the ladder — out of reach in case that had been an unspoken concern. Kaden hesitated as he reached for the last knife tucked away inside his belt. He trusted Felix not to harm him, he did, but being without any weapons of any kind on his person felt vulnerable. He felt just as naked as the balam up in the goddamn tree. What if something unexpected happened? What if he didn’t know how to control his shifting and Kaden was suddenly face to face with a jaguar? It was stupid, deep down he knew that, but he gripped the handle of the knife tight all the same. 

He could do this. He could let it go. He could trust that things would be okay. He had to. He asked for trust. He had to demonstrate his own. 

Unclenching his fist, the last knife dropped onto the pile and Kaden returned to the ladder, ignoring the anxiety spreading through him as he looked up at Felix. “Unarmed,” he said, holding up his hands in a show of surrender. “Do I really have to spin around?” He felt vulnerable as it was, he didn’t need to embarrass himself on top of it all. “I can if you really want but I was hoping that was part of the rhyming shit and not a real request.”

—

What kind of person did you go to about something like this? The closest Felix could think of was an exorcist, and the mere idea of visiting one on purpose made their palms sweat and their heart pick up pace almost as much as the presence of the hunter down below. There were a lot of things that made Felix anxious. Their current situation seemed practically designed for it. Pretty much everyone had had a nightmare about showing up to school naked, and this felt like… a really high stakes version of that. Complete with a rhyming curse and a hunter who may or may not want to kill them!

Felix held their breath for a moment, wondering if the hunter would argue with their condition. At first, he was sure there was a fight brewing. They had no idea how to go about avoiding it or escaping it, and they were weighing the pros and cons of shifting to allow the jaguar to jump over to the next tree or something along those lines when, miraculously, the hunter agreed to their terms. Relief sagged them against the tree, and they watched carefully as the hunter moved. 

There were knives. A lot of knives. Guns that made Felix’s skin crawl, a pile of weaponry so large that they had to wonder how it had all fit on one person. There was a moment of hesitation before the hunter placed one last knife onto the pile, and it was this moment that made Felix decide that this probably was everything. Without it, he might have carried a bit more doubt.

Just to quell the last ounce of doubt that remained, Felix nodded. “Um, if you don’t mind. Just, you know, that and the disarming combined…” They trailed off, letting it hang. It would convince me, they wanted to say, but they were worried about actually admitting to that. What if the hunter somehow used that to his advantage? What if he was still planning on killing Felix the moment their feet touched the ground? It was better to be certain, they decided. “You don’t have to make it fancy or anything. Just, uh, consider the extra comfort it would bring?”

—

For fuck’s sake. Kaden sighed and spun in a stupid circle. At least they were in the middle of the woods where no one could see them. It could be worse, he supposed; he could be singing and dancing in the fucking Common again. For good goddamn measure, once he was done spinning clockwise, he spun counterclockwise, too.

He put his hands back on the ladder to steady it and called up to the balam. “Are you satisfied now?” They better fucking be. “Can you climb down now before you shake so much you fall off the fucking branch?” 

—

The man spun around, and Felix decided that they were satisfied. Their shoulders slumped a little, and they nodded their head. “I’m sorry for making you do that,” they offered quietly. “It’s just, um… some of you guys aren’t very fond of… cats.” Slowly, cautiously, they inched towards the ladder. They put one foot onto the first rung, slowly starting the process of transferring themself from the branch to the ladder before stopping again, freezing midway there.

They were naked. With everything else going on, they’d kind of almost forgotten that they were naked. They looked down at themself with a grimace, squeezing their eyes shut. “Um, would you mind closing your eyes? Nothing personal, you know, I just… don’t really want you to see above my thighs. You can open them again once I get pants on. Or, um… find something else to… gaze upon.” 

—

Kaden watched as Felix began to climb down the ladder, keeping an eye on their feet each time they stepped down one more rung, checking to make sure they didn’t slip. If they did, he was ready to act. What that action was going to be, he didn’t know. But he was ready to do it. He was so focused on making sure that they were steady and safe that he’d also sort of forgotten that they weren’t wearing any clothes. Right. 

“Hold on,” he said as he ran over to grab the extra set of clothes. He climbed up a little bit of the ladder, keeping his eyes on the bark in front of him and hung what he could on one of the rungs before scurrying back down. “Be careful on the way down, I left the clothes on there for you.” Maybe that was dumb. “You can kick them off if it’s too hard to go around them. But, uh, I’ll close my eyes now. If you slip and fall, I’m not going to be able to catch you, though. So you’re aware.”

—

Felix froze in place as the hunter told them to hang on, stiffening when they felt him move away from the ladder. Their heart thrummed anxiously, eyes locked onto the pile of weapons just to make sure that he didn’t grab one as he went by, but the hunter seemed to have no interest in his arsenal. Instead, he fetched clothes. It was a little confusing, all things considered; Felix had mostly been told that hunters were a single-minded type, but this man genuinely seemed to have no interest in hurting them. And there was relief in it. Felix didn’t want to paint with a wide brush, didn’t want to assume the worst of a large population of people. They wanted the world to be better. This hunter made them think it wasn’t such an impossible thing.

They waited as the hunter returned, placing the clothes a little up the ladder. Relief flooded the balam. “I really appreciate it,” they called down. “Um, I just hope they fit.” Too-big pants that they had to hold up with one hand were better than no pants at all, but if they ended up unable to pull the pants over their legs entirely? That would be embarrassing in more ways than one.

They grabbed the clothes as they got to them on the ladder, pulling the shirt on right away even if they weren’t sure how to pull the pants on without falling. They shimmied down a little closer to the ground, then paused again to try it. One leg in… don’t fall… It was a difficult process, but they managed to get them on. And, as a bonus? They did fit well enough. Felix let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, I’m coming down!” They called down the ladder. “And I’ve got pants on, so you don’t have to turn around!”

—

Kaden could hear the balam’s heartbeat pounding in his ear as soon as he stepped away from the ladder to grab the clothes. Merde. He didn’t think about what it might look like, he forgot the pile of weapons behind him entirely. Putain, he could hear his mother’s scolding in the back of his mind already. Unprepared, unarmed, helping a shifter, didn’t even think to put the greater good before yourself and betray them. He really was a terrible fucking hunter.

He was relieved to see Felix’s feet touch the ground, though. And the clothes fit or at least came close to it. Good enough for the time being. “Glad to see you eye to eye,” Kaden said with a hint of a smile. “I was getting tired of looking up your nostrils.” He started to collapse the ladder once more. That was the easy thing to put away. He wasn’t really sure what to do with his weapons. He sure as hell wasn’t leaving them out there but he didn’t want to scare off the balam. Cats got spooked easily and he’d finally gotten them to come to him. 

“How long were you up there?” It was at least the fifteen or twenty minutes it took them to actually decide to climb down the ladder and Kaden hadn’t shown up right away. It must have been a decent amount of time. His brow creased as a thought occurred to him. “Got any injuries? Skin burn, punctures, cuts? I’ve got a first aid kit or two if you want me to look at anything.” The ranger knew he was probably pushing his luck, adding suspicion onto himself and his intentions. Putain. “I can also drive you to your car or drop you off somewhere. If you want.” His eyes caught a glint of light reflecting off one of the knives piled up in the corner. “I, uh, would just have to grab those.” Kaden nodded towards his arsenal. “Which, uh, I get if… I mean if you want to carry them instead? Or, I don’t know.” He rubbed the nape of his neck. “I don’t want to leave them here, that’s all. But uh whatever you’re comfortable with.”

—

Face to face with the hunter now, Felix felt even more intimidated than they had in the tree. He looked like a normal guy; maybe that was part of it. It was easy to fear monsters that looked like monsters, but it was so much harder when they appeared human. You never knew who to trust, never knew who you needed to watch your back the most closely around. 

But this guy had helped them. Felix didn’t think he was a monster; a monster would have made a move towards the pile of weapons instead of the ladder, wouldn’t have given Felix clothes to wear or shared information about his werewolf cousin. Felix forced themself to relax a little, unclenching their fists and offering a shaky smile. “I guess I should be glad you were focusing on my nose and not… other things,” they said, eyes darting down momentarily. “Though, uh, the idea that my nose is bad to look at kind of stings!” It was their attempt at a joke, though it wasn’t a very good one. They let out an uncertain laugh, anyway, and the very attempt relaxed them a little. There was less fear clinging to them now, even if they still weren’t sure they felt entirely safe.

They looked up to the tree, grimacing a little when they realized just how high they’d been. Felix wasn’t afraid of heights — far from it — but there was something a little uncomfortable about the knowledge that the jaguar had carried them up so far. Had he been running from something, or just having a good time? It was hard to tell. “It’s hard to say for sure,” he admitted. “It might have been a couple hours, or it could have been more.” There was probably some time before they shifted back to themself where the jaguar had enjoyed the tree, wasn’t there? They glanced back to the ranger as he spoke, a little surprised at the new line of questioning. “I’m not hurt or anything, no,” they said slowly. “It’s, um… nice of you to offer, though.” Their heart picked up a tick as the ranger glanced to his arsenal on the ground, palms sweating. Was it stupid to still be a little afraid of him? He’d done nothing but help. “I — I could maybe borrow your phone instead? Even if I could find mine, it’s probably dead. But I could call a friend to come pick me up and take me home. And, you know, maybe bring me a comb.” 

—

Kaden was hoping that maybe Felix would calm down a little once they’d been standing face to face for a little longer but it seemed like, if anything, his pulse had only picked up speed. Putain. He didn’t know how to make them less nervous, be less of… he didn’t even know what. Less of who he was? He wasn’t armed. He wasn’t standing within reach of the weapons. If anything, the was the one at a disadvantage. Kaden couldn’t just transform into a jaguar at will, unlike Felix.

It was strange how after decades of training, the ranger found himself trusting that the balam wouldn’t hurt him, but the shifter didn’t trust him in return even after all the help. Maybe it was all the grace he deserved, considering his past. He nodded and reached into his pocket for his phone, unlocking it before reaching out for Felix to take it. “Hope you have the number memorized or that you and I have some friends in common.” He took a step back, farther away from the balam and away from the weapons, hoping it might relieve some anxiety. 

He wondered if the entire phone conversation was going to rhyme. Kaden huffed a laugh at the thought. Probably would. “You think some kind of spellcaster can help you with that?” he asked. “The rhyming thing, I mean.”

—

Felix knew, on some level, that it was unfair to make the ranger jump through so many hoops. It should have been enough to disarm him, or to recognize that he was trying to help the moment he mentioned the ladder in his truck. But hadn’t Felix spent most of their life being warned about hunters and what they did to people? Hadn’t they heard horror stories from their father as a child, from Teagan and their other friends as an adult? Maybe it wasn’t fair to say that hunters scared them, because everything did. If Kaden had been a normal human, Felix probably still would have been uncomfortable and uneasy. They weren’t as much of a predator as their claws made them appear. 

Their hand trembled a little as they reached for the phone, though the smile they offered Kaden was genuine and grateful. “I really appreciate this,” they told him earnestly. “And I didn’t mean to resist. I know I’m not making things easy here. Just let me make one call, and you’ll be in the clear.” Kaden probably didn’t want to hang out in the woods, unarmed and doubted, any more than Felix wanted to be there. Luckily, they did have a few numbers memorized and, with a quick call, arranged a pickup. 

Offering the phone back to Kaden, they did manage a small laugh. “I have no idea how to even find out,” they admitted. “It’s a hard thing to do research about. But it’s not the worst thing to be cursed with, you know? It is a little annoying, though. I’m pretty sure people at work are making fun of me. But… they sort of always are, to some degree.” 

—

For whatever reason, Kaden kept expecting that maybe they’d stop rhyming, that maybe they’d simply snap out of whatever curse or spell it was that they were under. Their speech would sound normal, expected, even. Then the last word would remind the ranger that Felix was in fact still rhyming. Not that he had any doubt prior to all this that it wasn’t by choice but if he had, well, it was clear that something had gone wrong. More wrong than getting stuck up a tree, that was. “It’s alright,” he said with a shrug, trying to not let the shaking hands holding his phone bother him. It was stupid for that to upset him, to let it get to him. “I get it. Not like you know me, right?” He hoped that reassure Felix a little more than it had reassured himself. 

“Someone on Amity Road might know something,” he said as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. “I don’t know anything about magic or curses unless it has to do with hunting so, wish I could be more help but I’m out of my depths.” Honestly, if Kaden could avoid casters and spells and all that shit, he tried to do just that. Magic only tended to make things more complicated. “Hope your co-workers cut you some slack. That or… you should find a way to get them back.” Kaden gave them a wink, hoping they felt some solidarity in the rhyming. Or something like that. Comfort, maybe. It wasn’t much but the least he could do.

—

If they’d known him, would things be different? Felix felt antsy around Winter, even though she was their friend, and a medium was a far cry from a ranger. But Kaden was kind, and helpful, and Felix knew it was just as unfair to judge him on having been born a ranger as it was for people to judge Felix on having been born a balam. So he offered another apologetic smile, looking down at his feet. “You’ve been nothing but helpful towards me,” they pointed out. “I mean, you could have just left me in the tree. I doubt anyone would have blamed you. I shouldn’t project things onto you that are untrue. It’s really not fair. You don’t have to act like you don’t care.” 

Even now, Kaden was trying to help. Felix nodded, making a note to check out some of the shops on Amity Road for help. It was good advice; they weren’t sure they’d earned it. They let out a laugh, small but genuine, as Kaden made a rhyme of his own. “I’m sure I’ll figure something out,” they assured him. “This is the kind of thing someone has to know about. And… I really do appreciate all your help with this. You’ve been great, and that’s not something I want to dismiss. I’m sorry again for… being hard to manage. I hope me being difficult didn’t cause you any emotional damage.” They took a step away, figuring Kaden was probably ready to be rid of them. “It was nice meeting you, man. And I’m sorry if I… messed up any day plan.” Ducking their head, they turned to go, walking towards the road to wait for their ride.

That whole thing, they thought, probably could have gone better.

[leelreallylikespersona]

If this isn’t too big of a question.. would you be willing to briefly explain your reasonings behind the arcana in the Decaying Godhood AU? I can tell you’ve put a lot do thought into this .. 👉👈

YES I CAN THANK YOU, This'll be a lot so get comfy (✿◡‿◡)

Nyx (Tower): I really wanted Nyx to have the Moon since... she is the moon, but I found the meaning for the tower worked better (plus there's some connection to Tartarus there I'm sure). From what I found, upright Tower means destruction/damage/catastrophe, which Nyx very much did cause (or almost caused). It also means unexpected change, which works well for this AU since she very suddenly gained a sense of self, now having her own identity, rather than a concept or a force.

Ryoji (Death): This one is obvious I think.. the only one I didn't have to change. I know Ryoji also has the Fortune arcana in FES, but I think Death works better for the AU. I think the idea of loss and renewal still work for him in this story!

I should probably mention that neither Nyx or Ryoji are able to use Arcana Shift anymore.

Izanami (Empress): One of the meanings for the Empress is new opportunity, which works here since Izanami's given a second chance of sorts. You could also apply the nurturing aspect from the Empress tarot loosely to her.

Izanagi (Emperor): Izanagi is a pretty strong guy... He's probably a pretty good leader too I would assume, given his time with Yu. I also wanted him and Izanami to have arcana that were counterparts.

Yaldabaoth (Devil): I always loved giving Yaldabaoth darker aspects to juxtapose his holy exterior. The upright Devil tarot usually means being trapped, addiction, so on... You could say he was addicted to the power he was getting from the masses, he probably still is and is fighting with withdrawals, so to speak. Reversed Devil means breaking addictions, freedom, which he is now, as he's no longer physically and metaphorically chained down.

Satanael (Justice): This may seem like kind of a stretch?? But the way I see it is Satanael is fair in relation to Yaldabaoth... Whatever Yaldy does, Satanael's actions are done to maintain a balance of sorts.

Emma (High Priestess): She's a computer, she knows a lot of stuff even if she doesn't realize it. I gave her this based on the wisdom-related meanings of the arcana.

Salmael (Lovers): He gave me the most trouble, but I do think Lovers fits good ol Salami. In P5T, Salmael uses Toshiro's troubling relationships to try and take him over. The Lovers focuses mostly on romantic relationships, but I think the meanings can extend to familial and platonic relationships as well.

Azathoth (Hermit): This arcana focuses on introspection, and other forms of withdrawing. Azathoth is supposed to be this otherworldly entity, but now he's able to think and act for himself, and now he's experiencing emotions. Azathoth takes some time to figure out who he wants to be, figuring out what abilities he has.

Adam (Strength): Adam is strictly a physical attacker in this, as mentioned before. He has a lot of physical strength, but he also helps ground the group since he's been living as a human the longest. While in battle he only has so many attacks and no magic, outside of battle he is a huge help.

I hope these make sense! It was fun figuring these out for these guys (✿◕‿◕✿)

[randomnameless]

Regarding to the negative character development in Nopes. How do you consider Supreme leader's route to be worse than the original route? I wanna know your thoughts on her character and the route itself.

You mean on Supreme Bullshit?

I prefer her in CF - even if we have the "lel professor Supreme Leader was mourning you for 5 years while you were absent (and no one conveniently thought to explore that damn ravine where you fell to see if maybe you were still alive) but now that you've returned we can maybe stop being in a stalemate against Faerghus and finally roll over Derdriu!" pandering shit, because even if it came with wonderful Supreme One Liners and Replies, in CF, Supreme Leader kills her enemies herself!

Sure it comes at the cost of the most badass Shonen Explosion I've ever seen in the FE Series, and yet, for her, that explosion meant her role was ultimately reduced to the role of a mosquito : sure it's annoying and you want to smash it, but when you look around to find someone/something to smash it, you happen on an agressive venomous snake, who cares about the mosquito now?

We know how fandom is about Supreme Leader and her actions and her uwu agency - in Supreme Bullshit, we're left in the vague about what her MAGA plans entails because she doesn't finish her quest - Nopes ends before the epilogue - and it's almost as if the Nopes!devs didn't want her to deal final blows herself, or have her hands be "as clean" as possible as the ones who are erased are either peons or secondary/tertiary characters : Supreme Leader isn't the one who splits Rhea's head open in this route, Rhea and Thales take each other out, heck, she doesn't want to liberate Fodlan from inhuman monsters anymore, it's Claude who parrots to whoever wants to listen that Rhea has to die (and yet, Supreme Leader still wants to make Garreg Mach Rhea's tomb... maybe it's a considerate gesture on her part, to have her reunite with her family?) Speaking of him if conditions are reunited, he "forces her" to kill him, because he betrays her first :'(

In CF, Supreme Leader - when she finally has the means (aka Billy!) to do so - attacks all of her enemies, even turning against the Agarthans (rip cornelia?) and it's only because the plot is held by duct tape and chewing-gum that she somehow avoids retaliation because Uncle is too stupid and wasted his nukes on Arianrhod instead of nuking Firdhiad when both Supreme Leader and Rhea would be there !

However, the facts still stand : Supreme Leader dealt a blow at the Agarthans, ended the Nabatean presence in Fodlan, personally erased Faerghus' line of Kings and conquered the Alliance.

Sure she tells Balthus she will crush everyone who doesn't side with her, but when it comes to Lords/Main antagonists... when CF had her swing Aymr - even against defeated characters who fell on their knees and aren't fighting anymore - SB brings out convoluted circumstances to either has her fight because she is attacked and thus on the defensive (which is rich when she's supposed to be the invader!) by an ally whose motivation never made sense but who is now suddenly betraying her and all of his former allies who joined with her (GG Clout) or... Rhea gets her Big Damn Hero moment, fulfilling the initial promise/oath she swore on that route (help humans to get rid of Agarthans) and supposedly dies in the process, while Supreme Leader - the oathbreaker - pulls out her best impression of Tuxedo Mask "my job here is done - but you didn't do a thing" ending on a High Five.

Imo it's very telling that the only main character who can be alive at the end of SB is Dimitri - because he is the character Supreme Leader wants dead at all costs, and if the Nopes!Devs wrote Zarhofl as they did, I wonder how they could and might have justified a metting between the two that doesn't end up in Supreme Leader Aymr'ing him (maybe Cornelia would have conviently warped there and stabbed him to death, so her hands would still be "clean" ?).

In short, I prefer CF!Supreme Leader (or her FE16 version sans the pandering) because she is determinate and wants to achieve her goals, even if she has to be ruthless to do so - and we see that ruthlessness (even if it's poorly executed) in CF, Supreme Leader kills named and main characters to MAGA (and to free humanity from those vile subhumans).

In SB, she is always... put in situations where she "has to" protect herself from either backstabbing allies, or, when push comes to shove, her enemies are conveniently at the same place at the same time and take each other out : FFS, it's Rhea who takes out the leader of the Agarthans, and it's Thales who removes Nabateans from Fodlan. What is all that determination good for if, in the end, she's not the one solving the issues?

Oh, and because I'm petty like that : why the fuck the sailor fuku, seriously - sure her red dress (the one from her legendary version!) isn't as, uh, battle compatible as, say, Queen Elincia's battle outfit, and yet there's something really disturbing about the Sailor Fuku. Supreme Leader is regal, commanding, even with the red dress. Her final outfit (Willy's armor retrofitted with boobplates?) is, well, a full suit of armor, Supreme Leader is a warrior and leading her troops to victory, she will battle and fight herself even in melee.

The Sailor Fuku is... just some generic Anime design, I know she has a plate but come on, comparing this to her Emperor battlesuit, it's almost as if we're not in the same genre anymore - it's war phase now, Supreme Leader is dead serious about her plans and her ambition, she's not the "school girl who will also go to war!" - compare the three outfits, which one doesn't scream "Emperor" to you?

So yeah, short (short) story : while I like SB for Shonen explosions and more exposition about Adrestia, imo, this route is worse for Supreme Leader's agency than any other route in FE16 (AG takes the cake in its last part though!) because while she has it, in the end, she doesn't do a thing with it :

MAGA? Dimitri cannot be killed in the game, she leaves the task to Clout who doesn't do it and worse, who can betray her :( so she has to kill him :(

Frre Humanity from the sekrit nabatean illuminati and the agarthan terrorists? She just kicks them from their homes (Agarthans managed to infiltrate Adrestia, she kicks them out of her land) and they managed to take each other out.

Sure, she knows how to highfive at the end of this route, but was it really worth all those sacrifices, aka, to get rid of conqueror and determinate!Supreme Leader to have instead sailor fuku!Supreme Leader who knows how to highfive?

I know they're not meant to be compared because different circumstances and all, but can you imagine a second, a Jugdral spin-off AU much like Nopes is, where Arvis wears a high school uniform but Siggy, Manfroy and Travant accidently kill each other so he gets the continent on a silver platter without having to do any fighting or planning himself?

That's Supreme Bullshit for Supreme Leader, and that's why I think this route doesn't paint her in the best light, especially compared to her FE16 version.