#why can’t the world be kinder?

[yarafamily2022]

My little brother Ahmad is just a child.

He doesn’t understand war. He doesn’t know what a blockade means, or why Dad can’t buy us chocolate anymore.

Every day he grabs a pen and paper, draws toys and colors, and says to me:

“Can you ask them to bring us this?”

I smile… but it breaks me inside.

He asks for simple things—while we’re out here searching for electricity, water, and bread.

He keeps asking:

“Why is there no internet?”

“Why did the world go dark?”

And I don’t know what to say… except:

A war is stealing his childhood.

We haven’t received any donations in three days.

No food boxes, no help, no message of hope.

And Ahmad still draws… still waits… still believes someone will answer.

Please, if you’re reading this—help us keep his hope alive.

Even the smallest support means the world here.

Any amount you give me will help me a lot, even if it is $10.

Pray for him. Pray for us.

Maybe tomorrow will be kinder.

Tag to reach;

@mar64ds @loathsome-little-creature @justgirlythings @ear-motif @eastsid-e @musicfren @east-end-boys @queerstudiesnatural @winterwhisperz-blog @sayruq @sar-soor @femmefitz @fl4xenfields @fadingserotonin @gabrielgraetz @heavenlymusickcorporation @just--space @kordeliiius @killingflies @laughingsquid @zigcarnivorous @xgames-blog @clownhaggard @videodrome-fag @bigleafygreens @nottesilhouette @moriohripper @ot3 @sdzoo @vgjunk @rebecca-levin-art @ofieloafi @opencommunion @pigeon-smidge @sensualkisses @miope @iyimibole @troyesivan @jhnmyr @lydianax @bnmxfld @wtf-viz

My campaign verified by:

@irhabiya

@gaza-evacuation-funds

[ar-ghilas-vir-banal]

I’m so far down this spiral oh my God.

You’re Solas. You’ve had an existence of tragedy and pain and just… awful. So much awful. You’ve been hurt and you’ve hurt. You’ve ended the world. You had to. You never wanted this. You never wanted a body or to leave the Fade or to exist in this way. You wanted to be Wisdom.

Your friend branded you as a slave. She said you aren’t but… Why would she do such a thing? You try not to think about it.

Your friend convinced you to extinguish the magic and spark of an entire race. And you do it. And you’re sick. You’re sick and you can’t get well. But… it was what your friend wanted. And you loved her and… isn’t this how you love people?

She dies. You warned her, you begged her and she still… and they killed her. Her own family killed her. You’re rage. Rage and grief and you have to do something. Vengeance. Her blood calls out for it. And yours does too. The lyrium in your very bones sings for it.

And then it’s all… dead. Gone. Imprisoned. You’re nearly dead yourself. And so you sleep. For so very long, you sleep.

But now you’re walking the in the millennium aftermath of it all. You know you’re becoming something rotten not too long into this fight. Felassan fails. You don’t care about why. You don’t listen to him. Your rage rises up and you strike him.

And you’re truly alone now.

Perhaps you should’ve always been.

So you bear down and while you lack much of your former power… you find you aren’t above acquiring a tool for the job.

This admittedly horrible plan messes all the way up trying to fix what you’ve done and an innocent Dalish woman gets caught in the crossfire, one of the people who whom you’re hoping to return themselves, and now she’s got a piece of the Veil stuck in her hand.

Great. Well. Time to try to fix this enormous mess and refuse to admit that if you go through with your ultimate goal, the whole world’s going to look like this.

And then you start to fall for this woman. Not only is she a firebrand of simple goodness and kindness, she’s quite kind to you. She reaches out to you for wisdom and advice and talks with you, not at you. When you reach back to her, she meets you in the middle and tries her very best to understand. And then she protects you with the flimsy, unstable shield that your own mistake s have branded her with. She protects you in this world that hates elves and mages and apostate elven mages even more.

Your friend is bound and corrupted and she runs off to the Exalted Plains to help them. She weeps at your side as you grieve. She gives you space and then when you come back, she welcomes you with gladness. She tells you if ever you must grieve again, she’d like to be there.

She kisses you.

And you clutch her into your arms, and then again, because you suddenly realize your entire being has been yearning to touch and be touched by her for so long. You’ve never experienced anything like this. It’s intoxicating and agony and fire and the very air you need to breathe.

You are tempted to run but… you’d be without her. And you ask her to just sit and talk and she obliges, happily. She enjoys you. This mortal creature who you’ve branded with doom; she enjoys you.

You then start to wonder: has she always been this way? Maybe the Mark’s done something to her? Maybe it’s done something to me too; maybe it’s why I can’t stay away from her. So you ask and she just “mm. No, I’m me.” And you’re so incandescent about this that you shock yourself.

You tell her you’ve not forgotten the kiss. And she smiles like the dawn rising over the mountains. And you try to leave. “It would be kinder in the long run.” But she bids you stay…

You can’t fit her inside your body. But you try. You keep your hands from clawing their way into her clothes and skin but your arms lock around her like they were made to do that, and only that. You want to protect her too. You want to leave it all. You want to be Solas and her to be a simple Dalish woman and to live in the quiet woods with her and dance under the stars.

You get to. At Halamshiral, you draw her into your arms and dance until you forget you have feet and until the music is long abandoned to the sounds of night.

She does something so incredibly stupid at the Well. You want to claw your face off because she’s agreeing to what you did. She’s signing away her freedom… but then she tells you “I’ll use this to help this world as best I can”. And you feel… so seen by a person who can’t possibly see…

You will tell her. You’ll tell her everything. But when you stand in Crestwood, in the ruins of everything you did to get here… you can’t. You panic and you lie in that true way you have so it isn’t a lie but it isn’t what you meant to say. She lets you remove her culture, erase herself from who the people have become. She’s like you now. And oh whatever gods there be, she’s so beautiful that you feel like you could stare into her eyes for eternity… but… what have you done?

You’ve taken from her something she didn’t truly want to give up. You’ve made her change because you wanted her to. You’ve enforced your will on someone you told, you loved them. You’re Solas… you’re not Mythal.

You will not do this to her.

So you do then what you can only conclude is right by her. You break her heart and you break your own and there is somehow a worse pain than anything you’ve suffered before. She’s right there. All you need do it extend a hand, whisper one word. And the awful part, you’re so in love with her. You can’t help but watch her steps and listen for her voice and…

You need to leave.

You do. And you get to work. Two years crawl by. And you have your ear out for her still. It’s all part of the plan you tell yourself but you just want to keep a tether there in some form and you know you do.

Seeing her again is like falling on a spear. Shes dying. You knew she would. You knew she’d come too, curious and determined as ever. But you didn’t expect to hear her scream in pain and collapse in front of you. You go to your knees with her. You… you have to kiss her. Just one more. And you save her… you take her arm.

She tells you your love will endure and you could howl in anguish. She still loves you?! After all this? After what you’ve done? You watch the Fade bleed from her body. You ache to gather her up and take her with you. She even asked to go with you. But you know what the Evanuris were in their determined goals… what you’ll be by the time you’re done. Let her remember you as Solas… the apostate mage with stories and paint under his nails, who loved her helplessly.

You will not allow her to become another Felassan.

Eight years pass and while you’re at work, deeply committed, restless in your plans… she isn’t gone from you. Your sleep betrays you and you find yourself watching her. You watch her call out and search for you. You watch yourself, a dream, meet her and touch her and your mind burns with the hunger for just the brush of her hand. You listen to her weep over choices she made that haunt her, and you’re unable to comfort her. You can feel her terror as nightmares assail her, and if you weren’t a wolf in this form, you’d scream. You feel mad when you wake, tortured and raw and you’d run to her… but then you redouble your abstinence. Like opening a vein, you let the urge to drop everything and go find your Dalish heart and put her in your ribs where she belongs and never let her out. The truest horror of it all is she knows you’re there in all this. She can see you. She can see you refusing her, over and over and over. Ignoring her nightmares of being Blighted, ripped apart by Terrors and Shades, staring while she mourns the fallen who she sent to their deaths.

You’re a monster.

But then it’s all going to happen. Finally. And you don’t even feel energized by it. You simply think of her. You write almost automatically, as if your hand has a mind of its own. You tell her everything you wanted to scream in her dreams. Everything you wanted to in Crestwood.

Varric dies. No. No. You kill Varric.

You use Rook’s blood to make them see him. They loved him. He loved them. It’s… so cruel.

You’re a monster.

You repeat that to yourself on the steps in Minrathous. You’re barely able to keep your feet, your ribs feel pulped from the dragon’s teeth. Your skin feels hot and wet under your armor. You’re bleeding, so much so that you can taste it in your breath. The Blight burns on your lips. Your eye is blurred over with blood salt and tears.

And out of the night a voice speaks up to you that steals every single ounce of focus from your exhausted mind. You stare at her. She’s coming closer. “I forgive you!” she cries, her face pleading that you listen. She’s unarmed. She knows you killed Varric and she knows you could kill her. She knows you might. You can see it in the way she moves, the way her hands open at her sides as she moves closer.

Felassan’s face swims in your mind.

Please don’t you want to sob. Don’t make me hurt you. I’m a monster; I told you I didn’t want you to see me like this. So you try to explain again. To find some purchase on your own logic as to why this is still something you should do. Something she should allow. You look away, and you almost sigh in relief. She’s too bright; your eyes aren’t worthy of the sight of her anyway. You���ve hurt that woman so many times. And she’s still speaking of forgiveness?! FOR YOU?!

Morrigan?

Mythal.

You almost fall to your knees in front of her spirit. You can’t tell what the feeling is. Despair? Fear? Worship? Maybe all of them. But she tells you your sins are hers too. She took you from your home, twisted you… broke you. And you feel something slide off of you that somehow doesn’t make you stand straighter. You’re sick again. You’re collapsing. You’re a ruined wall, the last piece of a derelict castle on a crumbling mountain, and you’re giving way.

“Banal nadas. Ar lath ma, Vhenan.”

Mythal said that she broke you. Your being admits it. You weep, bowed, humbled… but free. You didn’t know you were shackled. But now that the chains are off, you feel it now. The chafed wounds where they’ve been locked for centuries. The sudden lack of weight that leaves you trembling and weak in its absence. You don’t remember them not being there.

But you do remember when you were able to ignore them. You remember how the Dalish woman refused to allow bigotry and hatred stop her from saving the world. You remember how she ran herself ragged for people who didn’t even care if she lived. You remember how she called them innocent.

You decide, or you are finally able to decide, that you want and perhaps have always wanted, to be like her.

So you shed your blood, not that you aren’t bleeding enough already, to ensure you’re bound to the Veil. Your life is its life.

“I will go and seek atonement.” You look into her eyes, as long as you can stand it. You hope she’ll be proud of you for finally being the hero she believed you could be. She looks back… so very beautiful. But no. No you’re not allowed to even think about that marvelous, bright creature like that.

“But you do not have to go alone.”

The touch of her hands makes you want to collapse. One of metal and wood, one of flesh and bone. She gives them both to you. Dumbly, you look at them. You’re touching her. This divine, unearthly thing is smiling at you, speaking to you. Holding your bloody, murderous, betrayer’s hands in hers. Your’s tremble and bleed. Her’s do not.

But what did she say? You don’t have to- No. No, Vhenan. Into that place? Into that prison? To war with madness and agony for eternity? No. You can’t…

“Ar ghilas vir banal.” You feel your heart crack and shatter as you say it. You’ll have to walk away from her again. You’ll have to leave her again. You’ll have to be alone, sundered from even her dreams… it’s what you deserve. And she deserves to be free of you. Finally.

But she just… keeps smiling. Her grip on your hands tightens. With a little shake of her head and a fondness on her face that you can’t begin to even fathom, she sings to you.

“Tel banal ar ama. Vir shiral la ma sa. Bellanaris.”

She comes nearer. Nearer. You wonder what she’s doing and then you realize like a slap to the face that you’re being offered a kiss.

A kiss.

You don’t think. You don’t even try. Your body screams as you bend spine and ribs and shoulder down to her. You’re filthy and bloody. She’s pristine. Gorgeous. She’s everything you aren’t.

She pauses. It’s a breath’s pause, eyes searching yours. And somehow, you know what the question in her’s means. “Do you want this?”

It’s almost hilarious.

You don’t hesitate. For the first time, you don’t. You close your eyes and let the moment wash over you. Perhaps she’ll change her mind in a little while. But for this one slice of time… you’re going to let this one thing be entirely good.

Her lips are everything your longing has has been good enough to remind you. Soft. Gentle. But also this is… so unlike anything you’ve experienced, even with her. It’s not like even the first kiss in the Fade. It’s so terribly tender that your throat tightens and your eyes burn. She’s so very gentle with you.

So you’re gentle back. You turn the Blight on your lips as far from hers as you can. You don’t yank her against you and bury yourself in her as you’d like to. You rub your thumbs over her knuckles. You caress her cheek with your nose. And when she withdraws with an even more angelic smile on her face than before…

You have to smile too. It’s as if her lips have infected your own.

Rook and Morrigan smile at the two of you. You can almost feel it, like the glow of flame. Warmth. You’ve been so cold for so long. You thank Rook. They smile at you, eyes tender. And your heart smiles at them too as you step toward the Veil. Knowing. Grateful.

Standing alone for a moment feels like standing on the edge of a cliff. You almost lurch forward, considering the decision to leave her. To make her stay. But… no. You lack the strength to rip yourself away from her again. It would be cruel to reject her promise but… if it spared her…

Her hand weighs down on your shoulder. I’m here. Let’s go. Vhenan. You can feel the words, as if touch is enough for her to speak to you. Perhaps after sharing dreams for so long, it’s true. You dare not look at her. You might shove her away.

And then you’re passing into the Fade. And you’re not alone. And you feel her hope burst into a flame of unrepentant, inextinguishable joy. Joy because of you. Joy because you never have to be parted again. Joy that you finally, finally chose her after having chosen you so many times.

You could weep and you do, with how you know you’ve made her feel. But when your feet are upon solid ground again and she is surging toward you with a quiet cry of Vhenan… you catch her. You crush her to you and she laughs, sounding like the younger woman you abandoned, and she kisses you and you kiss her because you can’t bear to do anything else. And there’s no pulling away. Even as your knees give out and your body begins to betray the amount of damage you’ve suffered, you hold each other. Her tears mix with your own and your blood and she’s all you know and all you care about. She’s real and she’s here and she is with you.

Your mind stumbles over a cluster of words that reorganize into something coherent and you almost feel disgusted at them. But then… it’s true. You know it is. If it meant her, if it meant being cradled to her even in a prison made of regret and failure and pain… safe and loved and whole, in a terrible place unmade simply because of the person hiding you in the hollow of her body… It was all worth it.

[fairycosmos]

i am tired of having to be brave i feel like i am barely living when i have to prepare myself for terror or rejection or hardship or grief every single day why can’t the world just be kinder why is it on me to develop superhuman levels of strength and resiliency just to make it through the week. i’m sick of it

[lieslab]

You know I can't fight the feeling

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: Your boyfriend's simple mistake causes him to feel like the world is ending

Genre: Reverse comfort/hurt

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I know I said there'd be a Hyunjin fic up and it will be up tomorrow. Someone posted Chan's bubble message where he said he always hurts people and that felt like being shot in the chest. Parasocial relationships aside, nobody deserves to feel hopeless and feel like they can't do anything right. If you have bubble, please be kind to the guys. To the rest of us, let's be a little kinder to ourselves, yeah? <3

_ _ _

The soft knocking on the recording studio’s door caused Chan to glance up from his laptop. The usual beats and instrumentals came to a halt quite a while ago. For the past twenty minutes, he’d been staring at the screen and letting his mind wander. 

He didn’t move, wondering which one of his members would appear. Someone probably saw the bubble message he posted and they’d be here to talk to him, but he didn’t want to talk. What was there to say? He was drowning in all the pressure from everyone and everything. 

It never goes away, not really. When you’re the leader, the eldest, the most mature, and the one that’s responsible for everyone, even when those you’re responsible for grow up, you still feel for them. There’s still a part of you that bends and contorts to make them happy. Fifty or five, it doesn’t matter. Once you start to care in certain ways, it never goes away. 

And it doesn’t help when the world is watching. Why do people want him to fall? He doesn’t know. He might never know. One minor mistake. Lately, it’s felt like a thousand. One minor mistake to you, but a million to me. 

You become a lifeline in certain situations. The emergency contact. The one person to go for advice. The leader. The father. The best. What happens when those expectations crumble? Who is there for you? 

Why do people do that? Assume someone is meant to hold all your expectations and not drop a single one? Nobody fills the role of perfection and yet, it’s still expected. Who picks you up when the world lets you down? Who picks me up? 

“Hey,” you uttered softly as you appeared in the doorway. You with a softness on your face and he knew it just by that look. The way your eyes oozed with pity. The frown that only crossed your face when you were worried. 

“I don’t want that pity.” His head went back to his laptop. “If you saw that message I posted, I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“I’m not here because of the bubble message. I’m here because the guys said you went radio silent a few hours ago and you’ve been declining their calls and leaving their messages on read without a response.” 

“Just perfect. More expectations that I’ve ruined.” He pushed the top of his laptop down with a hard thud. Your heart instantly ached at the sight. “How many more things can I ruin because of my choices?” 

“You don’t ruin things.” 

“I ruin everything.” 

Your heart sank to your stomach. What do you say to someone who holds those beliefs rooted in their heart? You can cut down a tree, but the roots still embed deep into the ground, twisting through soil, and contorting towards earth’s core. 

“That’s not true,” you whispered. 

“Of course, it’s true. It’s always true. I make one minor mistake and everyone jumps me for it. God forbid I do something wrong.” He jerks up his hands. “There’s a Dispatch article tarnishing my name. Videos get posted to social media sites with hate comments in masses. I meant it, I can’t do anything right.” 

“And what about all the other videos where you do things perfectly? The way you thank the band members who play for your shows. Thanking supporting staff when you don’t have to. Taking the time to thank the security personnel for keeping you safe.” 

“I-” 

“And what about all the time you sat on live streams giving out advice for free, to the people who genuinely needed it? All the smiling and the laughter. The vulnerable moments you shared. Those hour sessions made people feel like they weren’t alone in life.” 

His heart ached. You stepped further into the room. “And what about the staff members who gush about you? There’s a reason people call your group kind and cherish you. There’s always a reason you get photoshoots and so many interviews. It’s not just because of your company, but because you’ve created a group that cherishes kindness and passion. You believe that it’ll take you far, even when you struggle to maintain that image.” 

“But there are people who…” 

You sat the paper bag down on the coffee table behind him. A leather couch expanded. Multiple times, the guys sat on it waiting their turn to record. Changbin and Han took turns sitting beside Chan in the producer’s seat. 

When a third chair couldn’t be found, Han wormed his way onto Changbin’s lap. Other times, he squirmed onto Chan’s lap like a fussy toddler. Grumbling and huffing, stressing about recording and trying to do things right. On better days, he stretched out over them and joked that he’d stay there, pretending to be their joint child forever. 

“I know, but you have to focus on the good stuff. If you only focus on the bad stuff out there, it’ll kill you. You. Your passion. Your love for what you have. I’m here to remind you that the good still exists, even when the bad feels like it’s outweighing it.” 

He sucked in a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. “I know, but it’s so hard. It’s hard to get onto bubble and look at all the messages telling me I fucked up. I’m really trying to be better and be aware of it all. I’m trying, I swear.” 

“You’re allowed to ignore the messages. I know you like reading people’s responses and feeling giddy. There are so many places where you can go and find the outpouring love that you deserve.” 

“But the fans paid for bubble.” 

“And that’s their right, but it’s your right to create healthy boundaries for yourself. If you are receiving more hate on bubble than support, go somewhere else. You can post something on bubble and go to another site, too. Don’t read through mountains of hate because you think you have to. Stop punishing yourself simply for existing.” 

For a brief moment, a lump in his throat grew. A bottom lip quivered and right in front of you, he thought he’d break. The hate filled his heart so much, he thought it’d burst. Deep down, he knew people cared, but it was difficult to pull himself away from it all. 

Everyone wants affection and praise. Everyone wants to be seen as valid and craves reassurance. When the hate trickles in, whether it’s from friends, family, or fans; it pours. The only thing you can think of is how much you let them down. It stings. It aches. It soaks your heart in acid and it reacts by causing your brain to scream at you. 

Before the tears fell, he forced himself to place his head in his hands. Besides his bleeding heart, a sniffle sounded. For so long, he’d relied on the fans for everything. What more could he do? 

When you grow up in such a world without the constant support of people around you, you learn to rely on validation where you can get it, even if it’s not the healthiest kind. Just because his phone is filled with supportive texts and calls from family and close friends, it’s not the same as being there to hold them tight in real life. To hear their words, to take in their facial expression, to truly hear and know that you’re doing well. 

When your own worst enemy is your brain, sometimes, you begin to think the entire world is against you. All the praise you hear from people around you, you never take it to heart because you think they say that just to appease you and try to slather your hurt. You never believe it, not really; never fully. 

Deep in the trenches of the idol industry, when management forces diets and group secrets, all you have is the people around you and the fans. Always a constant steady stream of support, usually, but when one minor mistake feels like a downfall, what’s the point of any of it? 

Those thousands of minnows feel like circling sharks. Sharp teeth, gnashing jaws, and you’re just a human. Words bite into your skin and rip it apart. Blood fills the water; a weakness that they can sense and then it begins again. A never ending cycle that leaves you defeated and floating as a deceased corpse. 

It takes so long to build yourself back up. Your belief in the good. The belief that thousands and thousands of fans aren’t against you. It never turns out the way you want it to, but what else can you do when the relationships with people around you have been tricky your entire life?

Seven years alone in an industry where people come and go. Just when you think you’ve finally latched onto someone, they’re ripped away again. Forced to debut without you. Quitting because the pressure to be perfect is just too much. 

When you’re shoved into an industry that molds perfection, you’re supposed to keep it that way. Growing up in a culture where if you aren’t striving and you’re not constantly moving and pushing forward, you’re falling behind. There will always be someone better; a wolf chasing on the heels of a rabbit. 

How do you break that mindset? Breaks will not kill you. A reaction from a certain number of fans over a minor mistake is not the end of the world. Slowing down and taking a moment to breathe is a good chance to recuperate. 

You walked over and placed a hand on the back of his head. He didn’t fight you pulling his head into your stomach. His arms wrapped around your waist tightly. “Please don’t be mad at me, too.” He croaked. 

“I’m not mad at you for making a mistake. I make them, too. I brought food because I wasn’t sure if you were hungry.” 

After a few moments of closeness, he pulled away and pawed at his streaming tears. His mouth opened, but his stomach beat him to it. A growl roared before it faded into silence again. 

“Sounds like you’re starving to me.” 

He weakly laughed and nodded. “I guess you could say that, yeah. It’s been a while since I last ate.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” 

“Thank you for coming.” 

“No worries, let’s eat well together, shall we?” You smiled and glanced up. He sniffled and nodded, wondering what you bought for dinner. He watched you open the bag and let you lay out everything. 

Today, you’d feast together and tomorrow was another day; tomorrow he’d try again.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght @chrizrizz

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

Ko-fi

[strawberry-halla]

something so amazing about solas is that he is very good at predicting his enemies and his allies moves. he’s always thinking 5 steps ahead, even varric says this. (long post incoming!)

but when it comes to lavellan, he could never predict her. when he first meets her, solas thinks she’s just another dalish elf that is unwilling to listen to his advice. nope turns out she can be willing and not only that but asks him about what he knows so she can better understand the fade/spirits/ancient elves.

and then the haven dream kiss! she’s the one who initiates and solas is once again thrown off guard because he never expected that. and then he just gives into it with so much passion and fade tongue.

in all new, faded for her, solas is once again surprised lavellan agrees with his plan to free his friend, the spirit of wisdom. because nobody in the entire inquisition (except cole) would be down for this?? like all the world knows about spirits is that they don’t ever come in contact with people unless very rarely. they’re an enigma, something to be feared even because they can become demons. but nah lavellan is like ‘yep sounds good let’s go save your friend!’

and solas after this tries to rationalize lavellan’s bizarre behavior as something the anchor changed about her. because he has always known how to read people. he can’t understand her. he thinks her ‘spirit’ has changed due to magic’s influence.

but no, lavellan surprises once again by pointing out that her choices are her own or that if the anchor did change her, wouldn’t she notice? like no wonder solas is so fucking down bad. lavellan subverts everything he thought about the modern people, not just exclusively elves. she’s constantly showing him new points of view and challenging his whole mission. and so the cracks start to form.

“you show a wisdom i haven’t seen since…*pause* my deepest journeys into the ancient memories of the fade.”

“your mind, your morals, your… *pause* spirit.”

“it would be kinder in the long run. but losing you would- *cuts himself off*”

and then if lavellan drinks from the well, this conversation and the previous quest itself (what pride had wrought) just cracks solas wide open (even if she didn’t drink). he’s visibly upset because he’s afraid the well will change lavellan and he knows first hand what it’s like to do everything for someone who made the wrong choices! so solas asks what she would do with the power of the well and he’s ONCE AGAIN thrown off guard by her answer. i really like the “help the world move forward” option because it almost aligns with solas’s plan but it doesn’t.

s: “you would risk everything you have in the hope the future is better? what if it isn’t? what if you wake up to find the future you shaped is worse than what it was?”

l: “i’ll take a breath, see where things went wrong, and then try again.”

s: “just like that?”

l: “if we don’t keep trying, we’ll never get it right.”

you’d think this would be an affirmation that solas’s plan is right, but it’s not. lavellan is wanting to fix things now and shape a better future with the well’s power. it’s eerily similar, but once again a path solas didn’t consider. she surprises once more. using the wisdom from the well to help, rather than command. sound familiar? this conversation just solidifies solas’s want. to be himself and to be solas, not fen’harel, with lavellan.

so he takes her to crestwood. somewhere intimate and quiet just for the two of them. a place where the veil is thinnest because it’s easy for spirits to cross and be comfortable. solas is going to tell lavellan the truth. he’s going to abandon his plan. but then solas gets in his own head. he fights with the possibility of her rejecting him because why wouldn’t she? he’s the very god in her culture that ruined everything. what if lavellan sees him for the monster history painted him? and then he realizes why he even wanted to tear down the veil. to avenge his oldest friend and right the wrongs he did to the elves. and it all comes crashing down in not even a second.

“then what i must tell you… *pause* …the truth.”

solas backpedals so fucking hard. the reality of everything just hits him. so he quickly redirects to the vallaslin topic because it’s familiar as he looks down at lavellan’s face and sees the markings of the very gods he locked away.

remove the vallaslin or not solas still loves her no matter what. and the sad option is still my favorite here because once again solas is slipping.

s: “you have a rare and marvelous spirit. in another world-“

l: “why not this one?”

and then at the end of veilguard, lavellan does one more thing solas doesn’t expect. after hurting her, betraying her, leaving her alone without any answers, killing one of her friends, and almost succeeding in his plan, she forgives him. lavellan abandons thedas and everything she knew to be with him. to the very end, she is subverting his tragic expectations.

“this journey is not yours alone. we make it together, always.”

[candyredmusings]

Slay The Princess Sentence Starters

Sentences taken from Slay The Princess: The Pristine Cut by Blacktabby Games! Change Pronouns As Needed!

CW: Angst, Fluff, Comedic, Romantic

"Now we can both enjoy the mutual romantic subtext to this murder!"

"Yeah do you not know what The Look is? Even I know what The Look is."

"Do you think we can throw her out the window?"

"Hey you threw it out the window even though I just told you not to, I'm proud of you!" 

“WHY DO YOU HATE ME?” 

“What do you mean? This is what you wanted. Idiot.” 

"We ain't done yet, we get up."

"She asks that I tell you to remember her. You won't." 

"BEHOLD! The PERFECT woman!"

“I didn’t think you’d come back. We’re going to have a lot of fun, you and I!” 

“He’s making fun of us!”

“If only I were capable of throwing myself off a bridge.”

"Do I miss your heart because I can’t stand to see it go?"

“I will not be described into submission.” 

"By believing in your limitations you put a shackle on your neck."

"The number of stabbing implements I have is practically zero!"

"The world can't be bad if you're still in it."

"There are few things more terrifying than one's own heart, and there is almost nothing more terrifying than sharing it with another."

" ...do you not have anything witty to say? I could use a good bit of wit right now."

"The End. Nice knowing you."

"You're using a lot of words to say a lot of nothing."

"But violence and passion are dances that both of us know well."

"No. You stop that! Stop all this nonsense."

"If you want us to ignore her, then why did you tell us any of that 'wide pleadin eyes begging for mercy' business to begin with?"

"Whatever you're trying to do right now, you don't have to do it alone."

"You have no idea how good it is to hear you."

"I think you know who I am."

"HA! YOU BASTARD! Even face-to-face, you find a way to stab me in the back."

"I know you and you're hideous! Absolutely wretched! Just like me!"

"You ask of things that cannot be done."

"Why wouldn't I be kind to you? You are the only thing I know that isn't me."

"Fuck this guy. Don't trust him."

"You will have your rest in due time, and I am sorry for the burdens I place on you."

"I would never dare to tarnish our relationship by assuming myself above you."

"Names are their attempts to capture that which cannot be captured."

"Sweet! I've always wanted to off a monarch. Viva la revolucion!" 

"Oh, you bastard! You're in for it now. I'm wise to your tricks!"

“My will triumphs yours."

"We've hurt each other plenty, and I still like you."

"What nooo I wouldn't stab you."

"Why? Why did you let me do this?!"

"It takes a wretch to know a wretch, and we're all at the bottom of the barrel here."

"They're good questions. Great questions, even. But they don't have any answers."

“Do not mourn her; She has finally been heard.”

"Last time? If somebody came into my house and tried to kill me and I cut his neck open and then he stabbed me in the heart and we both died looking into each other's eyes, well, surely I would remember that! But I don't, so it must not have happened!"

"I just want to make you happy!"

"You've been kinder to me than anyone else I've met. Thank you."

“I’m not going to destroy the world, but I am going to hold it in my hands and squeeze it.”

"Oh that's right! Yeah, fuck this guy, don't trust him."

"If the world ended, how are we talking?"

"I'm going to die now! I think that's what you want."

"You've changed"

"And you've stayed exactly the same"

"I'll be damned. We're doomed."

 For everyone's sake, you're not in love."

 "They always say it's lonely at the top. I didn’t think they actually meant it."

“Ignore all the criticism. You’re doing great!” 

"She's been like me this whole time. She's just been hiding it."

 "Of course I'm not okay! I've never been okay. But maybe I needed to never be okay for us to make this happen"

[tired-biscuit]

is it weird I wanna rub my face against Logan chest hair?

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // established relationship, domestic bliss

wc: 1.2k+

———

definitely not. hairy men are hot!

like, now i’m thinking about finally getting a day to yourselves and spending the majority of it in bed. cuddling, resting, catching up after an excruciatingly busy week, with your limbs tightly intertwined and your voices soft and hushed because despite being a mutant that’s been blessed with inhuman strength, logan’s body and mind both feel so overworked and exhausted that he’s practically sinking into the mattress with a prolonged and incredibly grateful groan.

continuously fighting for the sake of being the ‘good guy’ is no small task, after all… it can take quite a toll on him sometimes — powers or no powers.

still, that specific role has been graciously placed to the back of his mind for now because he’s fresh out of the shower and he’s scrubbed all of the grime and sweat off of his skin, keeping it clean until it’s time for him to head out the door again — straight into a world where wolverine stands front and center.

but for now, he gets to be just logan. nothing more, nothing less.

and speaking of logan; his hair is still slightly damp from the previously mentioned shower. the wolfy ear-like shapes that he prefers to style atop his head have drooped slightly with the weight of the water, and the apples of his cheeks have become flushed from the steam.

the smell of the shower gel that you had picked for him a little while ago at the store mixes with his signaturely masculine, heavy scent. it only intensifies, steadily filling your nostrils when you swing your leg over his middle to pull yourself on top of him and lay your head on his bare chest.

he didn’t bother putting a shirt on. i mean, why would he, when he’s in the privacy of his own home and at long fucking last doesn’t have to look presentable — he calls it fancy, the idiot — for anyone?

but anyways, his rough hands wrap around your hips when you straddle him. he exhales deeply, the breath long and content, but it breaks into a confused chuckle when you begin to rub your cheek against the hair on his chest all of a sudden.

“uh,” he starts, arching a dark eyebrow even though you can’t see it from how busy you are with smushing your face into his tits as far as it’ll go. “should i even ask, or…?”

“just petting myself against your love rug, my dearest,” you mumble, unfazed by the curiosity that’s lacing his voice. “unlike the rest of you, it’s surprisingly soft. feels kind of nice.”

the corner of logan’s mouth twitches upwards at that. it’s barely there, less of a smile and more of a smirk, but it’s there.

“unlike the rest of me?” he repeats, clearly amused in some shape or form now.

you stop the movement to roll your eyes at him. “i meant your crazy man muscles and the whole skeleton enveloped in metal thing that you’ve got going on for yourself, not your dick, you pervert.”

there’s a second chuckle slippist past his lips, and you can hear this one rumble in the depths of his chest before he asks, “who said anything about my dick?”

you look up into his hazel eyes as you rest your chin on your knuckles, grinning at the glint of playfulness that’s residing there. his forehead is smooth, no deep wrinkle of agitation in sight. gosh, you love it when he’s relaxed and happy. it makes him appear kinder, even if you do have a weak spot for his more broody side.

“well… what else have you got that’s hard, then?” you ask, choosing to play along now.

“easy,” he replies. “my heart.”

you stare at him. he stares at you.

a steady beat of silence stretches out between you.

“pfsh,” you huff finally, immediately snickering like a girl in love. “your heart? seriously?”

“what?” he asks, stroking his fingers up and down your sides. his touch is so warm, it stirrs you into motion, lures you into grinding your hips against his own. slow and lazy and thorough — just like the way your entire day off has been spent so far.

blood rushes below logan’s waistline as a result. he readjusts, gripping you tighter by the hips, pressing you down on instinct. you can feel him poking you between your legs already. eager.

“oh, nothing,” you purr, reaching out to comb your fingers through his hair, picking up the moisture there. “i’m just a bit taken aback by this piece of information, that’s all… i mean, for a man who loves to cuddle every chance he gets and who secretly enjoys having his fruit cut up by me into tiny little slices despite possessing claws, you sure as hell don’t strike me as someone with a hard heart, you know.”

foreheads pressing against one another, you keep your voice as quiet as it can be when you add, “the truth is that you’re a softy, logan... like a teddy bear or a really good pillow, it’s always nice to have you at home. and i love you for it.”

you say it like it’s a secret.

before he can respond, you lean in to place a gentle kiss on his lips, then, just for the sake of provoking him further. his stubble scrapes your skin, prickling slightly when he pushes forward to deepen the kiss, and you can feel his strong heartbeat speed up underneath your palms.

it keeps doing that as of late. racing on and on and on… hmm.

logan looks up at you, his pupils visibly dilating as he takes you in. the shape of your face, the curve of your cupid’s bow, the love that he still can’t believe you harbour for him of all people, and that’s currently swirling inside your eyes. you even smell like love, goddammit.

he doesn’t say the words back — he can’t yet, he’s not ready but he will be, you just have to give him time, just wait for him, please — but what he does is flip you around in one smooth movement and pins you down with the help of his hand holding onto both of your wrists.

there’s no pressure behind the grip, but you know he doesn’t feel the need to apply it because he’s positive that you won’t go anywhere. and he’s so big above you now; the curve of his shoulders is broad, the muscles in his back are strong and flexing with anticipation. even his eyes have turned dark. like an animal’s that’s gone into hunt.

he hunches his shoulders slightly as he drops lower to cup your cheek and kiss you again, this time being the one to initiate it first. with the distance now nearly gone, you open your legs further for him, locking your ankles on the small of his back. he uses the chance to press the hard-on that’s painfully straining his boxers against you.

breaths intermingle as you both begin to pant. his cock is big just like the rest of him is, heavy. you squirm, lifting yourself just enough for him to help you take your shirt off. his chest presses against yours after that, sharing the warmth, sticking with upcoming sweat, making you feel the silky smooth hair that’s residing there and driving you even more wild.

“oh, by the way,” he murmurs between hot kisses, fingers already tugging on the waistband of your panties, “never say love rug again. when you need me to pet you, just tell me.”

[voxslays]

EXHIBITIONISM — THANOS

𐂐 To many, Thanos isn’t sane. Which is true, but with you, he’s different. He has a softer, kinder side when around you. A side not dominated by the effects of the drugs.

𐂐 That was one of the many reasons why when Thanos attempted to take you infront of Nam-gyu for the first time, you were so shocked. Didn’t he want to wait until Nam-gyu was out of sight before being intimate with you??

𐂐 Thanos can’t help it. His desires to show you off as he fucks your brains out is too strong. He wants to show the world how beautiful you look beneath him as he pleasures you so well, you’re unable to think of anything but him.

𐂐 Another factor is he’s slightly insecure. Why would you wanna be with someone like him? So, in his sick and twisted mind, this is like a way of claiming you for everyone to see.

𐂐 The second time Thanos does it, you give in. It’s in the bathroom during the games. You are slightly worried though. What if one of the pink guards discovers you and kills you after he finds out what you’re doing??

𐂐 But that thought leaves your head pretty quickly as Thanos starts pounding into you at an ungodly pace. And maybe you don’t hate everyone knowing you’re his after all.

[saixria]

The ICHBW live stream animatic is hitting me hard hours after the fact I’m not a crier but I’m actually tearing up. Now I can fully articulate what I love about Athena’s part. Athena’s character came together so well I love it and I think the visuals combined with a day more of thinking + discussing with friends really helped me better understand everything. Those last 90 seconds of ICHBW was the BEST PART OF THE ENTIRE SHOW. Ridiculously long Athena character analysis under the cut which quickly devolves into thematic discussion lmao

First of all, the expressions they have on the animatic makes it abundantly clear that ody and Athena weren’t separated. HER SMILE!! HER LIGHTNING SCAR!! ODYSSEUS’ EXPRESSION SOFTENED TO A SMILE AFTER GETTING OUT OF QUICK THOUGHT!! Odysseus definitely pieced together what she did for her right then, there’s no other reason for Jorge to show Athena showing Odysseus that scar otherwise. It’s like they immediately slid back into place like puzzles pieces even after 10 years. They’ve been changed in completely opposite ways. Odysseus the mortal has been turned to be less human, more ruthless, while Athena the immortal goddess has been turned to be more human, more empathetic. The latter partially because of Odysseus. Tbh Athena ever showing her face to Odysseus after My Goodbye and saying “I can’t help but feel like I’ve led you astray” is as close to an apology as it’s gonna get LMAO. The unresolved WOTM melody in the end is actually because their story together hasn’t ended, it’s because Odysseus doesn’t have to be her warrior of the mind anymore.

I once said that open arms is more than mercy, but treating the world kindly to lead to kinder souls down the road, to change the world for the better, and it holds true even more now. Odysseus is too tired for this. He’s just a man, he knows a better world is possible but he can no longer be a part of it. He can’t witness the better world in his short mortal lifetime, he just wants his happy ending with his wife. He doesn’t want to be Athena’s warrior of the mind anymore, and that’s ok. And yet, and yet he knows it is possible. He needs it to be possible, and he needs Athena to make it possible. Athena accepts it with a soft “very well”. That doesn’t mean they won’t ever see each other again, just that they no longer have that obligation of mentor-student, they’re just two old friends. They can rebuild their relationship slowly but surely with what they have.

Telemachus is the Warrior of the Mind now (AHHHHHH HIS ATHENA CAPE AND HELMET I LOVE HIS UPGRADE). From here, Telemachus and Athena are gonna truly fulfill Athena’s mission of “making a greater tomorrow” except it isn’t to turn the world more logical and ruthless like she once thought, but to make the world more empathetic and kind — she’s finally found what she was fighting for. Perhaps this is why the WOTM melody in God Games ended with Legendary — Telemachus is the new warrior of the mind. Odysseus fought for a world where his son can be safe and grow up kind and he succeeded in that. Far from war, Telemachus grew up able to afford kindness and empathy while also retaining the ability to be ruthless in face of obstacles — and now he can use this to change the world to Athena’s new ideal — where people held each other with more empathy — as Athena’s new Warrior of the Mind.

Athena’s verse existing is a sign of her reconciliation with Odysseus (in character might I add! I don’t think they’re the type to express their affection so easily, they know each other so we’ll that they just know), so instead her verse is there to expand on the show’s theme as I will be talking about next.

I absolutely adore the depth Athena’s ICHBW verse adds to the thesis of the show. I’ve always thought of epic as mostly being about how it was best to strive for a balance between ruthlessness and open arms, but circumstances only allowed Odysseus to become ruthless which was tragic, while different circumstances allowed Telemachus to be both. But it’s not just that. Sure it’s good to have a balance between the two ideaologies but what if we could make a world where ruthlessness wasn’t needed at all? What if we could be unconditionally kind and be treated with kindness in return instead of taken advantage of or hurt? Where, when given the choice between open arms and ruthlessness, people would choose open arms? It wasn’t possible for these characters, but it could happen someday in the future. If Athena and Telemachus can work towards that future so can we. So should we, considering we’re in a much better place compared to them. A friend of mine said this was a call to action to us in the present and I just. Have not been able to stop thinking about it.

Athena has always thought in “maybes” about her purpose. from WOTM to My Goodbye we’ll be fine to ICHBW. “Maybe one day…” -> “One day you’ll…” -> “maybe if I…” -> “what if…” it’s like she’s representing the future, the “greater tomorrow” of what could be, because as Odysseus said, she’s immortal and she will live to see it and change it. Circe saga has something similar — “Maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road”, “maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more, or maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer more”. The connection of these hypotheticals “maybe one day” with a future world that could possibly be changed for the better by spreading kindness and open arms extends from Athena’s songs to There are Other Ways, one of the only times in the musical where, when Circe could choose between ruthlessness and mercy, she chose to show mercy and help them in hopes of spreading kindness to the world and making the world a slightly better place — aka a scenario that showed how unconditional kindness, “open arms”, could work, for kindness isn’t the inability to be cruel but choosing kindness even when you have the choice not to be. “Kindness is brave”, like Polites said.

Because of her immortality, Athena is the character who’s most connected to “time” in the musical with her time-related abilities like “time dive”, making people think quicker, having a domain essentially outside of time and space… She doesn’t just have a connection with the future but also the past. As someone who lives forever, she is the one who can connect the past, learning from past mistakes, to change the future: “To fall is to learn one way”.

Speaking of her connection to time, You can almost see that at one point Athena was the narrator of the story (see cut songs: full speed ahead demo and Ismarus) like Hamilton’s Burr: simultaneously an observer and a participant of the story. In the animatic of ICHBW she’s overseeing everything happening from her hour glass, wondering out loud from a meta perspective about the themes of the show, hypotheticals of what a different story, a different world could have looked like, and bringing everything to a close. It really feels like Athena is who’s gonna “live and tell their story” as per Hamilton, as always has been the case from burrthena narration days of Old Epic. She’s not just the bridge between the past and future but also between the story and the audience, by bringing up these themes on a meta level to directly tell the audience to make the world a kinder place, because we have the choice, unlike Odysseus who can only choose to accept his actions and move forward. Because she lives forever she can carry on their memories forever. She can keep telling their story over and over again to remind herself and others to change the world by showing empathy and open arms, and she will keep telling this story to us until ruthlessness is no longer needed in the world. The world where this is possible is not theirs but OURS. It is WE who have the chance to choose between ruthlessness and open arms and the show is telling us that, when we have this choice and aren’t forced to be ruthless, to always choose kindness and empathy. Like Circe, like Telemachus. So that we may impart some kindness unto the world and make it a better place.

“Maybe one day we’ll reach them and we’ll make a greater tomorrow then they’ll see I know we’ll change the world cuz we are the warriors of the mind!” — yes, they have reached us. We are all also warriors of the mind, doing our part to change the world for the better, to be kinder.

To me, one part of Athena’s character that’s never clicked for me was her motivation in WOTM. “Make a greater tomorrow” “we’ll change the world” why? How? What’s the point of including this in her song when it’s never come back up again? Now with the ICHBW verse, everything is tied up with a beautiful ribbon. She has always wanted to change the world for the better, and now she’s finally found out how — to spread empathy and Open Arms — and it’s inspired by the desire to help her friends, to prevent what happened to Odysseus from happening again, honoring him, just as how Odysseus tried to embrace Open Arms to honor his dead friends’ memories.

All in all, I’ve grown to genuinely really really like Athena’s verse in ICHBW. It’s so short but so effective at conveying so much. I hope that made sense bc it’s more a compilation of thoughts I had rather than a structured essay. Perhaps one day I will restructure this into a proper essay but not today for after all I’m- *gets shot

[blue-mood-blue]

I have been thinking about the blackening (as one does)…

…and it’s so interesting to me, the penalty Shen Qingqiu is faced with should he not decide to yeet his disciple into hell.

Account termination. Instant death. Sent directly home to his already-long-dead body, and that’s it for the villain of the piece who outright refuses his villainy. The protagonist needs a blackening for the story to continue, and Shen Qingqiu is going to provide it or get written out of the narrative. Either way, Luo Binghe is going to lose him. Either way, this is a turning point.

I wouldn’t claim that this is the intent of the penalty, but it fascinates me that the System has, potentially, backed the plotline into a corner - because Binghe still stands to be blackened even if Shen Qingqiu took the other choice.

Think about what that would look like, to him. He’s at the Immortal Alliance Conference, and everything is going wrong. He’s been outed as a demon, and not just a demon - the top tier of demon, as bad as it gets from the perspective of a righteous cultivator. His beloved teacher, the person who has been kindest to him and opened his home and heart to him, is standing there with his sword in hand, deciding what he’s going to do about what must look, to him, like a horrific betrayal. Binghe is apologizing. Binghe is begging for his life.

Shen Qingqiu hears him. Maybe it shows on his face, or in his voice, that he already knew; maybe there’s no hint at all, but Shen Qingqiu is suddenly talking quickly with an abrupt sense of urgency that Luo Binghe is having a hard time keeping up with. Telling him he’ll be wonderful - telling him he’s the best. Telling him the world will be his, with emotions cracking through that aloof mask that Binghe has never seen on Shizun’s face before, and it’s terrifying for reasons that Binghe cannot identify.

(He will, later. When he has time to think, he’ll realize it sounded like a goodbye.)

And then Shen Qingqiu is bleeding. And then Shen Qingqiu is on the ground. And then Shen Qingqiu is dead. There’s no countdown for Binghe - there’s no System, there’s no warning, there’s no answers.

Luo Binghe is a heavenly demon in the middle of a conference sabotaged by demons. Luo Binghe is alone. His fellow competing disciples are scattered, some dead or injured. The Peak Lord of Qing Jing Peak, the second in command of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, maybe the only person he loved and who loved him back, is dead at his feet. No one will believe him if he says it isn’t his fault.

(He can’t believe it isn’t his fault.)

What choice does he have but to run? The last heavenly demon the cultivation world went up against has been sealed under a mountain for years, and one of the people responsible for that is probably looking for Shen Qingqiu already. They’ll be looking for him, too. There isn’t anywhere to hide; there isn’t any time to mourn.

There isn’t even enough time to ask why. Why again.

There is no closure waiting for him, because there is nothing to explain what happened. It just is.

It would be a different kind of blackening, certainly - less intense, probably, less of a warping, desperate thing. But how many times can one person have all the love and safety in their world torn out from under them before it starts to show? Before they just don’t allow things like love and safety to touch them, because that’s the better option?

Interesting to consider that, simply by offering the choices it did, the System rigged the story to guarantee that Luo Binghe would end up in hell (deliberate or not).

Interesting to consider that, even if Shen Qingqiu made what might have seemed like a kinder choice, there was every chance it wouldn’t have been.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

okay i have THOUGHTS about this line

he didn’t have to say that to make his plan work. i mean yeah, being nice to the player definitely earns their favor and future assistance, but he could have just as easily gone the route of gaslighting them into feeling bad and like they caused the problem, eliciting a more shame-based and desperate and less uplifting and righteous kind of reliance. like if volo really hated the player, and was truly cruel, that’s what he would have done. the player would have still gotten the chain and felt indebted to him for the plate hunt, but they also would be miserable and feel lonely and hurt and confused. but volo doesn’t do that, he grounds the player and validates their feelings, which were hurt by the cruel townspeople more than the event volo caused to prompt that cruelty. like truly, it’s only volo’s fault that the player gets banished through the most like simple calculated logic—yes, if he hadn’t caused the rift, they wouldn’t have been banished, or brought here at all. but kamado CHOSE to banish them based on his own paranoia and disdain for outsiders, and the others enabled it by choice. volo didn’t make that happen, just how he didn’t make or even want arceus to get the player involved in the first place.

i don’t think volo hates the player, personally, at all. or at least, i think that he hates them and cares for them just as much as he hates and cares for himself. i know this isn’t groundbreaking volo theorizing material, but he’s absolutely projecting his disdain for society based on his vague past experiences here. he dislikes the outsider because his plan demands it, but he dislikes everyone else because he personally thinks they’re terrible. it’s kinda neat how he “fake” compliments the player’s loyalty to him as a merchant so often, bc i think loyalty is something he actually takes very seriously. and he probably saw how loyal the player was to the galaxy team, and then the way they kicked them out, and was genuinely pissed and hurt on the player’s behalf.

the things he says at the end of the game are said in extreme distress and defeat, and while they are not NOT reflective of his character and motives, i’m shocked by how many pokemon fans regard volo like he’s a nihilistic and amoral sociopath. passion and compassion are behind nearly everything volo does, for better or for worse. they’re behind moments like this, and moments like his ranting at spear pillar. he is a person who constantly grapples to align his personal moral code and lofty ideals, which live in this weird space between the manmade and divine, with the flawed reality of existence. his entire mentality is full of contradictions, because he is a man who thinks he should be god, but in reality could never be a good god, because he is still very much a man. it’s the emotion, idealism, and intellectual curiosity of humanity that drive him, not the impartiality, absolutism, and complacency of an omnipotent all-knowing deity.

so like, with this line. he specifically mentions that the galaxy team has treated the player poorly. not that the galaxy team’s choice was illogical, not that the player just needs to try harder to get them to accept him. he is emphatically rejecting the premise that the player did anything to deserve blame, even though he has no intention to actually explain why this really happened or volunteer himself to take the blame. because ultimately, volo is not the person to blame for the galaxy team’s cruelty, and he knows it. and he also knows that it’s the cruelty that has hurt the player, more than the sky problem itself, because he has been treated like an outsider too. and he can’t DO anything about that. even if he told the truth, the damage has already been done. the player knows how their supposed allies would react in this situation, regardless of the logic or truth. and volo can’t fix that. he does not believe he can make people kinder or the world a better place, which is exactly why he wants so badly to remake it. for himself, bc clearly he’s been through some shit too, for people like the outsider, and for anyone else whose loyalty and dedication have been met with rejection and apathy. which is so deeply tragic and ironic, because by being the only person to care for the player in this moment, he is making the world a better place for them.

volo is, at his core, a hypocrite. he’s like if you put the ingredients for a hero into a blender, but accidentally used the “tragic hypocrite” setting so he came out a janky villain instead. to volo, concepts like loyalty and self-righteousness are driving forces, much moreso than simple black and white morality or consequentialism. this makes him a hypocrite because he believes a perfect world is possible as long as his moral code is strictly followed, and his evil plan is to prove it. but in his efforts to do so, he proves over and over again that a perfect world isn’t possible, and certainly would not be possible under his control.

like, okay—if someone suggested that the means of pain and suffering in the world justified the ends (the world), volo would disagree and claim that arceus is responsible for the pain and suffering, and therefore does not deserve the power to create/rule worlds. but then, following that very same logic, if volo needed to get a random person banished and betrayed in order to create his better world, then those means wouldn’t justify his ends either. which is WHY we see him subconsciously draw a line here, between the things he’s not responsible for (other people being cruel, arceus transporting the player) and the things he is directly responsible for (the way he treats the player in these circumstances, either with derision or support). and wouldn’t you know, in this instance where it truly is up to him what the means are to his ends, he chooses kindness where he could have been cruel. because while arceus sending the hero and the town banishing them weren’t really Volo’s means to Volo’s ends, this conversation sure as hell could be. And he doesn’t want his better world built on a foundation of suffering and pain.

by saying this one line and treating the player as he does here, i think volo accidentally exposes something deeply true and good about himself. this man could say “i’m a villain and i don’t care about the player” and fully believe it, but at the same time demonstrably possess the morals and compassion of a hero, which he uses to actively care for the player. he is a delusional hypocrite, but he’s definitely not heartless. and i just think that’s neat.

alternatively, volo is completely heartless, knows that people are endeared to people who want to protect them, and methodically uses that knowledge here for his convenience. that very well could have been the intention, and it makes sense too—but i personally enjoy entertaining the notion of depth where i see potential for it. so yeah.

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

Geoffrey and Bob Karaoke selection- Creep - Radiohead

AN: A little more insight on Nancy and her major: Nancy is majoring in architecture. The Landgraabs are famously known for owning land and property- both residential and commercial- and Nancy will eventually operate the part of family business that will allow her to design houses, buildings and other structures in addition to leasing. (Geoffrey comes from a family of doctors but he decided to get a business degree- as he knows this would likely please Nancy's parents)

Transcript under the cut

Siobhan: Think about it, Nancy! Making your mark on this university—on the world—begins with Theta!

Becca: Nice one, you two.

Nancy: They only want me to join their organization because it’ll benefit them. All they care about is money -Ouch!

Geoffrey: [winces] Sorry. Your knees are completely raw.

Geoffrey: They’ve only got as far as knowing your name. If you give them a chance to get to know the real you-

Nancy: There’s nothing to know! Why do you think I had my parents make arrangements so I’d have my own room? I don’t want roommates. I don’t want friends! I just want to do my time so I can-

Geoffrey: Get away, I know...but what if you just take the next four years to have fun? It’s ok to just enjoy it for what it is. Isn’t that what college is all about?

Nancy: [scoffs] Sure, for you. You don’t have the same expectations as me.

Nancy: You can be anything you want. You can join any sports team; you can switch your major a million times if you want to. I have to excel at everything I do, whether I want to or not, and I cannot come out of this a failure. I have to be ready to start working along with my parents the moment I graduate.

Geoffrey: I just want you to be happy. I want you to take care of yourself. Be kinder to yourself. Give yourself the benefit of the doubt. You’re a good person. You’re an amazing person, Nancy. Anyone would be lucky to be apart of your life.

Geoffrey: Does this hurt?

Nancy: Yes. It hurts.

Nancy: You’re too good for me.

Geoffrey: Don’t say that.

Geoffrey: It’s Karaoke night at Tab’s. Bobby and I wanted to check it out. Did you want to go?

Nancy: I think I’ll pass. I should get started on this project for Munch. I want to get ahead.

Geoffrey: If you change your mind, come down and unwind a bit. Have fun. Eat. Ok?

Nancy: Ok.

Geoffrey: I love you, Nance.

[door shuts]

Nancy Narrates: [I’m holding him back. A selfish part of me knows it, but I can’t fathom the thought of losing someone else]

[distant laughter]

Nancy: Heavenly Father, help me to find peace in Your love and wisdom-

Geoffrey and Bob Karaoke Pick: Creep by Radiohead I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here

[crowd whistles and cheers]

I don't care if it hurts I wanna have control

I want a perfect body I want a perfect soul

Morgan: [hums] Upright High Priestess. That’s twice now. Once again, my intuition is being called forth.

I want you to notice When I'm not around

Morgan: My appetite is off. I can’t focus. If I weren’t on the pill, I’d think I was knocked up. So. What does that leave me with? I can almost bet this is all connected to-

Morgan: You! You have something to do with this.

Nancy: [frowns] Do with...what, exactly?

You're so fuckin' special I wish I was special

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo

Morgan: Rich Christian girl with walls as high as Berlin stumbles on campus and taps my shoulder. I had a dream the night before that I placed an injured dove back into its nest. I think this is fate. Sit. I’ll do your reading. Free of charge, of course.

Nancy Narrates: [I didn’t know it then, how right she was. About fate. About everything]

What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here

[strawbeerossi]

August || Chapter Two

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Chapter Description: Spencer confides his guilt of losing you as a friend into JJ and he hatches a surefire plan to get you back. In the meantime, you are still struggling to pick up the pieces of your broken heart. Although mourning is slowly manifesting into exhaustion.

Content/Warnings: Guilt, Spencer trying to buy friendship, reader is a tad hostile, threats of violence, a special interaction at the end.

WC: 2.5K

Navigation || August Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Request

🏷️ @sadroses98 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @cultish-corner @s0urmarvel @measure-in-pain @yourfavoritefangirl @imjustheretoreads-blog @bookworm003 @finnysmusic @itsbritney123 @hizzielover @tlou-reid @babyspiderling @sunsebaessie @lilrios-world @reidsdaisies @heleaflm @emotionalecho @witchcraftandwit @azxulaa @small-and-violent @corpsebridenightamare @iselmeraz @mynameisnotokay @mcira @busywyourmom @reidloversisforever @staygoldsquatchling02 @sabage101 @maybe-not-this @whydoineedabloggirl @dckgzz @thebloomingeagle @lightreiding @queenbloody @marimarvelfan @renjunniex @spicycalabaza @spookyparadisesheep @uneducateddd-blog @wannabewolf @evvy96 @reap3erslov3

“I can’t believe that she said that!” JJ stared at Spencer in shock, the male sulking on the couch while he brought a hand up to rub his face. “So now she is just abandoning you? Some friend.” She murmured.

JJ felt she did nothing wrong. After all, you and Spencer weren’t dating and the confession was life and death at the time. She never assumed he would approach her and ask her if what she said was true. She could accept how she’d be the villain to Will but that was neither here nor there.

“I just feel like I was too harsh at the moment. I know it’s the truth but I could’ve been kinder to her about it..” Spencer had been going over the full interaction in his mind for hours, worried about wherever you stormed off to. He could take a hint, you didn’t want him to follow so he stayed with Penelope, who looked at him with disappointment and disapproval. It was never easy to swallow whenever even the lovable blonde knew that you were in the wrong.

“What more could you have said?” JJ asked, face softening as she was sitting beside Spencer while her gaze was fixed on him. “You told her that you didn’t assume it was serious. That’s the truth. She's upset with your honesty, that’s hardly your fault. She will have to get over it.” 

The more they talked about it, the worse that Spencer began to feel. Sure, you had feelings that he didn’t know about prior to the JJ situation but there was a lot more that he still could have done. He couldn’t help but ponder what could’ve happened if he explained everything to you right after they were released from their hostage situation. 

You could’ve talked some sort of sense into him, maybe something along the lines of a nicer reminder of JJ’s husband and children. He was blinded by devotion and adoration to JJ, quite frankly, he still was. Regardless, he couldn’t afford to completely lose you, not after the way you’d worked so hard to get him to open up to you.

All he needed was to figure out how to make things better. It would take a lot of time and effort but he knew that just as you had broken his wall down whenever you first started, he could break yours down as well.

You weren’t interested in those games. Spencer had begun approaching you at the office a few weeks after your last conversation. He would bring you your favorite desserts, a coffee, sometimes even flowers in an attempt for reconciliation. 

Luke definitely appreciated the gesture though, being the lucky one to get whatever beverage or food item that Spencer tried putting on your desk. It was annoying, truth be told. You set a firm boundary, one that you assumed he’d be more than happy to follow. After all, JJ was the light of his life now, you didn’t understand why he was so focused on you again. With the way she continuously followed him around, it seemed as if they were plenty happy.

Just like every day, you walked to your desk on a bright Monday morning to see a muffin sitting on your desk. Spencer was trying to be sly, hand against his cheek as his eyes were subtly looking in your direction. 

However, the pattern continued much to Spencer’s dismay. 

“Wow, thanks.” Luke was grinning as you held out the baked good towards him, happily reaching for the muffin. In the first few instances, you felt bad for Spencer, your heart still holding out hope for reconciliation and the chance for him to change his mind and just be with you instead.

That dream was massacred worse than the murders from the likes of George Foyet and Mr. Scratch. Especially when you realized it was almost as if he expected to be immediately forgiven, even though his actions could never warrant instant reconciliation. 

“It’s gonna take more than confectionary goods and coffee.” You stated in a simple tone, eyes down on your desk as you could feel Spencer’s eyes fixated on you. “I’d hope you’re not ignorant enough to believe that buying my friendship is all it takes.” 

“Right..” Spencer frowned while looking away, fingertips drumming against the wooden desk. “I’m trying.”

“Not hard enough.” 

He could admit his attempts were lazy, the idea of getting treats being a shot in the dark. You wouldn’t speak to him, so he was having to sift through every single idea in his brain. He may have been a genius but he was horrible with apologies, never being able to articulate the words he needed to say without the stress of offending anyone being there. The words were hard to find for him. 

He could give a profile, intricate details about victims and serial killers as well as absorbing every ounce of their past and personality. He could apply that same logic here, although he felt like treating you like a victim or a serial killer wouldn’t make things any better. Probably even worse. 

Regardless of that, he was more than determined to rekindle your friendship, even though deep down he knew that it could never be the same. Being complacent in the end of a marriage made nobody look good, he should’ve had the common sense to think of that before.

“I don’t understand why things have to be this way.” JJ spoke up, a mug of coffee in her hand as she was walking from the kitchenette. “We can talk about things, make them a little easier. I mean, I think a conversation is long overdue.”

You were shaking your head. “I have nothing to say to either one of you. I wish you would get it through your thick skulls. You had a chance to talk to me after everything happened and you stayed quiet. It shows what your intentions were. You aren’t ashamed of what you’ve done and you clearly didn’t care about the fate of our friendship at the time, so I see where I stand.”

“I just think it’s unfair. That’s all. Spencer is trying.”

“Life is unfair. He should try harder.” You responded, calm and collected so as to not get yelled at by Emily again for an outburst. You didn’t have the energy to yell at them anyway, they weren’t worth it.

“I don’t know what else you expected.” Matt spoke up from his desk, leaning back in his chair. He hardly ever got involved but this situation was enough to frustrate him and his wife. “JJ, you knew what you were doing when you decided to pursue Spencer. Not only did you betray a friend but you ruined your own marriage over it. You had vows with Will and completely tore them up and burned them in front of everyone.”

Spencer was sighing from frustration from his desk. “I understand what was wrong about this situation but continuously bringing up the incident isn’t going to benefit anyone..” He spoke while bringing a hand up to rub his face.

“You can’t handle hearing what you’ve done. It’s natural for people who feel guilty.” Luke hummed as he let his arms cross. You really did have the whole team on your side, it seemed. That helped more than ever, honestly. 

“You’re biased in this case. We all are. Arguing will get us nowhere.” You spoke up, a soft sigh leaving your lips. “You think you did nothing wrong and we all know that you did. That’s all there is to it. Just let the fantasy go. I’m not interested in friendship with either one of you. Not now anyway.” 

It was honest, mainly due to the fact that you didn’t want to spend all your time talking about the possibility of friendship after such a stab to your heart.

“I think you should at least allow us to extend the olive branch. Spencer at the very least,” JJ began while putting her hands together. 

“Giving me a branch will only result in you getting beat over the head with it. I told you, I’m ot interested in pretending that things are okay and that I’m perfectly happy with the both of you. That’s not going to happen. I’m telling you that if you want to salvage any morsel of a friendship, you need to leave me alone.”

That seemed to be enough to make Spencer look back down at his desk, gaze fixed on the file on his desk although he couldn’t bring himself to focus. He didn’t want to have things completely ruined between you both, even if the blueprints for that were there. He felt anger, anger at himself for his way of going about the whole relationship business. He wasn’t made aware of the feelings you once had until it was too late for that to even be discussed.

JJ was angry but not at herself, more-so at the fact that you just weren’t open to the shortest of discussions. Explanations were always used to clear up negatives in every aspect of life. This was no different. “But-”

“Jennifer. Just let it be.” Spencer spoke up with a frown on his face. The use of her first name meant business, that was what made her stop and turn to face him. “Leave her alone. She’s not interested right now. We can talk to her some other time.”

You were thankful, however you didn’t acknowledge the action. 

After that, it was seemingly smooth sailing. Your day was spent finishing case files and ultimately filing them away whenever things were finished. It was honestly the most peaceful you’d been in weeks. It did feel weird, not having Spencer following you like a lost puppy and making an attempt to reconcile.

You oddly.. Missed it. 

Spencer didn’t deserve any of the feelings you felt towards him but you just couldn’t turn off those feelings. Not in the slightest. You still harbored love and care. You needed to put that love and care into yourself, to learn to move on and release any thought of what could have been. 

You were torn from your thoughts when you felt a hand against your shoulder, the touch startling you enough to make you quickly turn around. You were met by Emily offering a small smile back at you. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just saw you standing here for a while and I had to check up on you.”

“It’s fine. I, uh, I’m okay!” You offered a smile to match hers. “Just thinking of some stuff.”

“Well, Penelope has expressed concern to me, as has everyone else, so I just figured that you needed someone to talk to. I don’t like to brag but.. I am a very good listener.” She mused, her hand moving from your shoulder to rest by her side once more. 

Of course Emily would approach you. You could talk to her about anything without being shamed, even if she could tell you the harsh truth when you needed to hear it. That was why you admired her so much. She was strong, confident. A woman who would speak her mind without fear of anything.

“We obviously don’t have to talk here. We can go to my office, if you’d prefer.” She was trying to get you out of your own head, to help you heal in a constructive way. You were mourning the loss of friendships and she was the one out of everyone else who could understand the complexities of your feelings. She mourned the loss of the team in a far different manner in her past but she knew all the same.

“Yeah.. Okay.” You reluctantly agreed, following close behind as you both made a b-line to her office. You felt stupid, having to cry about how a relationship that isn’t even your own has deeply affected you. 

The minute you were in the safety of her office, you felt an aura of safety. This room was a place where you could speak freely, to rant about your feelings and even shed a few tears all while being in the confinement of the office.

Once that door was shut and the blinds were drawn, you took in a breath. “I don’t want you to think that I’m overreacting.”

“You’re not. You know that you are allowed to have feelings. My only issue is what those feelings are doing to you. I’ve never seen you so upset before.” She said softly while getting seated at her own desk. “Everyone needs to vent sometimes, even if the other person is just listening. I just want to help you in an effort to move past this.” She admitted.

“I also want to make an effort to help you. I want you to grow stronger from this experience rather than cower down and refuse to accept the fact that they are together. I love you, dearly. That’s why you need to know that they shouldn’t bother you. That whole situation is a shitshow and I know that. I just want you to mourn the loss of your friendships and not sulk over this relationship..” 

The lecture was much needed, forcing you to soak up the fact that she was right. You shouldn’t be heartbroken over them. Your friendships were one thing to be upset about but their relationship was none of your business. “I can understand where you’re coming from. I just.. Em.. I don’t know how to deal with this situation. It’s hard to even think about the situation. Maybe it’s the betrayal from JJ that hurts so much.”

“Betrayal can hurt anyone. Believe me, I know. I just want to see you thriving. Between you and I, I feel like you could do much better than him. I used to root for you both but after this nonsense? I’d rather see you with someone who will appreciate what they have. Friend or not. If you and Spencer could work out your friendship, then I’ll be happy. I just hope you consider these circumstances later.”

“Right. I just told him and JJ that I need my space from them. Working with them is one thing but I have no desire to talk to them outside of the work environment.”

“And that’s fine. Just don’t let these negatives throw you off when it comes to your job. Getting along will make things easier, work conversation is a part of that.” Emily wasn’t going to force you to speak to either of them outside of cases and work hours. That wouldn’t be constructive at all.

“Please don’t think that I’m not looking out for you. I’ll always be here for you,” The raven haired beauty said softly as she was reaching over the desk to gently take one of your hands in hers, a reassuring smile on her face as her thumb swiped over your knuckles.

It was oddly.. Affectionate. More affectionate than you were used to coming from Emily.

[v3nusxsky]

DarkDomReader x SubLarussa where reader sees Morticia/Marilyn getting touchy with Larissa and they stop her, taking Larissa home and facing into oblivion to remind her who she belongs to?

Promts 27,37,41??

Hers to keep 18+

*Authors note~ outstanding uni work✨but✨ fics for advent need to breathe their first breaths. And in the words of Rio vidial “I’ve missed you”*

Trigger warnings ~ dark ish? Reader, sub Larissa, jealousyyyy, reader has a rough past hints to abuse and neglect as a child foster care etc, begging, breeding kink, daddy kink, oral sex (Larissa receiving), degrading with a dash of humiliation, very light pet kink (Larissa literally gets called kitten and that’s it), slightly toxic r?, strap on sex (Larissa receiving), oral stap (r receiving), praise/reasurance, aftercare

Prompt ~ see ask^^^

@dingdongthetail and @pebbleswritessometimes for pre reading some parts

To say you’d healed from the past was a lie, your scars remain as jagged and raw as they did in the beginning. Invisible to everyone else but you. Perhaps that’s why Larissa doesn’t seem to notice your clear discomfort around Marilyn. Now you are no fool, you know Larissa has been hurt before, her own father being the first to show her a cruel hands touch. But you knew your girlfriend had her aunt to fall back on. At least one person in her corner, she was wanted. And although you knew she deserved all the love in the world, the jealousy sat simmering underneath the layers and layers of masks you put on. Truthfully, you admire your lover, she’s so strong, kind hearted and intelligent. Everything you wanted to be but got told you would never be. The past, your past, would define you for the rest of your life. She was wanted, in Nevermore, by you and the students and her aunt.

You however were not. Your whole life was spent fighting for love and acceptance. Your own mother was disappointed the day you were born. Nothing but a reminder of your father, who mind you left as soon as he found out you were created. Disappointment. Right from the start. And she made sure to remind you ever since you could remember that it’s all you’d ever be. Growing up in a home with the absence of maternal love, and the basic necessities to survive made life more complicated for you. Yet you fail to see what Larissa sees. She sees you for who you are, your heart, mind and soul. The fact you are still fighting is a true testimony to your character. You have no one to thank but yourself for getting here. A lovely girlfriend, an education, a roof over your head and food on the table. Most importantly finally experiencing love. And yet you refuse to accept that you did that. You made it. All that noise from your long, onyx covered, twisted forest of a past are wrong. You made it.

You find it hard to understand why Larissa would choose you. All your life you’ve never been good enough, there’s always someone better, prettier, nicer, kinder and well rounded than you. And you know that. You’ve experienced and accepted that. Perhaps that is why jealousy cripples you. Terrified of losing the only good thing in your life. Her. The same gorgeous goddess who Marilyn is currently monopolising all her attention. Sure, it’s a work function so it’s completely normal for the principal to be the one everyone wants to see. You know that. Understand that even. But the irrational part of you wants to keep your golden girl to yourself. Safe. Yours. Yet you can’t. So you sit here nursing your first and only drink on the night, eyes stalking her every movement. Just incase.

You and Larissa talk in great depth about your feelings and how to best help you heal and grow while maintaining a healthy relationship for you both. Larissa loves how protective you are of her. It makes her feel safe and wanted but she wishes you didn’t feel so inferior to everyone. So much so she spends extra time to build you up, to reassure you of her feelings for you. And that works most of the time. Apart from tonight.

The second you catch the ginger teachers pale hand on Larissa’s shoulder somethings snaps inside your messy mind. The fact Larissa didn’t instantly remove herself for the situation only further fuelling your irrational fears. Larissa was comfortable. This other woman touching what you considered to be your person. Your lover. Yet you remain rooted to the spot, taking in every single second of the interaction on high alert. You watched the way Marilyn trailed her hands down your lovers arm as she laughed at something Larissa said. You couldn’t help but notice how her eyes lingered seconds too long when Larissa was sipping her wine, licking her lips or simply shifting her weight from one leg to the other. Marilyn was practically undressing her despite the fact you were right here. And that’s what caused you to stride over to Larissa with an unmatched bout of jealousy and fury. The two emotions crashing around you like tidal waves in a storm.

You immediately made sure to let your arms wrap around your lover. Obviously staking your claim to the other woman. “Who’s your friend darling?” You couldn’t help but borderline snarl the word friend, eyes flicking up to Marilyn’s. “Marilyn is teaching bounty for me this year my love. She’s just here to get to know the staff before she starts in the new school year” her words fell on deaf ears. “Well she’s certainly getting to know you very well” you quipped before completely ignoring the red head, “Larissa I feel rather unwell, I’ll head back to OUR room” you mumbled spinning the blonde in your arms to join your lips together. “Have a nice evening Marie” was all you offered before detangling yourself from Larissa, “don’t be too long baby.”

You knew it wouldn’t be long before Larissa made her way to you. You paced your shared bedroom trying to clear your head. You know Larissa’s yours. It’s clear. But the idea of someone taking something so precious from you just sends you into a blind rage of jealousy. Losing Larissa would kill you. And to Marilyn? No way in hell would you allow that to happen. Larissa deserves the world and Marilyn isn’t that.

“Darling?” Her voice guides you out of your own irrational thoughts with a practiced ease. “You remember me then?” You muttered taking in her stunning appearance once again that night. Suddenly what you need dawns on you. Her. “Sweetheart? You know I’m yours right? I was simply being friendly darling.” Friendly. “Marilyn sure looked like she wanted to be friendly with you when her hands were all over you.” The words hit Larissa like a wave of realisation. “I- my darling I only want you. Let me prove it to you?” Her whispered words echoed around your mind for a few seconds. Well what an offer that was. How could you refuse?

“Come be a good kitten and prove it then. Kneel and crawl to me” you demanded loving how her eyes darkened ever so slightly at the demand although her cheeks blushed a beautiful crimson colour. Seeing the principal bend to your will, on all fours crawling towards you with embarrassment clouding her features just set you off and when she held eye contact with you you couldn’t help but immediately free the faux cock you’d been packing all night. “Show daddy this is the only dick you need darling. Show me how much you want me.”

On instinct Larissa immediately took the head of your strap between her ruby lips, tongue swirling around the head with a practiced ease. Your hands immediately falling to her perfect up do. Pulling strands of hair as you forced yourself further down her throat until she released little gags of protests. “Dirty girl, you’re so good at this. Sweet little mouth just made to take me hmm” you mewled as the base of the strap rubbed against your clit with just the right amount of pressure. “Just imagine what Marilyn would think about seeing you on your knees for me like a common whore? The way you cry so prettily for daddy as I use your sweet mouth? Such a slut for me aren’t you baby?” To her credit, she tried to reassure that she is yours but it’s rather hard to do with your brutal thrusts and a mouthful of dick.

The moment you pulled out, Larissa greedily sucked in breaths of air. A slither of spit being the only connection between her and your cock. Doe eyes, on her knees, lipstick smeared and hair an absolute state, Larissa couldn’t look more beautiful if she tried. “Get on the bed and be ready for me slut” you practically grunted to the principal. Something about Larissa lying there completely bare was stunning. It didn’t take you long to bunch her dress up to her hips and rip the lace off her body finally exposing her soaked core to you. “Daddy” she whined feeling the intensity of your gaze. A simple plea that would’ve normally been enough to have you worshiping her like your own personal goddess. “Please what? Shall I go get Marilyn for you? Or shall i remind you that only I get to taste this pretty pussy.”

The moment you finally allow yourself to taste her is heavenly. Her little gasp of need and the way she practically melts on your tongue is divine. It doesn’t take you long to work her to the edge. Larissa loves to suck you off. It’s embarrassing and slightly humiliating to think of herself in such a position but god does she love it. The weight of you on her tongue, the way you lose control and thrust deeper and the way you eat her out after like a starved animal never fails. “Please daddy” she whimpers out causing you to scrape your teeth across her adorably swollen clit before pulling away from her cunt.

Her whimpers of disappointment as she takes in the sight of your lower face drenched in her slick only adds to her growing need. “Darling I-“ you cut off her pathetically needy words by taking a swipe of her slit with your index finger, “open slut” is all you offer before thrusting your finger into her awaiting mouth. The happy mewl she lets loose as her tongue swirls around your finger, tasting herself on you. “Please” Larissa sobs as you pull your finger back, “I just want you to fuck me daddy. Please! I’m yours. Only yours just please, please fuck me.”

“Nothing more than a desperate whore aren’t you? Imagine what everyone would say if they knew you begged for my cock like a bitch in heat? The all put together Larissa Weems is nothing but a desperate slut for me. No one else can fuck you the way I can. No one knows that you love to be ass up, face down as I pound your cunt” you teased happily manhandling the woman to be in the exact position you know she craves. “Fucking leaking all over the sheets. Good thing we both know that only I can give you what you need. Your mine aren’t you?” You let the head of the faux dick rub along her slit occasionally bumping her clit. The moment your hand roughly connects with the soft globe of her ass she immediately moans. “Filthy girl, tell me whose you are” you grunted fighting the urge to bury yourself in her awaiting core.

“Daddy’s! Yours just please fuck-“ she whimpered feeling the burn and stretch in some areas as you sunk into her pussy effortlessly. "You would look so good with my children baby” you grunted settling into a lethal pace, your fingers were gripping her hips so tightly there was a hundred percent guarantee of bruises remaining for days. Not that either of you minded. “Want daddy to finally breed her girl? Show everyone you’re mine by carrying my baby? Hmm? I’d fill you up so good darling every night until you finally grow round with our baby like a good little breeding bitch.”

The brutal sounds of skin slapping into one another accompanied by the most sinful sounds clawing their way from her throat was the only encouragement you needed. “Bet my dirty girl would love that. God baby you feel so good around me. This pretty pussy is just made to take me. God you take me so well” you granted with the force of your thrusts bringing a hand to her hair to pull her back to your chest. “Daddy oh fuck” she mewled, the change of position caused your dick to reach deeper than before, “please” she whined feeling the coil in her stomach tightening once more.

“Cum for me baby, show me how good only I can make you feel” you plead with her while letting her hair go and moving your hand to find her sensitive bundle of nerves to give her that last push over the edge. The way she cums for you, the noises she makes as you watch her ride each and every wave you provide is enough to send you hurtling over the edge as well. Slowing your thrusts down to drag out every inch of pleasure for you both as the woman underneath you is clearly spent. Her voice is hoarse from all the noise she made as she took everything you offered on a plate. With an ease only she could provide. Only Larissa could do this for you. To calm your irrational jealousy in the best ways. “mm stay” you heard her mumble into the pillows as her hand reached back for you. And you knew she craved the connection as much as you do. “I’m yours. I’m here baby” you whisper pressing sweet kisses onto her sweat covered neck.

Only when she was ready did you get the wet rag to clean her glistening folds gently murmuring praises to the overly sensitive woman. The switch from insanely jealous to caring and loving was instant for you. This woman was yours. But you also care for everything that’s yours so deeply that Larissa would get only the best aftercare from you. Your now quiet, stated mind allowing you to devote your full attention to the principal. You would die for this woman and she would die for you too. “Baby? what can I do for you?” Your whispered words caused her to smile slightly allowing you to adjust her to be lying comfortably on the bed. “Come here sweetheart, I just want to feel you” she murmured opening her arms for you to settle on her bare chest, her heart beating for you only being all could hear. Together as one the whole night seemed to blur together as you both drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

Word count~ 2372

[runawaymaven]

Hiii, sorry for my extremely horrible English, I literally used Google translate, but I wanted to make a request for Paul where he imprint on a Cullen, she wouldn’t be a vampire, but a witch. A girl that Carlisle and Esme or Rosalie and Emmett adopted, and she has a personality similar to Rosalie’s, but nicer and kinder like Alice. She would be magical and would become immortal at 18, like every witch. She decided to stay in Forks after having a premonition about Bella’s condition after the Cullens left. Anyway, she would meet Paul, and it would be a “grumpy x sunshine” dynamic, with her defending Bella from his attack, and him conflicted because she is his imprint, but still a Cullen. She’s provocative, with a sharp tongue that attracts him, but still a Cullen. And the pack is having fun with the whole situation.

A/n: Hi! I tried to write this the best I could, so I hope you like it !

Fate's sharp edge - paul x reader

The clouds hang low over Forks, heavy and gray, threatening rain as always. There’s a tension in the air, thick and unyielding. Bella’s presence in La Push is unexpected, especially with the pack on edge. The peace between the wolves and the Cullens is fragile, now teetering dangerously on the edge.

You arrive at the clearing just in time to see Paul storming toward Bella, his body a blur of frustration. His muscles are tense, eyes flashing as he takes in the sight of her standing in front of Jacob, the scent of vampires still clinging to her.

“What the hell are you doing here, Swan?” he growls, his voice full of danger. “This is our land. You stay away, go back to your filthy blood suckers. Oh, wait...” He trailed off with a smirk, the pack laughing in the background.

Before Bella can answer, you step forward, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

“She’s here under my protection.”

Paul’s head snaps toward you, his entire body freezing as his eyes lock onto yours. His reaction is immediate, the air around him changing, thickening. There’s something in the way he looks at you—something primal, something new.

“And who the hell are you to protect her?” he spits, though his voice lacks the usual venom.

You smirk, amused by his sudden change in demeanor. His frustration, his anger, it only fuels the fire in your chest. You’ve seen wolves like Paul before—gruff, hotheaded, ready to fight. But none of that bothers you. In fact, it excites you.

“I’m Y/n,” you say, your voice steady, yet challenging. “Adopted by the Cullens, but I’m not a vampire. I’m a witch.”

The moment the word leaves your mouth, something changes in him. His breath catches, his muscles stiffen, and for a second, it’s as if the world has stopped spinning.

Imprint.

You don’t realize what’s happening, but Paul does. The pull between you is magnetic, undeniable, overwhelming. His heart races, his body drawn to yours in a way he can’t comprehend. But the conflict in his chest is immediate. You’re a Cullen—or at least part of their family—and everything in him screams that this shouldn’t be happening.

Paul grits his teeth, his fists clenching. “You’re a Cullen,” he says, as if that one fact alone should tear you apart.

You tilt your head slightly, eyes gleaming with challenge. “Does that bother you?” you ask, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “That I can protect Bella better than a pack of oversized dogs?”

Behind him, you hear the snickering of his packmates. Embry, Quil, and Jared all watching with amusement, finding the situation far too entertaining.

“Oh, this is priceless,” Quil says with a laugh. “He imprinted on a Cullen.”

The air is thick with their laughter, but you stay focused on Paul. You notice the way his jaw tightens, his eyes darkening as he fights against something internal. You’re pulling at him, though you don’t understand why.

“What’s the matter, wolf?” you tease, your voice dripping with amusement. “Cat got your tongue?”

His temper flares—though not as much as you expect. His frustration simmers beneath the surface, restrained, struggling against something else. Instead of blowing up like you thought he would, he takes a step closer to you, his gaze locked on yours.

“You’re part of their family,” he says, though his voice falters slightly, like he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

You shrug, maintaining the playful edge in your tone. “And you’re part of a pack that wants to keep Forks safe, right? We’re on the same side.”

His fists tighten again, but his eyes remain on you, drawn in by the warmth you radiate, the magic that hums around you. Imprint, the word echoes in his mind. He doesn’t want it to be true, but every instinct in him screams that you are his now.

You glance back at Bella, your focus shifting slightly. “Bella’s in danger,” you say softly, your voice more serious now. “I saw it coming.”

Paul blinks, his frustration giving way to confusion. “Saw what?” he asks.

You look back at him, your gaze steady. “I have visions. Premonitions,” you explain, though you know it’s a lot for him to take in. “Bella’s going to need protection, and I’m not leaving her.”

Paul’s chest tightens. Your confidence, your fiery spirit—it’s everything that should drive him crazy, but instead, it draws him in deeper. He can’t decide if he wants to argue with you or protect you, and that conflict gnaws at him from the inside out.

“And you think you can handle what’s coming?” he challenges, though his voice lacks its usual bite.

You smile, taking a step closer to him. “I know I can,” you reply confidently.

The pack’s laughter hums in the background, but Paul’s focus is entirely on you. The fire in your eyes, the strength in your voice—it’s intoxicating. Everything about you draws him in, and despite the fact that you’re tied to the Cullens, you’re his now.

And that’s going to make things very, very complicated.

[iww-gnv]

Writers employed by “Sesame Street” producer Sesame Workshop have voted unanimously to support a strike authorization vote from the Writers Guild of America as the April 19 expiration of the current contract approaches. The 35 writers represented by the union have been in negotiations with the production company behind “Sesame Street” and other children’s programs since February. If the sides can’t reach a deal by April 19, picketing will begin outside Sesame Workshop’s Manhattan headquarters on April 24, the WGA said Tuesday. “We are committed to working with Sesame Workshop to codify a fair contract for writers that embodies these values, and which allows the Workshop to continue to attract top-level talent who can artfully create stories that successfully balance entertainment, playfulness, and joy with education and enrichment,” the union’s Sesame Workshop negotiating committee said in a statement. “Our demands would be extremely meaningful for the affected writers, particularly those in animation who are currently being excluded from basic union benefits and protections like pension and healthcare. We hope for a speedy and amicable resolution to these negotiations so that we can continue to do the work of helping the next generation grow smarter, stronger and kinder.” “Our writers are integral members of our creative team, and we are engaged in good faith negotiations with the WGA. We’re still hopeful that we’ll come to an agreement in advance of the expiration,” the company said in a statement. Sesame Workshop is a nonprofit organization, which means it’s in an unusual position of facing a strike threat. WGA East president Lisa Takeuchi Cullen acknowledged the awkwardness of the situation. “No one wants to see a picket line on Sesame Street,” said Takeuchi Cullen. “Millions of parents and families around the world are going to have a lot of questions. They might ask why the bosses at Sesame Workshop are ignoring their company’s own messages of kindness and fairness.”