#why did i have to latch onto those two for some reason
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shroommush · 9 months ago
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PARADOXCICLE CHAPTER 22 SPOILERS UNDER CUT !!
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An extra Robert and mr cycle drawing for the soul 🙏
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Genuinely a bit obsessed with these two, please does anyone else understand 😭 i need them to sit in a grassy field together and vent each others traumas, i think theyd benefit from that.
Btw, (paradoxcicle by @blipple-is-confused) the author of the fic always reblogs my art and says nice things about it and im always too awkward to reblog and thank them, so ill just say now, thank you :] your fic is awsome! i know how cool the feeling is whenever people draw fanart of your story, so i will NEVER stop drawing fanart as long as this fic keeps going, because it DESERVES THE HYPE!!!
Side note mr cycle and robert deserve the world.
thank you for coming to my ted talk
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hallelujahmeatgod · 2 months ago
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How to Ruin a Report in 10 Folds
What happens when you leave a report unattended in Sylus' place with Luke and Kieran lurking around?
: Sylus, Luke, Kieran, Fem Reader
word count: 932
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“OW OW OWWW!”
“We’re sorry—OWWWWW!”
Their shrieking echoed down the grand halls of Sylus’ home like a chorus of chaos.
Meanwhile, in the calm of his spacious office, Sylus was flipping through documents with practiced indifference—until the doors burst open with a bang.
There stood MC, looking positively furious as she dragged Luke and Kieran in by their ears like misbehaving toddlers. With a huff, she shoved them inside. As soon as she let go, they clutched their ears dramatically like wounded puppies.
“Boss-man!” Luke fake-wept, sprinting toward Sylus. Kieran was right behind him, mirroring the act. They latched onto his arms as if trying to shield themselves with his body.
Sylus blinked, clearly unbothered but utterly lost.
“And what exactly is going on this lovely day?” he asked sarcastically, letting them dangle off him like living accessories.
MC crossed her arms and glared daggers at the twins, who instantly flinched and retreated further behind Sylus' arms.
“Why don’t you ask these mischievous children?”
“We’re not children!” Kieran declared bravely.
“Funny for someone hiding behind Sy,” MC shot back.
And just like that, the banter exploded—snappy comebacks flying back and forth like tennis balls while Sylus sat calmly between them, a helpless spectator to the chaos.
Eventually, he sighed, cleared his throat, and stood up.
“Are any of you going to explain what this is about, or will I just be stuck refereeing this three-way squabble?” he asked dryly. “I do have better things to do, entertaining as this is.” He took a step toward the door.
“NOOOOOOO!” Luke and Kieran wailed in unison, practically clinging for dear life—Luke hugging Sylus from the front, Kieran from the back.
Had this not been a real issue, MC might’ve doubled over laughing at the sight.
Sylus, clearly over it, rolled his eyes and turned to MC, giving her a look that said, please, for the love of everything, explain.
MC took a breath. “It’s really nothing much,” she said, tone heavy with sarcasm. “These two simply decided that it would be hilarious to do some origami today.”
Sylus squinted. “...Okay? So?”
“Exactly! So?” Luke echoed from his spot against Sylus' chest.
MC’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, don’t test me. I might’ve even helped you with your little paper cranes—had you not used my entire damn report!”
The twins flinched in unison. So did Sylus, ever so slightly.
“Your report?” he asked.
“Mhhm”
“The one you stayed up all night working on?”
“Yes, Sylus. You are correct. The report I stayed up all night working on,” she replied with a tight, painfully polite smile.
Sylus exhaled slowly and began to pry the twins off of him. Now that he grasped the full scope, he couldn’t just let it slide.
What the twins didn’t know was that Sylus had nearly cried trying to get MC to take a break from that damn report the night before. The leader of Onychinus—begging? Practically. But MC clung to her keyboard like it was a lifeline. She wouldn’t let it go.
And now… now the report was a fleet of origami birds.
In no time, Luke and Kieran were lined up before Sylus and MC like scolded children. Sylus rested a calming hand on MC’s back and fixed the boys with a stern look.
“Of all the papers in this house,” he said, “why hers? Look at me.”
They lifted their heads, hesitant.
“Nothing to say?”
Luke glanced at Kieran before muttering, “It’s just…”
“…Her paper was the best one for origami,” Kieran finished quietly.
There was a long pause. Sylus and MC looked at each other, both trying very hard not to laugh.
MC wasn’t truly angry—just tired and mildly unhinged from staying up all night printing those reports only for them to be turned into swans or stars or whatever. But their reasoning?
She could barely keep a straight face.
Then Luke mumbled something under his breath.
“Hm? Didn’t catch that,” Sylus said.
Luke sighed, defeated. “The other paper was too flimsy.”
MC stared at them. Her frustration was practically gone by now.
“How am I supposed to stay mad at you two?” she asked, exhaling with a soft smile. “I’m still a little upset, sure—because I really worked hard on those reports. But thanks to your dad here, I’ve learned to embrace the whole ‘what’s done is done’ mindset.”
She softened. “Just… be careful next time, okay?”
The twins nodded and muttered apologies.
Once the dust settled and Sylus gave them a few parting warnings, the boys retreated to wherever they went to pretend they were sorry.
Later that evening, Sylus walked into his room to find MC lounging calmly—completely opposite of her earlier rage.
“You had backups, didn’t you?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
MC smirked. “Obviously. I basically live with you three. I’d be a fool not to.”
Sylus chuckled. “You’re terrifying.”
MC raised a brow. “Is that a complaint?”
He looked at her for a moment, then smirked. “Not even a little.”
That night, MC returned to Sylus’ office and found a neat folder on his desk. On top of it sat a lone paper crane and a folded note with her name on it.
Inside the folder was a freshly printed version of her report, along with a clumsily handwritten message:
"We’re sorry. Please don’t set us on fire. Love, Luke and Kieran <3"
In the corner of the last page, someone had scribbled:
"P.S. We made you a new swan. It doesn’t bite."
MC rolled her eyes and took the new crane, looking at it fondly. “…Idiots,” she muttered with a smile.
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avionvadion · 6 months ago
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This Trey discourse is getting ridiculous.
Tell me you don’t understand the dream without telling you don’t understand the dream. Tell me you don’t like Trey or understand his character without telling me you don’t like Trey or understand his character. For starters, the reason most of the fandom disliked Trey early on- book one. He didn’t stand up to Riddle’s mother or stop Riddle from being a tyrant.
Argument one: he was a child. A ten year old child whose parents were being screamed at for five hours straight (something of which BOTH Idia and Leona are horrified by, and those two had some strict upbringings themselves) while listening to eight year old Riddle wailing and sobbing for his mother to stop. That shit is traumatizing. Have you ever been screamed at unjustly as a kid? It’s terrifying. It haunts you. That kind of memory latches on and never lets go. Not without help.
Argument two: Trey is 18. He is a big brother. Not a parent. He didn’t raise his little siblings either, as his parents have a seemingly good relationship with each other and their children. He hasn’t seen Riddle in years, and while excited to see Riddle at the entrance ceremony he was quickly rebuffed by the now cold and steely Riddle who grew up under his abusive mother’s rule. He and Cater then worked with Riddle to dethrone their horrible then-dorm leader, and Trey was then sacrificed to the position of vice dorm leader because the entire dorm took a vote. Still, he did his best as vice dorm leader- not wanting to lose his head or watch their dorm mates stumble accidentally onto the execution block.
Trey, at the start, wasn’t particularly close to Riddle because Riddle wouldn’t let him be, and as someone who was traumatized by what happened when he WAS A CHILD likely struggled to speak up against Riddle’s harsher rules, and that most likely muddled together with Trey’s wish for Riddle to be happy. Going against Riddle would lead to conflict, and Riddle is short tempered as is. Trey likely believed that standing up to Riddle would make things worse instead of better.
He learns quickly from Adeuce later in book one how wrong he was, but that’s beside the point. The best Trey could do in the position HE DID NOT WANT was to give advice to his dorm mates and attempt to be Riddle’s voice of reason, acting as the peacemaker and struggling to keep any situation from escalating.
Something of note here, that I find particularly fascinating, is that it’s been stated by several characters that Riddle’s reign, though tyrannical, was nowhere near as bad as the last dorm leader- who was chaos incarnate. That plays a part in why Trey and Cater both were so willing to go along with Riddle’s iron ruling, even though both knew he was going about being dorm leader the wrong way.
There was no controlling or manipulating of Riddle- despite what Leona and Idia, who have ZERO CONNECTION AND INTERACTION with Trey and Cater prior to this dream, believed. There was no stopping Riddle, either. The best they could do was appease him and keep him calm.
Now, onto his dream.
We learn that Trey and his family “laugh” about what happened with Mrs. Rosebitch. This isn’t an, “oh they weren’t affected by what happened” situation, it’s an, “oh they were so badly affected by what happened that they can’t even talk about it properly because it’s so fucked up that they just laugh instead”. That’s called a trauma response. That trauma is so deeply rooted in Trey because he’s never learned to process it, that it’s there in his dream instead of being omitted.
Trey is also dreaming of a world in which Riddle has no stressful responsibilities. They’re at school, but his mother can’t reach him there, and Chen’ya- a childhood friend of Trey’s who was THERE when the Clover family got screamed at by Mrs. Rosebitch- is dorm leader instead. Riddle is not held down by what happened, and is seemingly “freed” from his mother’s cruel hand. Heartslabyul has become a safe space.
One built by Trey and Chen’ya, something they had unknowingly tried to do as children for Riddle (as they were unaware of the abuse, but had been a shining light for sweet baby Riddle who lived in the suffocating darkness) but failed- and paid severely for it.
Now, onto Fandom problem number two: the Round Bois.
I’m seeing people call Trey a “feeder” and are behaving harshly towards him because of it. But that literally couldn’t be farther from what’s happening. For example, let us take a look at his conversation with Vil (I brought my freaking receipts; this boy is my FAV of Heartslabyul) during Vil’s lab coat vignette.
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We know Trey likes to bake.
He bakes for the Heartslabyul parties, and often gives Adeuce pastries to bring to Ramshackle to share with Yuu. But we learn in his New Years vignette that he bakes as a form of stress relief, too, to work his thoughts out and/or distract himself. It is a comfort to him. A safe space. And he knows whatever makes he will likely bring a smile to someone’s face. He enjoys baking, and he enjoys seeing people enjoy his sweets.
If someone is stressed, he encourages them to eat sweets- or cake with lots fruits, though that’s specific in this vignette because he just made a strawberry cake and was trying to find someone to give it to because it was one cake too many, lol, and Vil happened to be stressed out from something Rook said.
Trey isn’t being a “feeder” here or in his dream. He saw someone stressed and went, “Hey, I have a solution, why not try it? One slice won’t hurt and it’ll make you feel better/put you in a better mood.”
Baking is Trey’s solution, and a reliable source of comfort. He likes seeing how happy people are from the things he bakes, and he knows eating sweets can make other people happy. That’s why he goes out of his way to find someone to give the extra cake he accidentally made to- because it’ll put that person in a good mood and the cake will have a “good home” to go to.
Trey’s dream was basically giving Riddle and their other dorm mates a life where they could be happy and enjoy themselves without fear. A safe space. He could bake to his heart’s content in this massive kitchen his dream Heartslabyul provided, and everyone around him are happy and overall stress-free.
The reason they’re all ROUND BOIS???
It’s not because Trey was a “feeder” and fed them to that point, it’s because the dream-versions of his friends lacked self control and there was no one to stop them from eating sweet after sweet after sweet. They just happily ate whatever it was Trey baked, because he baked a lot- not to “feed” them, but because baking is something he greatly enjoys doing.
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innocent-artery · 2 years ago
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Trial and Error
1.6k words
Summary: Your new boyfriend Eddie finds out that you've been faking orgasms. He makes it his mission to make sure you don't have to.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader
For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. This story includes sexually explicit material, reader discretion advised.
While reading, I recommend listening to the altar is my hips, a spotify playlist by me!
~
One hour.
It had been the most blissful hour of your life, but it increasingly became more frustrating as it went on.
Eddie hovered over you, pile driving his cock into you with force that had prompted him to place an extra pillow behind your head when it had knocked against the headboard a while earlier. One of his arms propped him up onto his elbow, the other toying with one of your nipples. His pubic bone was brushing your clit with each push of his hips, and his mouth was latched onto your other nipple dutifully.
So why couldn't you orgasm?
In theory, Eddie was doing everything right. It wasn't like you were uncomfortable with him, and you did feel good, it just wasn't building like it was supposed to, you couldn't get that push to tip over the edge. You'd managed to get yourself there on your own, but Eddie, skillful as he was, wasn't you. He couldn't feel exactly what you felt, he relied on reaction. You'd tried giving him directions, from which he learned well, but when they fell just short of getting you to orgasm, you stopped trying to adjust, not wanting to feel nit-picky or difficult.
And so eventually you'd fallen into a habit of pretending to orgasm. It was easy at first, when you were still testing the waters. When he'd fingered you and you couldn't orgasm, you faked it, brushing it off thinking that you just needed his mouth. A few weeks later, when he added his mouth, you brushed it off again, resigning to believe that only his dick would do the job.
And here you were, with his dick inside you for the first time, and you were back where you'd found yourself all those times before. Still hitting that brick wall you couldn’t get over.
You knew deep down that you should just tell Eddie. He'd made it abundantly clear that he wanted to make you feel good. But after time you'd simply given up on it. You still felt good, you thought, and that was good enough.
The thought seemed overwhelmingly clear now, and for some reason that escaped you, it pricked at your waterline.
Glancing over at the clock, you entertained the act again. You took a fistful of his hair, arched your back with a loud, gasping "Fuck, Eddie" and deliberately clenched your pussy around him. You felt his hips stutter, then still as he pulled out. You watched as he fisted his cock a few times, spilling his cum over your stomach. The muscles tensed with the foreign sensation.
You opened your eyes, watching Eddie hovering over you, panting, and you felt your pussy throb. That was only more frustrating.
A moment of silence fell over the two of you, the hot smell of sex thick in the air. You assume Eddie believes you came, until you note the slightly perplexed expression on his face, staring at your collarbone as he was lost in thought, rolling something around in his head. He seems to have concluded the thought with a sigh out his nose, leaning up to kiss you sweetly.
"Feeling good?" He muttered, grinning into your mouth.
"Mhm," you sighed between kisses. "Hardest I've ever come." This was, in fact, total bullshit.
At that, Eddie stopped, pulled away to see your face. "Really?"
You nodded. He shrugged. "That's strange, because I didn't feel it at all."
You froze.
He popped his lips, giving you a sympathetic smile. "I wasn't sure at first, thinking you just didn't have much of a physical reaction when you came. Was still unsure just asking now, but your reaction gives it away."
The wind seemed to be knocked out of you, opting to watch your hand play with his hair than look him in the eye.
"I'm not mad, sweetness, I just don't understand. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know." Your voice was small. "I think...I think I just didn't want to be a bother. I tried telling you stuff to make it better but it still wasn't working- not that you're doing anything wrong!" you added quickly when he blinked at you. "So I just stopped."
"Honey, you know I'm glad to go to whatever lengths are needed to make you orgasm, and if you don't I'm not doing my job." He was earnest in his words, and it made your heart both swell with love and sink with guilt.
"I know. I just feel bad when you've been eating me out for half an hour and I'm no closer to an orgasm than I was twenty minutes ago."
Eddie sighed, pecking your cheek and sitting up on his calves. "I'm not sure you're hearing me, bubs. I genuinely do not care, in the nicest way possible. You need hours? I've got all the time in the world. You need a specific technique? Show me what to do. I don't care if getting you to orgasm takes a little more work, I'd rather take the time to learn than have you pretend for my sake."
Tears pricked at your eyes again, but this time with love. You sat up and pulled his face towards yours, kissing him with as much adoration and gratitude as you could muster.
"Sweetness?"
"Yeah?"
"Have you been able to make yourself cum?"
You mumbled an 'mhm', in between kisses.
"I have an idea." He pulled away, eyes now sparked with determination. "I want you to get in whatever position you normally do when you touch yourself."
When he pulled back, you were still for a moment. It took his raising of an eyebrow and gentle gesture to snap you out of it, shifting your weight and the pillows until you lay comfortably on your back.
"Good." Eddie adjusted himself so that he was propped up on his elbows, face level with your pussy. "Now, show me how it's done."
Your jaw nearly fell open. "Eddie..."
Eddie tilted his head, searching for signs of hesitancy on your face. After a moment of stunned silence you began to move, both hands reaching for your tits. Groping, massaging, pinching, caressing. Slowly, so slowly, pulling soft hitches of breath followed by sighs each time. You felt your eyelids flutter closed, partly from the sensation you were losing yourself in, partly from slight embarrassment.
Your left hand traveled up to your neck, soft caresses over your jaw and pulse point before finding the pressure points that had your brain turning fuzzy and a low, breathy noise rumbling in your throat. The right hand found the flesh of your thigh, groping it softly before alternating with your ass.
Eddie chuckled softly. "Didn't know you grabbed your own ass, pretty."
You felt your cheeks warm. "I usually just imagine you doing whatever I'm doing, so..."
"Do you?" Even with your eyes closed you could see the ego-inflated grin pulling his lips back. "Good, that's good. Show me what you picture me doing."
You continued like that for a moment, just feeling around your body. Your middle finger traced the junction between your thigh and your cunt, making your body tense with excitement.
When your eyes had had the courage to open again, they met a lovely sight. Eddie was crouched dutifully down in front of you, hungry and lust-blown eyes noting every slight movement of your hand, gaze flicking from one had to the other, to your face, to your pussy on display in front of him.
Nearly shaking in anticipation, you reached down gingerly to graze a fingertip against the spot right above your clit, which had your hips following your hand when it left.
A soft breath was pulled from you at the action, but it turned into a choked gasp when your finger finally pressed down towards where slick had gathered. You opted to sift it around, collecting it on your fingertips before sliding them up to your clit, a firm, slow swipe making you let out a weak sound.
Once you found a rhythm, you opened your eyes. Eddie was staring intently at your motions, trying to burn every little motion into his brain, wanting to memorize the exact shape you drew into your body. His eyes flicked up to your face every so often, but when they caught on that you were staring, they lingered. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to the insides of your thighs, hands caressing the backs of your thighs, a motion intended to be soothing but instead sent shivers into your skin in its wake.
"Eddie..." you sighed, motions increasing in intensity. Through your growing desperation you managed to stay slow, keeping yourself on edge.
The boy in question groaned into your skin. The idea that he'd asked you to show him exactly what you did when you were alone and that this was what you thought to do. Say his name. That was what came naturally, that was what fueled your desire. Him.
It didn't go unnoticed that your soft moans were getting louder, airier, higher pitched. Eddie reached his hands under you to grip your ass, caressing and squeezing the flesh.
"Good, good." Eddie murmured.
"Fuck, say that again," you gasped.
"What? That you're doing so good? So good for me, yeah? Look fuckin' perfect, 'n I can smell you from here. Christ baby, sound like a damn song, sound so pretty."
Your fervent motions plus Eddie's soft touches and sex-incarnate voice all tipped you over that sticky sweet edge. This orgasm didn't barrel into you, rather, it washed over you, warmth coursing over you from your core outwards. It felt like euphoria.
When you came down and opened your eyes, Eddie was staring at you with a stupid but awestruck look.
"Well, there's no going back, 'cause I can definitely tell the difference now."
~
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calypsocolada · 1 year ago
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RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME | g. tomioka
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(this is part two! click here for part one)
synopsis: you left without saying goodbye, giyu needs to know why... author's note: hellllooooo. the reaction to part one of this story was incredible. i cannot thank any of you enough for your kind words seriously. this one is for all of you <3 (psst... to all the swifites, if you can point out two other song references besides rwylm you get a gold star) cw: ANGST (lol like there wasn't enough in the first part), blood, gore, spoilers about rengoku, HAPPY ENDING, not proofread wc: 4.2k
click here for my masterlist
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There was nothing more frustrating than lack of communication. As much as he wished he could read your mind, as much as he begged and pleaded to deaf ears you were just one hard shell to fully crack open. Though Giyu supposed he was probably the same. But at least he was making an effort. He thought you’d make one too. 
But as Giyu sat cross legged at a Hashira meeting he could meet all their eyes but yours. You didn’t spare him a glance like you spared him your time those few weeks ago. Almost a month and a half now and for some reason Giyu couldn’t stop counting the days, the hours and minutes. 
45 days since you knocked at his door. 
1,080 hours since you grabbed him, your cheeks wet as you pressed your lips to his. 
64,800 minutes since Giyu woke up in the morning to an empty bed. 
It never got easier. Each day was like this stabbing pain in his chest. A persistent feeling of desertion. He’d thought things had changed since that night. The night you cried and cried and kissed and kissed. 
He wrote you letter after letter but no response. Now here you were in the same room, in a room filled with others but Giyu only felt your presence. Like a heightened sense that haunted him so stunningly that he wondered if your lack of attention would actually kill him. As if he overdosed on it once and now he’d never be able to wean himself off you.  
You were so close, only maybe three feet from him but you felt worlds away. Could he have done something wrong? Showed too many of his cards too soon? Scared you off? Sure you reciprocated his kisses, in fact you were the initiator. But when it came to a verbal confession there was nothing for Giyu to latch onto. No words, just your actions. But your actions betrayed you. You treated him as if that night never even happened. For 45 days. It was like torture. To want something so badly, to have it for a fleeting moment then lose it. Giyu was losing it.  
“Mr. Tomioka?” Your voice was like a shot of ice through his veins. Giyu blinked the fogginess from his brain and cleared his throat. Your attention was on him. The room is empty. Giyu hadn’t noticed the meeting had ended. Didn’t notice everyone leaving. 
“Hmm?” He forced out, his eyes sliding to yours. Mr. Tomioka? Even before everything you called him Giyu. But now… you addressed him as though he was some stranger. A room alone, a room with you. He could say what was on his mind finally. 
“Did you pay attention in the meeting?” You asked. Giyu stared at you. You were looking at him. After 45 days of starving for your attention he found himself unable to act normally with it on him now. 
“Hmm…? Oh! Uh— yes…” Giyu stuttered out, feeling hopelessly useless. Feeling utterly ridiculous. 
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said coldly, turning to leave. 
“Wait-“ Giyu stepped forwards. Tomorrow? What was tomorrow? A talk? An explanation for your icy treatment? You turned, threw him a look over your shoulder. It was like you read his confusion. As if you knew he paid zero attention in the meeting. 
“The training grounds near your house. We’ll meet at sunrise.” You said and then your eyes lingered a second before you turned and left. Giyu found himself stuck still even a couple minutes after you left. Like his legs had forgotten their purpose. In fact, those 45 days he’d been right where you left him. A hopeless, nearly broken man. Stuck back in the time he had you. Haunting his house and his training grounds and everywhere he stood. You seemed to have moved on, seemed to maybe have even forgotten about the fleeting moment. Was that all it was to you? A fleeting moment? Maybe even a severe lapse of judgment? Something like that couldn’t have been a declaration of love. Giyu could and had been thinking himself in circles. He wished he said more. Wished he said less. Ran through everything over and over. Replayed it so often the record was starting to skip.    
Giyu tossed and turned all night. He didn’t sleep even a wink. You wanted to talk. Maybe explain things. Giyu knew whatever it was that kept you so far from him he was willing to work through to find a solution. He was willing to crumble your walls. Or wait. If you’d just verbally ask him to wait he’d pause his life forever for you. He’d become a ghost. Time could come and go on for everybody else but he’d wait diligently for you. He’d wait like the moon and chase after you like the sun. If only you’d just give him a damn reason. 
Giyu turned, the moon shining through a crack in his curtains. His eyes drifted to the empty spaces beside him. The same space he’d left empty since you vacated it. With splayed fingers he touched the spot of his bed and willed himself to remember that night. As if he’d ever forget it in the first place. He was restless so he moved out of bed and to his desk. He pulled out a few letters. Some from Rengoku and some from Kagaya. Both with the same topic. Giyus favorite topic. You. 
Giyu carefully slid open the first letter he ever received from Rengoku. He felt a pang just merely looking at the older man’s handwriting. All jagged and loud. He smiled as he reread its contents. 
-
Good morning Mr. Tomioka!
I was shocked to see you had written to me but pleasantly surprised! I am doing well, how’re you? I heard you are well on your way to becoming the next water hashira! How exciting! I know we’ve only met a few times but you have the demeanor of a water hashira. You seem cool and collected! You have a calm voice and although it’s hard to hear you sometimes I still appreciated our talks! About your interest in my tsuguko; she is doing well. She is very fiery. I could see her becoming the next fire Hashira. She sort of reminds me of you in the way she speaks. Though sometimes I can get her to raise her voice and it’s quite adorable. It would be lovely if you visited her. I’m sure she’d love to see you again after you saved her life. But if you’re too busy that is fine, I can always just write you with updates about her. Maybe I can even try and get her to write you a letter sometime! Anyways, Mr. Tomioka, hope this letter finds you well! 
With regards, Kyojuro Rengoku
-
Giyu laughed at the ink splotch on the paper next to Rengoku’s name. It was a common theme in his letters. Probably wrote sort of hard. Giyu carefully closed the letter and opened the last letter Rengoku ever wrote. 
-
Good morning Mr. Tomioka! 
Congratulations on becoming the water Hashira! The other hashira’s seemed sort of bummed you weren’t able to make it to the little celebration but I knew that kind of thing just isn’t your style so I decided to write you this letter instead. I knew you had a fiery streak somewhere in you! We all do! I have a mission coming up and saw that you have one too! I would like for you to let my tsuguko accompany you on your mission! I think she could use a bit of quiet in her life. She’s always go go go! Just like me! But I think you two could get along very very well, Mr. Tomioka! I think she thinks of you fondly. I once asked her about the boy who saved her and I am pretty sure she blushed! Ha-ha! Don’t be disheartened by her cold attitude, as long as she doesn’t verbally attack you that means you might be in her good graces! She’s come a long way, I see sparks of softness in her that I hope you’ll appreciate. She loves miso soup and sweet potatoes, she gets it from me! She loves to read and can’t get enough of the ocean so be sure after your mission to take her swimming. It could be a date! You think I don’t know why you often write asking me about her, right? I’ll pretend I don’t! She’s not much of a talker like you but she listens and remembers everything you say. That mind’s like a steel trap! Please take care of her and I’ll tell her to play nice though I’m not sure she knows how to! Ha-ha! Only kidding. Be safe, Mr. Tomioka and good luck on your first mission as a Hashira! 
With regards, Kyojuro Rengoku
-
Giyu still blushes as he reads the letter. Rengoku knew Giyu’s intentions even though he was sure he was being discreet. He carefully folded the letter back up and as he did a hint of the rising sun peaked its way through his curtains. He sprung up from his seat. He couldn’t be late in meeting with you so he hurriedly got dressed and tumbled his way out of his home. He rounded the corner to the training field and stopped dead in his tracks. 
You were there. 
You were actually there. 
Your sword clutched tightly in your hand as you swung it to and fro, practicing against a ghostly opponent. Giyu watched you. He blinked for a moment and saw Rengoku, in the way you swung your sword, the way you moved, the way your haori flew behind you, like flames licking the air. Rengoku taught you everything you knew and you applied his fighting style with grace and ease. Giyu honestly had never seen you in a battle. And his breath halted as he watched the confidence in your demeanor. Watched the sure way you’d swing, the velocity and speed. The preciseness. You were definitely Rengoku’s tsuguko. In fact, maybe you were even more than that. Almost like his shadow, his predecessor. And you held that title with grace. Giyu almost felt choked up knowing damn well Rengoku was more than proud of you. 
“Just gonna stand there all day?” You asked, your swing coming through to slice clean through a practice dummy. One half falling to the dirt, kicking up dust. Giyu found himself unable to speak once again as you turned. That attention too much to bear. You hiked up your brow and pointed your sword in his direction. “Well, are you ready to spar?”
“Spar?” Giyu echoed as you nodded your head, walking like a predator towards him.
“Where’s your sword?”
“That’s why you’re here?”
“Why else would I be?” You asked, eyes daring him to mention things you clearly wanted to forget. Giyu blinked through the breaking of his heart. He’d never felt pain like this. Never knew someone could ignite such warmth then douse it in icy cold water. He never thought you of all people would stab him clean through. Giyu turned just as his emotions were too much to hide. He walked and grabbed his sword, waited a moment to try and gather his composure before returning back a few feet from you. 
There was something in your eyes. He knew this sight was probably the last thing every single demon that had crossed you had seen for themselves. Eyes like fire, you morphed in front of his eyes into the flames that danced with your techniques. 
You took the first swing, your movement like the flickering. Your strikes felt hot, as if his skin would sear completely off. Giyu controlled his feelings, he pushed them to the side and met your violence of fire with the calmness of water. Metal clanged, and although you’d killed him moments ago with your words you brought him straight back to life with the way you fought. You’d found yet another thing for him to fall in love with. 
Damn you. 
After several minutes passed and one final swing you both stepped back. It was clear it was a draw. Not a single time did someone pull ahead and leave the other in the dust. Each strike was met with an equal block. You two were an equal match. For a moment you two just stared at each other, dripping in sweat, the sun and heat finally rising. You reached up and wiped your forehead with the back of your arm and sighed.
“So it’s a draw.” You said and Giyu nodded his head. A silent moment passed before you pulled your eyes from his and walked to your stuff. Giyu watched. Watched you pack up your things and give a halfhearted wave to him as you walked back towards the road.
“That’s it?” Giyu called out suddenly. He swore he saw you flinch.
“Either Obanai or Shinazugawa will be here tomorrow for the same match.” You called over your shoulder. The cold shoulder you’d given him for so long. 46 days now. 
“That’s not what I meant.” Giyu took a step but you resumed walking. “What did I do?”
“Have a good day, Mr. Tomioka.” You said and the moment you were out of sight Giyu tore off after you. 
-
46 days ago you’d been laying next to Giyu Tomioka. You’d woke up early and in the morning light you could see his face again. He looked at peace as he slept beside you, his arms around you, his breathing light. You reached across the small expanse between you two and tucked his raven black hair out of his face. Giyu moved barely in his sleep and you yanked your hand away, shy as though he’d catch you admiring him. As though you hadn’t just spent the night together. Once he settled you gazed at him. Something, you knew what it was now, bloomed in your chest. Was this something you could truly have? To kill demons and go home to someone like him at the end of the day? Home… what would that even be like? What would that even look like for you? Slowly you sat up in his bed, covers falling from your shoulders, pooling at your torso. 
Everyone you had ever loved died horribly. You felt as though a curse was placed upon you. Penance for the deaths of your family.
Ever since Rengoku had died there was this thought that haunted you. A sort of prophecy you felt had cursed your very being. No matter how many times you thought about leaving Rengoku there was no way to ever go back and board that train with him. No way to deny his request and maybe even save his life. Would you have been useful or would you have been a hindrance? Would your presence have even changed a thing or were you just destined to love and lose? Your eyes flicked to Giyu, face barely illuminated by the sun rising. 
If you stayed in this bed would you watch him die as well? Just the thought made you physically sick to the stomach. You felt like a kid stuffed into a hiding place all over again. A helpless, useless kid.
If you let yourself love him and be with him, the pain of losing him might actually do you in for good. And if you left right now… would that save his life from the curse placed upon you? 
Turns out you're quite self sabotaging after all. And by morning you slipped out of his house, tearing back towards the inn, running with your tail between your legs.
-
“Do I not deserve an explanation?” Giyu called out to you, you'd almost made it to the end of his house. You paused, turning.
“Leave it.” You answered lethargically. 
“Did you even read my letters?”
“What letters?” You asked and when your eyes found his face the utter pain on it made your stomach drop. 
“I wrote to you… many times. Your crow should’ve delivered it to you.” Giyu explained, his face utterly disheartened. You glanced at your crow, who’d been curiously pecking at some bugs in the distance.
“I never received them.” You answered and clenched your jaw. You deserved to see him hurt. The pain you caused him was something you wouldn’t let yourself look away from this time. Giyu haori swayed slightly in the wind, he couldn’t meet your eyes. 
“Tell me what to do.” Giyu says and you blink at him, your brows furrowing. 
“What?”
“I’ll wait. I’ll let dust collect over my life until you wish to have me back.” 
“I don't want that.” You said with a start. You clench your jaw, forcing yourself back into some composure. “I want you… to… go on ahead.” Slowly Giyu raises his eyes to meet yours. 
“What do you mean?”
“I could never feel the same way you feel for me. So I want you to move on.” You said and kept your eyes glued to him as you said it. You didn’t let one smallest ounce of pain show on your face.
“Why?”
 “Because I’m not worth dying over.”
“I’m not worth dying over, Master!” You screamed, pain coursing through you. You watched Rengoku surpass his limits, a demon pushing him far past them. The same demon that had gotten the jump on you moments ago. The man couldn’t hear you. You stumbled forwards, blood dripping from a wound somewhere on your head, the blood getting in your eyes. You stumbled, losing your footing, your sword clattering against the stones out of your grip. “Rengoku, please! Run while you still can!” You screamed, coughing up blood as you crawled towards the fight. Your breathing labored, black ink splotched in your vision. Take me! You thought hopelessly, take me and not him! 
“Y/n? Come on, kid, wake up.” You blinked awake. Your entire body ached, drowsiness threatening to take hold of you. Where were you just now? You must’ve passed out from the pain. “Ah, there she is.” A blurry redness kneeled beside you as you blinked until you could see properly. “You’re awake.”
“Master?” You coughed as Rengoku smiled down at you. 
“Tough battle, huh? You did great out there kid.” Rengoku said proudly. “You mastered a few of those moves I taught you, it was incredible.” He recounts.
“I-- lost.”
“Hush now. That demon was even tough for me to kill. You did the best you could.” He says reaching for you, ruffling your hair.
“Y-you almost died,” You choked out, Rengoku’s hand paused on your head. “I-- Master I don’t ever want to be a burden to you.”
“You are no such thing.” Rengoku admonishes, giving your cheek a sharp and playfully pinch. You gasp in surprise, rubbing your cheek. “You think too dark sometimes, kid.”
“But-- Master… I’m not worth dying over.” You say, looking down. Rengoku grabs you by the chin.
“You don’t get to decide that. I do. And I decided that you’re worth saving.” He looks at you intensely to get his point across. You part your lips to argue but slowly close them. “Now enough of this, we won, let’s celebrate!”
“What do you mean?” Giyu walks closer to you, his voice has an edge to it. A worried and sharp edge. “Are you unsafe?”
“That’s not…” You trail off, unsure how to put your thoughts into words. “I’m giving you an out.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Mr. Tomioka-”
“Don’t. Please don’t call me that.” Giyu lamented, his expression pained. 
“You’d be wise to just move on.”
“I can’t. I won’t”
“You can, you should.” You growled. This reminded you so heavily of the night you stormed out of his house and you two fought in the road. You were pretty sure this was almost the exact same place. You gave an inch that night but you were trying desperately to take it back. No matter how much this hurt it would hurt even more if your curse killed him. You had to remind yourself of that. Of the thing that possessed your life. 
“Give me a reason.”
“My past should be reason enough for you.”
“What do you mean? Speak it plainly for me.”
“It’s obvious. I’m fucking cursed, Giyu!” You hadn’t expected it but ever since that night you cried you couldn’t stop. Every little thing made you cry now it was annoying. You cried when you left Giyu in the morning. Cried in your inn. Cried when you arrived back at your empty house, the taste of miso soup and potatoes wrecking your senses. Years and years of it being stored up and the dam broke. You felt like a little kid but there was no way around it. Maybe if you tried being truthful Giyu would leave. “I hid while my family died and because of it I’m cursed. I thought I could move on. Rengoku was like family to me. I let him in. I trusted him. I loved him. I let my guard down and my curse took him. And I-- I won’t let it take you okay so just do me this favor and let whatever you feel for me die.” You forced your eyes to his. Angrily wiped the tears from off  your face and looked at him intensely. “I am begging you.” Giyu looked at you, his eyes scanning your face. He walked and walked forwards until he was directly in front of you. His hands reached out, ever so gently sliding over either side of your jaw, his thumbs wiping the tears from your face. Deja vu gripped you so intensely. He’d done this same thing before. He leaned close, so close your breath hitched in anticipation of a kiss. But he stopped, mere centimeters away.
“You are not cursed.” He lets his words sink in. His eyes staring ardently into yours. Your breathing stopped, like you’d forgotten how. That dangerous beat of your heart started up again. There’s something to be said about someone that will tear themselves apart just to keep away from the one thing that could make them happy. You were the biggest component of that. It was like you craved hurting yourself. Craved punishment for crimes you never committed. Giyu pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You didn’t kill your parents and you have to stop blaming yourself for it.” His whispers as you pull back slightly, looking as though you’d been slapped. He knew it. Giyu knew you. You looked away but he forced your attention back to him. “They saved you because they loved you. You were a child. There’s no sin in that.” He presses another kiss to your face. You should back up. You needed to back up. You… you couldn’t. Giyu’s arms slide around you and you're pulled against his chest in a tight hug. “Rengoku didn’t die because he loved you, he died saving a world that had you in it.” There were the damn tears again. You closed your eyes as they sting you. “You don’t get to choose who loves you and it’s unfair to make decisions for them.” 
Rengoku’s words rang in your head.
You don’t get to decide that.
“I… I won’t make it if I lose you.” 
“Don’t say that. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you, look at me.” Giyu pulls back, you tilt your face up, eyes meeting his. “If you don’t want to lose me then fight for me, stop running, I’m begging you.” You looked up at him. There was no point in trying to build walls, not when Giyu always knew a way around them. You spent a long time in your own head. For once… you decided to let someone else make the calls. If even your most self destructive ways didn’t scare him off then it’s obvious that no matter what you did you couldn’t scare him off. 
“Alright.” You intoned softly. The utter hope on Giyu’s face was quick to show. “I’ll stop running.” 
“Promise me this time. Promise I won’t wake up and you're gone.”
“I’m sorry. You deserved better.” You breathed out, guilty.
“It’s okay. I forgive you.” He says fondly. You shake your head, eyes rolling.
“You forgive too easily.” Giyu kissed you then. No warning. Just pure want. It was the kiss of someone who’d been counting the seconds you’d been gone. Sickly sweet. Of course he’d forgive you quickly. When he pulled back he pressed his forehead to yours. “Give me your word. That you’ll give us a try.”
“I promise.” You say without hesitation. 
Giyu kissed you again, this time slowly, passionately. He tangled his hands in your hair and you melted. He was going to be the death of you. Though you supposed you shouldn’t think that way. You could settle on him being your near death experience then.
-
When the morning dawned and Giyu opened his eyes for a moment his bed felt empty. He rolled his head to the side and when his eyes fell upon you there was nothing in this world that could’ve been a better sight. He reached and softly tucked your hair out of your face. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and let his eyes fall back closed, knowing damn well when he woke up again you’d be beside him.
bonus: giyu's letters
-
Dear Y/n,
I hope this letter finds you well. I write to only beg for a moment of your time. If you regret what happened days ago then don't spare me your kindness. I long to know what you think. What you really think.
Please meet me at the training yard in two days time.
Giyu
-
Dear Y/n,
How're you today? I do not wish to bother you, I just need you to know that I care. We can forget whatever you want. I will pretend away the feelings I have if you want. Whatever you want it is yours. Just please write me back.
Giyu  
-
Dear Y/n,
I would like to speak plainly for once. I love you. You don't ever have to say it back, I just want you to know. That's all. I will stop bugging you because you do not owe me a thing. I hope you are well. If you need anything don't hesitate to reach out. I can be a friend. I can be whatever you want. Please take care of yourself.
With love, Giyu
-
667 notes · View notes
thetxtdevil · 5 months ago
Text
𝓣𝐡𝐞 𝓥𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝓞𝐟 𝓐𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚
The Siren's Call
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Siren!Soobin x Human/Fish!Reader
synopsis: The siren couldn’t do it, he latched onto your body with different intensities. His instincts wanted his talons to tear your soft flesh until the sapphire water turned into a murky red. However, something in his chest scorched every time his grip on you tightened with harm. The siren couldn’t commit to his kill.
content(spoilers): MDNI smut, mysterious, fem.reader, reader isn't a mermaid but she isn't fully human... yeah idk, my version of Nosferatu but it's of siren soobin, merpeople, biting, scratching, descriptions of blood, clit stim, soobin has two dicks, double penetration, breeding kink
word count: 4k
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄… In a land far far away, where the treetops touched the soft clouds of the sky, and the water sparkled under the glowing sun. Where mountains rose high and in which long, deep caves ran. Where the sea met the shore in a collision of tall waves. Where the undead walked among the living. Where the winged flew above the finned. In a land where things beyond any reason and rhyme existed. And amongst those very beings, within the veils of Aethera, there was…
A bright blue sky, reflecting the deep lapis ocean, becomes dark and dreary. The sun fights to shine through the grey clouds, causing parts of the atmosphere to look pink. The warm hue casts over your face, contrasting the cool waters below. It was a sight to see for the creatures in the sea to admire, something to crave for.
"Red skies at night, sailors' delight."
A groggy voice of the captain says behind you also taking a short break to look at the view. You turn your head to see all the sailors working hard on the deck of the ship. Hair flowing in the wind getting into your eyes you turn back to watch the sun disappear. A chill runs down your back, a feeling like ice water being dumped on you as a luring song reaches your ears.
A falsetto voice calls out to you, the melody is so soothing, that you touch your chest as if you could feel the song in your heart. A strong pull to the ocean had your lazy feet step closer to the railing of the ship. Your grip and feet almost felt like they were slipping, ready to fall into the salty depths. So close to reaching the unknown, you were taken away from your temptation feeling a hand grab onto you. You again turn your head to see the captain, "My lady, what are you doing?" You stutter over your words just to have the captain of the ship lose interest and continue to order the sailors around. His dark eyes rolled, and the feeling of judgment was not unfamiliar to you.
Yet you ask yourself. What were you doing? Why did you want to fall? Your worries and questions soon faded along with your memory of the beautiful song from the oceans.
Days of rocking on a ship were not for you, your eyes grew tired, and dry patches surrounded your young face. You were ready to meet your new home, to get away from the alluring sapphire waves. Thirsting to float among the sea life, but you knew you shouldn’t give in to your pleasures. The continuous nightly encounters of the same bewitching sound from the deep blue ocean weren't helping your resentment of jumping in. Every night, you couldn't help but get excited to hear the sweet sounds. It seemed to control your sleeping figure, unconsciously walking to the edge until a sailor on night duty had to drag you back to your chambers, but you would do it all over again just to hear the mystery.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
The candle-lit chamber was the only warmth you felt from the foggy day. Your maid straightens your long cream nightgown to lay nicely under the wool bedcover. She fixed your hair making sure it wouldn’t be messed up in the morning for it was your last night on the ship. “Now dear, I don’t want any of your suspicious outings tonight.” You nod your head obeying your maid’s wishes, she smiles, “Get some rest dear, you’ll be at your new home tomorrow.” Watching the woman’s lips purse huffing out the flame to your comforting candle, leaving you in the dark.
Clenching to the itchy blanket, the waves pick you and the world around you up and down. You felt used to the feeling by now; you would've been relaxed if it wasn’t for the piercing song drilling into your eardrum. Your clammy hands hooked onto the bedding, trying their best to stay put, which only made the call to you louder and more excruciating. Letting go of your stronghold on the blanket you cover your ears, clenching your eyes shut until tears were streaming down your sickly cheeks. You imagined yourself at the deck railing, lifting your fist in the pouring rain, telling the god-awful sound to stop calling for you and leave you in peace. Then the screeching melody stops.
Your body feels light. Softly opening your eyes, your breath catches in your throat, and you are in shock at your surroundings. Hunching over the wood of the deck’s rails, you were being pelted down by dagger-like raindrops. The fog was so thick the only thing you could see was the passing waters of the ocean against the ship. The wave smacks against the surface, making your body fall on the floor beneath you. You cry feeling your grip loosen, the strength of the wind and the slippery rain had your fingers shaking off of the railing. Looking back down at the crashing waves your eyes widen seeing a creature swimming near the ship with its dark long fishtail paired with sharp wings that could make it fly up and grab you. A strong gust of wind pushes the ship drastically making the floor go vertical causing you to slide down into the waters below.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
The high-pitched squawking of seagulls contrasts with the soothing tides of the beach you wake up on. Lifting your head off the sand, you wince at the aching feeling of your dry cracking skin. The environment around you was calm, the skies were a beautiful blue with fluffy peach clouds. The glitter-beige sand beneath you was soft and comforting, it almost made you want to sink in it and stay there. You scoot your bottom in the sand until you hear giggles as light as the waves. It is alluring in its way, but an unexplainable ache fills your heart, wishing your ears were filled with that falsetto song that haunted you.
Stretching out of the sand, your legs wobble fighting against gravity. You search for the uplifting giggle, it doesn’t take long to find something that leaves you astonished. Mermaids and mermen in the flesh, each sunbathing while unintentionally showing off their unique colored fishtail. Your mouth gaps like a fish out of water watching these creatures in front of you, they were something you’ve never seen before.
In the group of merpeople, you notice one merman had their attention on you. He was beautiful like a pearl sitting in a pile of rocks. He had bright, blonde hair that framed a soft face sculpted by the gods, and dewy skin that melted into the iridescent scales of his tail. The merman’s equally bright eyes look into yours, shooting worry of being caught. Your heart pounds against your chest, turning around on your heels, ready to run away until you hear a call from one of the merpeople.
“Ha! Easy pickings, stumbling into our circle.” said an indigo-tailed merman.
“This human will be fun to play with!” a yellow-tailed mermaid grins mischievously.
“S-she’s not human…” the pearl merman says, making all the merpeople’s heads turn, “Look at her, hair covered in sand, skin burnt from the sun, she’s not from the kingdom, I think she’s from a shipwreck.”
The beautiful merman’s observations made all of them look at your distant figure in intrigue. You washed up on a not-so-normal island, far from deserted, far from anything you know from your human life. The fact that you survived from wherever you came from and came upon the shore alive and in one piece could be enough to prove you weren’t like the humans hidden in the Kingdom of Aethera tucked on the island.
Stomping in the hot seaside, distraught by the predicament you have yourself in. Mind spiraling, your thoughts stumble like your feet in the wet sand. You let out a huff of defeat, feeling your face getting hot from the bubbling-up tears. The sway of the waves did nothing to calm you, canceling out your surroundings, not hearing the swishing water getting closer.
“If you’re not human, then what are you?” Your crouched body loses balance, falling into the shoreline. The yellow-tail mermaid lays on your stomach, elbows lifting her torso dripping from being in the ocean. You scrunch your eyebrows at her, not knowing what to do or say. “Where did you come from?”
You look away from the golden creature, collecting your thoughts. “I-uh, I don’t remember much,” your voice sounded spent but had the attention of the mermaid. “I was on a ship, moving to… to…” Your voice fades as if you triggered something. The siren’s call softly pierces your ears. You’ve become accustomed to looking for the creature making the sound, only to see the mermaid next to you shake her head.
Her dark spiral hair shakes with the disappointment on her face, “You must’ve been through a lot, you don’t even know how you got here.” You frown at the mermaid’s statement then hear a random giggle. “Let’s forget about the past, and play!”
Rejoining the merpeople’s circle, you thought that you had nothing else to lose. So you spent hours soaking in the sun listening to the stories of the merfolk and the island of Aethera. Eventually diving into the bright blue waters that you had been lured to yet avoiding ever since you woke up.
The chill ocean shivers up your spine, instantly cooling down your heated body. Diving into the blue water, soon being surrounded by a rainbow of tails. Splashing at each other's faces relishing in the cool breeze that naturally moved your group farther away from where you started. Passing a makeshift seaweed ball to one another, laughing at the frustrated little one who couldn’t reach for it. Everything felt nice, you felt content. You weren’t sinking in your thoughts anymore, and you were not haunted by anything.
Suddenly the water surface flushes above your head, and you are being dragged down. Fighting the capturer was no use, raising your hand to the merpeople above. They sink lower trying to reach for you until they see the dark tail and the webbed fingers that clawed at your legs. All the air escapes your lips when you watch the rainbow of tails flash away from your reach.
Drowning deep into the waters you were faced with the owner of the call that had haunted you. The creature’s talons trace the curve of your thighs to your waist, a long tail wrapping around your body. His razor teeth grin at the sight of you looking proud of his captured prey. Your mind becomes dizzy from the overwhelming events. In much need to take in air, but you can't. Your vision darkens from lack of oxygen making the creature watch your body go limp.
The siren analyzes you and your simple state, why did I pick the most beautiful human? He has been watching you for a while, admiring your interest in ocean life, smiling every time a fish jumps out of the water, and keeping count of the new barnacles that formed on the wood of the ship. Your beauty stunned the siren, how unique you looked compared to the others on deck, you danced through the crowd of men just to watch the wave pass by, salty water crinkled your blowing hair, and how alluring your eyes reflected the captivating color of the blue sea.
The siren couldn’t do it, he latched onto your body with different intensities. His instincts wanted his talons to tear your soft flesh until the sapphire water turned into a murky red. However, something in his chest scorched every time his grip on you tightened with harm. The siren couldn’t commit to his kill.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
An agonizing pain splits through your head, as you open them to the starry sky. It takes you time to remember what happened then you get a glimpse of the strange man or creature. He sat humming to himself, you were able to identify little details about him. Slouched over causing his dirty blond hair to hang over his eyes who watched as his talons traced shapes into the glistening sand. Onyx fishtail lifting at the tip, paired with bat-like wings lazily splayed out the bony structure curling in every time he breathed. His lip-biting made him look deep in contemplation.
To kill her or not to kill her.
By the state you observe yourself in, it looks like he has been fighting with himself all night. Clothes shredded and skin covered in bruises and scrapes. The scars aren't deep, bruises seem to be a mixture of love bites and forceful tugging. What did this creature want from you?
You lay there watching the siren, staring at the shoreline's roll-in. A small noise rises from his throat, a familiar song that again evokes you. It feels like mind control. Something in your chest feels like a rope is lifting you to get closer, but you feel too weak, and it hurts to get up. “W-what are you doing to me?” Your voice cracks through your dry throat.
The song abruptly pauses, and he looks back at you. You are reminded of his beauty yet you feel fear watching his wings widening in defense. His body twists on the beach, and his strong arms crawl towards you. His sharp pupils are on you, bouncing from one feature to another. You flinch when you see his taloned finger raising to your face, only to feel the light sensation of a caress.
You take another good look at the creature in the shadow of the dim night. The mixture of different species was so different, disgusting, you should hate it, but looking back at his big dark eyes you couldn’t help but melt under the gaze of his soft smile. Puffy eyes squint as he smiles, the smile that is knife-like but wide, showing off a handsome human feature of dimples. You both smile at each other like the world is somehow complete, was it because you are under the siren’s call, or was it just a rarity?
The shimmer of the damp Adam’s apple moves, and his plush lips open and close. After a while, a grunt finally forms from his mouth, “S-sor-ry” he points to himself while his eyes look over your distraught state, “f-for-give.”
Your eyes narrowed, trying to understand the siren. Your head was overwhelmed by thoughts once more. You wanted to curse yourself for feeling weak against your predator. Feeling weak to fall into the trap of forgiving him. “What do you want from me?” Your voice sounded like jagged rocks compared to the creature’s voice of smooth sand.
“I-i, t-to kill,” He pauses noticing your quicking breath rate, “b-but I can’t.” You two look into each other’s starkly different eyes. You thought to yourself, if he wanted to kill you, he could’ve done it already, unless he usually tortures his food like this. “There's something different… about you.”
You quirk your head to the side, the siren was hard to understand in general but that comment left you lost. Again, his pointed pupils rake through your body, only this time you watch as his pupils dilate into round orbs. His ragged-finned forearm lifts and taloned fingers graze your sides, big hands lightly squeezing your flesh, causing an intense warmth to build up in your stomach. His dimples pop, flashing his sharp teeth at your reaction, “S-so pretty.”
You grunt at the feeling you had from the unnerving complement. Then suddenly the creature’s teeth hid behind pursed lips, leaning in for a kiss. His surprisingly soft lips meet yours like how an ocean traces the shore. He moans tasting the salt against your cracked lips, he held himself back from using his fangs to cut your pretty lips. Breathlessly, you tear away from the siren's hold to see him pout. You felt like a lost cause, barely remembering your past, being torn away from the merpeople, stuck on an unusual island, and now you’re kissing a creature who’s put you under some type of spell. You gave up, letting the sea take you just like how it has always been, “Whatever happens to me, let me at least know your name.”
“Soobin” the siren sings his name before kissing you again. Pointed nails dig into your waist as his other webbed hand cups your face, keeping you close. A part of you was still screaming for freedom, to get away from the monster, yet you let it happen, you let Soobin do whatever he wanted. It wasn’t so torturous, the kisses traveling down your neck felt soothing with the sounds of the rising tides. Soobin’s grip on you tightens making an ache between your thighs and back arch. He clenched his fingers on your ruined dress, ripping it into shreds and leaving you exposed in front of the siren.
Every curve of your body had the creature salivating, he had never stopped to admire a human before. Soobin lowers his head, latching onto your hardened nipple. Your hands bury themselves into his sea-crisp hair, sounds bubbling in your throat. You couldn’t believe you could feel any better until you felt Soobin's nails scrape down your torso and between your legs. He made sure his talons didn’t poke at your sensitive flesh as the nubs of his fingers rubbed soft circles. The siren shivers at the wetness he discovers while touching you wanting nothing more than to have his dicks in it.
Whimpers passing through your plush lips were music to Soobin’s ears. His dimples were very evident as he cherished your withering state. Never having the pleasure of being touched, never in your wildest dream would you think it would be by such a dream before you. Your insides were tightening, you were seeing stars among the stars as your whole body shook. A cry of your orgasm awakens the quiet beach granting a smile from the siren.
You black out for a moment from the immense pleasure to be brought back to reality feeling Soobin’s tongue back to your tits. Stuttering his name you were faced with his dilated pupils that sparkled like the sky. The siren starts to hum against your skin, becoming more obsessed with you by the minute. The song fades in his throat before his deep voice asks, “Can you take me in, all of me?”
Again, you give Soobin a questioning look, not experienced with the creature and the situation. Scanning his prideful face, your eyes drift down to find something peculiar. Among the siren’s deep ebony tail, the scales around his v-line lifted to two erected dicks standing side by side. A deep gulp passes through your throat glazing back at the creature’s eyes. “C-can you?” He grunts, scooting impossibly closer to you, bodies molding into each other. You feel his bulges against your cunt causing your breath to hitch. His round nose outlines your cheek and leaves pecks waiting for your answer. A soft, “O-okay” made Soobin’s keen teeth flash in response to yours.
He hums the tune that has haunted you all the many nights before this one as he deeply kisses you. However, this time you didn’t get agitated by the vocals, instead you felt calm, knowing he was right there. He lines one of his dicks to your cunt, slowly slipping the tip in, not furthering his movements until he has his other pulsing cock line your ass. You whine loudly, eyes clenched tight, digging your nails into his arms. The siren kisses your neck soothing your nerves, while pushing into you. Soobin stayed still, he felt high off the feeling of your holes clenching around him, becoming addicted to your warmth and slickness. The creature couldn’t hold himself back any longer, and like how he swims in the deep sea, his hips skillfully thrusting into your two weeping holes
Overwhelmed by the mix of pain and pleasure, sweat accumulates on your burnt skin as you start to feel light-headed. The moon rises overcasting silver hues over you two. The wind picks up the shoreline getting closer to your connected bodies. Water splashes onto your form making you both gasp at the freezing temperature. Soobin’s furrowed eyebrows relax, opening his eyes, a crooked smile forms seeing your head thrown back moaning out to the gods. Eyes study your complexion to notice your goosebumps turning. “So, this is why I couldn’t kill you.” Too deep in your state of pleasure you don’t realize your changing appearance. Soobin grazes his fingers along your smooth skin that sporadically becomes bumpy, as red scales form. “Red skies at night, a siren’s delight.”
The sight would be alarming to the usual but Soobin was the unusual. He admired the gills splitting on your neck matched his dark love bites next to them. The glow of rubies on your skin caused hunger within the siren. Soobin wanted you more than he ever did. Pulling himself out, you whined loudly. The instant emptiness made you grab onto the siren above you. With both dicks in his webbed palm, he lines both of them into your cunt. Your eyes widen, “Soobin, I don’t think I can-”
“You can and you will.”
All this time he thought his instincts were encouraging to kill you, but now he realized this was different. Heat flushed through his body, groin aching to release inside of you. Needed you to take his seed, make you full and round, perfect to have his kind to sing through the sea. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, the drag of his two dicks had you screaming, overstimulated by the ache. Soobin clenches his fists in the sand, shoving all of him into you absorbing your gasps and whines against his lips. Your mouth opens feeling the siren consistently hit that perfect spot with both of his tips. His talons flow down your torse, lightly scraping the softness of your belly feel the bulging of your belly. Back arching, nails drawing cold blood from Soobin’s arms. The sea engulfs you two like a blanket, yet you feel warm, safe, and full.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
You surrendered, letting the siren consume you. This was a contract to stay in the Veils of Aethera forever. Accepting life on the unpredictable island that was haunted by demons that saved fallen angels, where witches cackled causing chaos, and a place where dragons can stretch their wings towards the cool blue sky. Just like how you felt about Soobin, you quickly learn that it wasn’t a bad place forever.
A cool morning breeze snaked up your spine, waking you up to the mixed sapphire and peach atmosphere. Stepping out of your small beach cabin, your feet sank in the damp sand from the shore flooding during the night. You took a moment to admire the view of crashing waves rolling in the rocking sound of serenity. Moving closer to the ocean, you slouch down, offering your hand to fill the salty liquid. Splashing it on your face, you hydrated the scarlet scales that still decorate your body.
A sorrowful sigh passes your lips as a weight fills your chest. For an island to be so unforeseen and full of the unusual you hate to wake up alone. The crashing sound of the ocean fades in your ears to be outcasted by the familiar falsetto song, but this time it is among multiple voices. The choir of the eerie melody brought warmth to your body, turning your head towards the call, you stop to smile.
In the distance, you can see your beloved siren sitting in the wet sand with smaller sirens surrounding him. An assortment of dury-colored fins, all sharing his complexion. One small fry on his lap, two sunbathing next to him, and three splashing their tails in the ocean. Heat rushes to your eyes seeing all of them together back to see you. The sirens call for you, like a rope tied around your heart leading you to them.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
As Always A Nuisance,
TxT’s Devil
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leafostuff · 7 months ago
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No Strings Attached [Ft. Billlie's Sheon and Tsuki]
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Author's Note: Im out of Hiatus!!!
And finally the continuation of No Names Needed, fun fact - this idea of a sequel with both Tsuki and Sheon was in my brain for a long time, i only now found the inspiration, time and energy to write it.
By the time this will come out, it will be 2025 so happy new year everyone, hope yall thought about your resolutions and had the a blast for 2024, Soon also my writerversary will come as well (Feb 5th) so that is hype as well.
Lastly, just want to thank @defmaybe for helping with beta reading the fic, it kinda is quite a mess when it comes to plot but i honestly enjoyed writing this so much.
And without further ado, hope yall have a fun read
================================================
So after that entire situation at the club’s bathroom with the mysterious girl, a couple of questions are now stuck in your head:
Firstly, how did she manage to convince you for a second round at her place so easily?, It’s not like you were in the right headspace for any reason considering you just reviewed the best head of your life and you were excited to see more of her but still.
Second, what are the odds that just as you were ready to take off your shirt, her roommate just so happened to arrive from her shift? Having to sit quietly on their couch listening to the awkward argument of having to leave the dorm for tonight so her roommate could sleep in peace after a long shift.
And lastly: why are they now making out on the bed with their underwear only?
“Nghh…Sheon…” is the only her roommate (which you are still not sure about
Her name) can mutter between kisses, her voice is sweet on the ears, especially when she moans with how her partner latches her luscious lips (which you can vouch for by experience) latch on a particular spot on her neck, “so good…”
“Yes unnie, it is so good” it's the way Sheon elongates the last two words which raises the sexual tension inside the room, and her hands are not left idle, rubbing her right thigh back and forth. 
“And look, he is so hard for us right now” she adds before slightly tilting her roommate's face toward your naked erection, everything happened so fast you don't even remember when you took off your pants. “What do you say, oppa, ready for round two?”
“Fuck, as long you tell me your cute roommate's name,” you finally respond, already inching closer to them with impatience and lust. However, it seems like Sheon has other plans.
“That’s not how it works” Sheon lets out a disappointed sigh, “You can't just get a girl’s name like that, first you need to let her suck your cock.” To any other person, Sheon’s response would be fucked up, but to you and the two girls? For some reason, it just makes sense. “But before all of that, let me get unnie to show her tits to us”.
Words quickly turn into actions as Sheon unclasped her roommate's bra, letting it fall onto the sheets, giving her mounds the full view they desperately needed. It's hard to pinpoint exactly her size, especially with how Sheon is not wasting a second by slowly pushing her friend’s face lower to face the tip of your hardness.
The last stretch though, she does by herself and honestly? Those two girls might as well be sisters since like Sheon, as soon as her lips wrap around the tip of your cock a switch flips in her head, immediately starting with slow and steady bobbing movement toward the base of your cock.
She even has the same deadly stare Sheon has when she looks up, seeing your eyes closed while biting your lips every time she gets your cock deeper inside her, letting out a soft mumble resembling a chuckle before increasing the pace and the passion she uses to drain you.
And it drives you fucking insane.
“Oh my god unnie, you suck his cock so fucking amazing” Sheon is shocked at the oral assault her roommate expertly does. “Let me just get naked and then I will start sucking his balls, okay, unnie?” Even with the immense pleasure you receive you can still see how Sheon quickly takes off her bra to reveal her rather small mounds before diving downward, facing your cock with a hungry gaze.
She shifts around to find a comfortable position near her roommate and then, without leaving you a place to get used to it, she immediately reaches her tongue forward, giving it a teasing lick that sends shivers to your brain never felt before.
The only thing you can do is grip the mattress of the bed, trying to find some semblance of control over your body while two professional arsonists set your body aflame with pleasure that can only be described as messy and the sounds they make doesn't help your situation.
“Mm shewon-” the black-haired girl muffles with your cock still inside her mouth, “he is swo hawrd-nghh…” she manages to say to her friend, who seems to get excited with each moment seeing her friend being fucked.
“I know, right? I bet he really likes it when girls like us suck his big, thick cock,” Sheon responds while her hands go to her roommate's hair, moving it from her face to give more space, then she turns to you. “What about you, oppa, getting close for my unnie?”.
You can only nod in response, as any other will take too much energy from you. “That's great oppa,” Sheon adds, taking a look sideways and see how into the feeling the other girl, you could bet she’s not even hearing a word of your conversation as her entire soundscape consistent of licking, slurping and moaning, all which gets you closer to what they have been waiting.
But then, Sheon rises from her position, moving herself from near her roommate to now sitting behind you. You can feel how one of her hands snakes up from behind, gliding across your naked chest before leaning her mouth to your right ears, whispering the magic you didn't know even existed.
“Fill her”
And all hell breaks loose. This simple request is enough to send you into overdrive, as you quickly put each of your hands on the black-haired girl’s head for control before releasing your first shot of your load into her mouth.
And it just doesn't stop, your mind is all hazy only focusing on that request, each buck of your hips forward gets you reaching the back of her mouth with your cock and then unloading another round of cum down her throat, getting the both of you to release a moan.
Sheon? She’s ecstatic, jumping up and down behind you frantically. Each pump of yours gets her giggling and smiling wider. “Yes, yes, yes!!, fill her oppa, fill my Tsuki unnie, she's such a slut for your big cock, let her have all of it” As if she knew all of your sweet spots, she reached her lips to your ear, giving it a loving kiss which gets you hornier.
Below you, Tsuki lets out tears from the pleasure overtaking her entire body, each drop of cum getting inside her gets her moaning while her hands gripping your thighs to not faint, meanwhile managing to mutter a slutty, needy “more” every time she takes her lips out to catch her breath, before taking you in further.
Your last drops of your white load eventually gets swallowed by Tsuki’s, pulling her lips out of your cock and letting you fall onto the bed, pleasure blurs every bit of your vision, finally having time to catch your breath for the first time of the night and your heartbeat to slow down.
“Fuck…you two…are insane” is the only thing you manage to say between heavy breaths.
“And the best part, oppa? We're not over yet,” Sheon says, her voice still seductive, you manage to raise your head and see the two girls as you suddenly notice something: their panties are off.
In front of you are now two girls, fully naked, presenting themselves to you in their full glory, Sheon with a slutty smile and a bite on her lower lip while Tsuki demeanor is more reserved however her eyes share the same curiosity and excitement as her roommate. Immediately, this gets you up and running once again.
“That's right Oppa, you still didn't have the chance to cum on Tsuki unnie's thighs…or inside my ass, and especially…” She then goes behind Tsuki, quickly inserting two digits into her pussy while her other hand goes to grope one of her tits, getting Tsuki to gasp in surprise from the surprising touch over her body.
 “You didn't get to cum inside our tight little pussies, Oppa,” she adds, now you're fully immersed in the show in front of you.
“Who knows, maybe a round or two later we could hear your name, right?”
It’s that question that guarantees both to them and to you that tonight's gonna be unlike any other night you ever had in your life.
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back2bluesidex · 8 months ago
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Slide - The Trial - MYG
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Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader 
Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?
Word count: 1.1k+
Summary: 
"Caught in a daze, I persuade her with my own complications"
Alternatively, 
You have some questions and Yoongi has no answer.
Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics
Warnings: Angst, reader's turning point. Yoongi's suffering has began.
Minors do not interact!!
Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (for early access)
Taglist requests are closed for now
A/N: another Yoongi's pov. before we dive into reader's post miscarriage angst. also, I have tagged everyone who asked to be tagged after I closed the request for the first time but I have only tagged the blogs which have age mentioned in their bios.
Read the next chapter
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“I want a daughter first and then… ummm… probably a son too. We will name her Yunri. Yoongi plus Gyuri, Yunri.” Gyuri had told him once, latching onto his arm as if it meant everything to her. 
Yoongi knew he should have felt warmth bubbling in his chest, he knew he should have felt giddy but what he felt was dread running through the entire course of his body. 
Getting married, having kids are two of the things he never planned for in life - not even when he fell in love with Gyuri, not even when he got engaged to her somewhat against his own will. 
But now he feels weird, he feels something really really uncomfortable in his chest as he stares at your weak frail form weeping while sitting at the couch. 
His own limbs feel like jelly as he realizes again that you were pregnant and the baby was his. 
A baby - his and yours. 
Why doesn’t it feel so dreadful anymore? 
Yoongi puts the entire weight of his body on his arms and pushes himself off of the ground. His toes carry his body towards you. 
But he is afraid - what if you push him away now? What if you break when he touches you? 
What if you scatter and disappear in fine dust as soon as he gets close to you? 
What if… what if… all of this is a dream? 
You don’t look at him when he silently sits beside you. It hurts him but he knows better than putting the blame on you. 
If anyone is to be blamed, then it’s him for sure. 
Yoongi opens his mouth to say something - anything. But he only gapes like a fish out of water because his thoughts don’t form a coherent sentence. 
Your face is covered with your small palms, Yoongi wants to reach out, clutch those and apologize to you until you forgive him for all the damages he has done. 
But he can’t. 
Again he is afraid to break you even more. 
“Why.. why didn’t you tell me?” Yoongi doesn’t recognize his own voice when it leaves his throat. There is much more pain than he has heard himself speak with in a while - certainly for the first time after Gyuri left. 
You sniff, then rub tears off your eyes and stare blankly at the ceiling.
The scene is awfully similar to your and his first night together. He still recalls losing himself in those dark eyes of yours little by little and then finally diving into your abyss.  
“There are tons of reasons why. But even if I did, would it change anything?” your voice is completely opposite of his - steady, firm, doesn’t bear a single hint of all the tears he has been watching you shade. 
You are truly just another version of him. 
“That doesn’t answer my question, Y/N. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” Yoongi scoots a little closer to your body. 
You sigh, a deep, resigned sigh that says you are exhausted - both mentally and physically. 
“If I told you, wouldn’t you think that this is an excuse? For keeping you all to myself? For not letting you go back to the only woman you have ever loved? Wouldn’t you, Yoongi?” You finally look at him, eyes red with continuous crying. 
Yoongi can’t stare into your eyes now. He is ashamed because you are right. He would have thought you are just like other women out there - trying to latch onto him for god knows what. 
He licks his lips instead, prepares to say something but you cut him off again. 
“Also you said … you don’t want to have kids.” your voice trembles now. 
Again you are right - Yoongi definitely doesn’t want kids. But then why losing your and his baby tugs painfully at his heartstrings? 
Why? 
“But I am responsible for your pregnancy, I- I should have been there for you.” Yoongi tries to reach out for your hand but you move away, standing on your weak feet. 
“There’s no point of regretting now. The baby is gone.” you inhale a long breath and then continue, “but I really want to know what you are doing here? At this hour? Right after rejecting me?” 
Yoongi stands up too, somewhat hyper, “I didn’t reject you. I was- I was just shocked. You ran away before- before I got to utter a single word, Y/N. I wanted to go after you but-” 
“But then the right person came to claim you and you ended up lost in her lips, am I right?” you don’t scream but anger is evident in your voice anyway. 
Yoongi recalls the doctor asking him not to stress you out any more. 
“It was a trial, Y/N. Me and Gyuri getting back together was a trial. I knew it wasn’t a good idea but when she begged me- I- I couldn’t say no. I knew I was hurting you too and I thought getting back with her would set you free. But I- I was wrong. I wasn’t free myself. I kept thinking of you.” Yoongi stops, gulps the lump in his throat and proceeds to continue, “I know I sound selfish but I got attached to you during our time together. And it is not meaningless to me as you happen to believe. You are more meaningful than most of the people in my life… including Gyuri. I… I broke things off with her, this time forever. And I came to tell you that… that I want to try being with you. If you’d let me.” 
You scoff, “and why so? Why do you want to try being with me?” 
Your question renders Yoongi speechless. He doesn’t know the answer to your question. 
“Tell me, Yoongi, why do you want to try? What is it that you feel for me?” you press more. Your new found determination of cornering him shocks him, but he knows he is the one to blame. 
And now that he wonders the answers, he can’t find any firm sentence to offer you. 
He still doesn’t know what he feels for you. 
“I- I don’t know. I don’t know what I feel for you.” 
You laugh, dry but dripping with amusement and anger, “then I would ask you to leave. You may only come back with the thought of getting together with me when you are sure about my place in your life.” 
You slowly walk away from him, taking careful steps towards your bedroom. 
Yoongi stands there as he feels the void in his chest getting bigger and bigger. A tear escapes his eyes but he still doesn’t know what he is crying for - you? The unborn baby? Or himself? 
His real trial, probably, begins here. 
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cellarspider · 3 months ago
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Star Wars: The Old Republic and the virtues of hiding under a rock
After all the fun I had writing a deep dive on the delightfully unhinged decision-making process that gave everyone in the Sith Empire equal opportunity to shoot lightning out of their fingertips, I decided hey, why not do another post on Sith-side stuff? Why not focus on another aspect of how The Old Republic's backstory set up for the players to run around being special little guys?
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Welcome to the Chiss Ascendancy, which really would rather not be here, thank you.
Spoilers for the Imperial Agent plotline, Act 2 of the Bounty Hunter plotline, Act 1 and 3 of the Jedi Knight plotline, and for the expansions up through the Traitor Among The Chiss flashpoint storyline, set just after the Knights of the Eternal Throne expansion. Also, spoilers for a 30 year old novel series, and bits of current canon. Assume all links to Wookieepedia may include unmarked spoilers for anything and everything under the sun.
Also, many, many side rambles in the picture descriptions. As soon as I realized they were a place I could hide secret bits of brain fluff, I could not be contained.
So, for a little out-of-setting backstory first: The Ascendancy is in SWTOR for one reason. If you're a Star Wars fan, you probably know his name by now. You might even be able to pronounce all of it: Grand Admiral Thrawn, known to his own people as Mitth'raw'nuruodo.
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Thrawn was a breakout character from the early Star Wars tie-in Heir to the Empire trilogy by Timothy Zahn, which you can see reflected in the increasing amount of cover space he takes up on each re-release. Zahn may not have totally intended for Thrawn to be the character everybody latched onto so hard—I mean, it was originally the Heir to the Empire trilogy, but it's officially the Thrawn Trilogy now. Which makes it confusing, because Zahn has since written two other trilogies that actually star Thrawn as a main character rather than having him as the main antagonist.
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Credit really has to go to Zahn for his work on those books, because despite his occasional insistence to the contrary, they revitalized Star Wars as a fandom. It had been seven years since Return of the Jedi came out, and there'd been nothing since then. George Lucas had been pretty burnt out after RoTJ, and the idea of a multimedia franchise wasn't all that common at the time. There'd been Marvel-produced comics, the West End Games RPG sourcebooks, a few tie-in novels, and a boatload of action figures, but all of those save for the West End Games books were produced to market the movies themselves, or directly profit off of their recent release.
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All of these were of variable quality and "Star Wars-y" feel. The Marvel comics brought us such incredible things as a carnivorous green rabbit fighting alongside the main cast, and a couple wild comics by Alan Moore where Leia gets her heart turned to diamond by omnipotent Force spirits. The Splinter of the Mind's Eye novel was written while A New Hope was still in production before George Lucas had decided Luke and Leia were siblings, and you can really tell. Zahn, however, helped by the the West End Games books as a worldbuilding reference, did some stellar work integrating his writing into the Star Wars setting, while simultaneously shaping what fans would think of as a good Star Wars outing for years to come. Hell, some of his inventions made their way back into the movies: the name Coruscant is his. But Thrawn is what most people think of as his big contribution.
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And it's for good reason! Thrawn is a memorable antagonist. He's smarter than the imperial officers depicted in the movies. He's able to outmaneuver the heroes on multiple occasions. He's got a unique gimmick that dovetails with the Imperial mindset—while the rest of the Empire utterly disdains foreign cultures, Thrawn takes an Orientalist interest in others' art, using it to build theories of a person or culture's psychology to use against them in war. In fact, as we will see repeated in SWTOR, his original role and his people are often used to represent a less obnoxious, more outwardly reasonable sort of imperial behavior.
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He's also a cool-looking blue-skinned, red-eyed alien, later revealed to be from a culture of subterranean xenophobes with complex noble house dramas, among whom he's considered to be an outlier. Through all of this, he overshadowed other characters who may have been intended as the center of attention.
What's really funny is that the very next year, D&D would get Drizzt Do'Urden, a character who unexpectedly overshadowed the others in his series who'd been the intended center of attention, who was a cool-looking gray-skinned, red-eyed drow, from a culture of subterranean xenophobes with complex noble house dramas, among whom he's considered an outlier.
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I don't know what precisely was in the zeitgeist in the early 90s, but apparently it was just a time for cool guys who grew up in caves.
It's probably similar fandom tendencies that have made both the Chiss and Drow big players in people's imaginations. Anecdotally, I'm one of those fans. You grow up liking elves, but you also became kind of a goth about it, maybe had a bit of an edgelord phase. You wanted cool elves. Possibly cool elves in space.
Apparently there was a critical mass of folks at Bioware who also were on board with cool elves in space, so they made their way into SWTOR, originally only playable for a couple of Sith-aligned classes. If you were to summarize their narrative role in a single sentence: they collectively act much as Thrawn did, providing a calmer, more collected, largely amoral presence that's peripheral to the overall setting narrative, but provides more substance to the villains.
If one were to take it less seriously, the Chiss end up as the serious side of an evil comedy duo. They are the deadpan comedic foil to the lightning-shooting madmen and their minions, the most obnoxiously british military to ever sail the stars.
So, let's dig into the Chiss a little. You kind of have to, given the "underground city" thing. Details around Chiss history and even biology have not remained fixed as canon has undergone its various convolutions, but it's generally theorized that they were the result of a genetically isolated human colony established on Csilla many thousands of years ago, which has since evolved into a near-human species, often with higher physical fitness than human average, but lower chance of spawning somebody with a Force-y destiny for whatever reason. When hyperspace travel became common, their region of space was discovered to be nigh-impenetrable due to a high concentration of wandering gravitational anomalies, which could turn your ship into an interesting collection of relativistic scrap metal.
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This means that the "Unknown Regions" in the galactic west remained largely unexplored by the Galactic Republic, and local powers had to develop their own means of navigating the region. This suited the Chiss just fine, because they really, really don't like hanging out with other people.
The Chiss Ascendancy is a major power in the Unknown Regions, and it's highly isolationist, xenophobic, and authoritarian. A Secret Police force helps maintain internal adherence to the Chiss power structure. The average Chiss citizen in the Star Wars setting will never meet a non-Chiss in their entire life. That is, unless, they're stationed in the Chiss Expansionary Defense Force.
That's a hell of a name right there.
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The CEDF takes an imperial pattern of national defense and turns it into doctrine: they never attack first. But if someone pokes the Ascendancy, the Defense Fleet will respond, and they'll make sure the poker can never poke again. But the Expansionary Fleet will scout out areas on their frontier, so, y'know, good luck to anybody who happens to be living there.
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Within the Ascendancy, a rotating cast of Ruling Families run the government, noble houses that generally specialize in specific industries, space sectors, or resources. Most of the best positions go to those born into one of these houses, but a common Chiss can theoretically become a "merit adoptive", basically a probationary house member that can eventually become "trial-born" into the house proper, possibly achieving a status of "ranking distant". That is, unless you're found to be Force-sensitive, which during the SWTOR time period would either get you exiled, or you'd spend your life on Force-suppressing drugs.
This culture is, it should be noted again, not presented as nice or right by Timothy Zahn or SWTOR, though getting into the heads of Chiss characters can make it seem very sympathetic from their perspective.
Especially when SWTOR's backstory rolls around, and the Ascendancy had the misfortune of being "discovered" by the Sith Empire.
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This led to a rather surprising pivot in Ascendancy policy: upon getting a whiff of what the Sith were about, their response was "Fantastic! Let's be friends," and swiftly negotiated a treaty to become a vassal state to the Empire, in exchange for the Empire leaving them the fuck alone.
Zahn's novels in the current Star Wars canon allude to this as a time that the movie-era Chiss are not exactly fans of, but it has an undeniable logic. The Sith are, frankly, out of their collective minds. They're also really focused on beating the snot out of the Jedi and the Republic, and they'll roll over anyone who gets in their way. Or might seem to be in their way. Or might, given the right paranoid squinting, one day maybe get in their way.
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And given the Chiss and Sith tendencies toward similar, albeit factually incompatible politics around somebody being the most special thing in the universe, the two factions had enough in common to make the deal work. At least, up until the inevitable day when the Sith would presumably try and take a swat at the Chiss. This was a delaying tactic to defend the Ascendancy against an invasion from "Lesser Space", nothing more.
One might ask, if they're worried about the Sith, why not ally with the Republic? Well, there's two issues. One, the Republic doesn't have a damn clue where the Chiss are, and the Chiss want to keep it that way. The Empire has some clue where the Chiss are. That's more clues than the Chiss want anyone but themselves to have, really.
And furthermore, the Republic isn't really a better option from the Chiss perspective. It's an alien government, largely run by more of those weird Humans that are all over the Empire as well. Its history shows periods of aggressive colonization and expansion, and, the Sith would be very quick to tell anybody, the Republic sometimes decides to just completely obliterate their foes. Do the Chiss also do that? Yes, but they're Chiss, dammit, they're allowed.
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So really, the ideal outcome for the Chiss would be that the Empire and the Republic beat each other senseless, with the Empire eventually imploding and the Republic never finding out where the Ascendancy is at all.
As Star Wars will eventually bear out, that's what happened. The Sith Empire falls apart at some point past SWTOR's time period. And in fact, the Republic would eventually go on to implode twice before anyone in the wider galaxy remembered that Chiss existed, when that funny little guy named Thrawn showed up. So, the Chiss might be the only ones who technically achieved their goals with this whole fiasco. How did they pull that off? And how funny is it to watch someone turn imperial chauvinism on the Sith Empire? The answers are: improbably, and extremely.
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Throughout the initial war between the Empire and the Republic, the Chiss served as an unseen aid to the Sith. They provided resources and covert services, but they were utterly unknown to the Republic. They were also making moves unbeknownst to the Empire—if they were going to be breaking their usual isolationism, well, why not take up some territory that nobody else wanted while nobody else was looking? And even when they did let the Empire know they were on a planet, they didn't actually tell them where, or how many. Because really, the Empire wasn't too jazzed about somewhere like Hoth. But the Chiss? With a frozen homeworld, their cities dug deep into the glaciers and bedrock? Perfect! Just like home, but with more wampas. They built a sizeable forward base there, and kept that to themselves for decades.
In fact, if confronted about the existence of the base by an Imperial agent, the man in charge of the base will respond "Our presence here is legal, based on all existing treaties. The fact that you never noticed us is immaterial."
Lol. lmao, even.
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By the time we get to Hoth in SWTOR, that base is still secret, but there's a sizeable CEDF detachment that are embedded with the Imperial forces on Hoth. And it's a decent little slice of folks, at least within the EDF. You get a whole range of people, from utter jerks like Warden Khel who tries to detain precious Jawa angel Blizz, to well-liked and respected commanders like Captains Yunaali and Yudrass, the later of whom has to patiently deal with the dumbest white man in existence.
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Yudrass is also interesting for a further reason: his voice actor Tony Armatrading was from a British Afro-Caribbean background, and his accent comes through in his performance. In the context where the Empire is firmly Evil Space Wizard Britain, the accents of the Chiss stand out. They're a much more heterogenous mix. Yudrass speaks fluent Basic, but some of the others don't. One speaks Huttese, because he was originally assigned to the Outer Rim and hasn't had the chance to pick up a further language since then. A few speak limited Basic, best illustrated by the guy who gives a delightfully unenthusiastic response to finding out a non-Chiss player character has survived an attack by Imperial traitors: "You're still alive. Huh."
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Hoth is also a fantastic place for turning around the chauvinism back on the Imperials, if you're playing as a Chiss. You can summarily ignore human officers in favor of engaging with their Chiss subordinates. You can work to have Yudrass promoted, both because of his competence and because you transparently don't like the other guy's face. You can privilege information gathered by the CEDF, because obviously they don't deal in bad intel. If you're playing an Imperial Agent, you can end up siding with the Chiss so comprehensively that you become a merit-adoptive of a Ruling Family. You can even reveal that you were never earnestly working for the Empire at all.
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On the other side of the war, It's unclear when the Republic learns about the Chiss. Probably at some point during the quagmire over Hoth, but they're never thought of as a major player. Nobody in the Republic off Hoth really mentions them. They're treated with extreme suspicion, with a couple lines that are pretty eyebrow-raising. A Chiss defector dies while trying to trade information for asylum, and a Republic major responds to the news with "It's just as well. I'm not sure the men really wanted a Chiss hanging around here." Yikes, my dude.
Still, with their presence revealed, the Chiss seem to have slowly started taking more active roles liaising with the Imperial military, working in Imperial space, or even joining Imperial organizations. This begins as projects by the Ruling Families and other prominent Houses, but individual Chiss also started taking swings at making it in Lesser Space. Some of them may have been average Chiss trying to get ahead outside of the traditional Ascendancy power structure, and some of them might never have fit in well back home in the first place.
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This is, for the record, why Chiss are a playable option for the Bounty Hunter class. It's not often remarked on though, and Bounty Hunters don't get much Chiss-specific dialog options.
And it's not like bounty hunters or Chiss are exactly welcomed in Imperial space, though. After all, the Empire has their blood purity laws and all that, if you're a non-human or non-Pureblood, you're constantly subjected to microaggressions and, frankly, macroaggressions. Possibly even megaaggressions. They'd never let Chiss near positions of power, or access to their secrets.
People who've played already know where this is going. And any curious souls who read my last post may recall a really odd evil space wizard gimp who decided he did not give one single fuck about those blood purity laws.
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Darth Jadus, blessed maniac that he is, opened Imperial Intelligence to alien recruitment with all the political grace he was known for, which was none, with a side order of self-aware cultic rambling: Everyone should have equal opportunity to access the misery that is the Empire, because the Dark Side likes it when you do that.
And in so doing, he created a very interesting proposition for motivated Chiss willing to take the risk, and an even more interesting proposition for the Ascendancy's Secret Police: they could now embed sleeper agents within an enemy security force by submitting job applications.
And this is why new players can chose to be Chiss when they play as Imperial Agents. You get a lot of Chiss-specific dialog as an Agent. The game supports player choices to explicitly say you reject the Ascendancy, or that you're secretly working for it. Or, hell, you could play a Chiss who says they're in it for themselves, and then secretly confides later that they're actually an Ascendancy spy!
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I am so, so tempted to describe the Agent plot in its absolutely bonkers entirety, but let's stick to the Ascendancy view… for now, at any rate. I probably have another of these essays in me somewhere.
So! Sleeper agents. If the Empire won't ever fuck off by itself, then the Ascendancy wanted to make sure that they had options to give it a push. That would allow them to go back to their usual isolationism, if they still wanted it—You hear at least one Aristocra intimate that the Ascendancy might go all British Empire on the rest of the galaxy, if they see the opportunity. Some Chiss now rather like the idea of being the tiny little backwater kingdom that suddenly owns literally everything, as great powers around it weaken.
Complicating their ambitions, things did not turn out that way. Well, not the way they expected. The Ascendancy was out there playing spy chess, while the Emperor was gearing up to eat the entire chess tournament.
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Honestly, there was no way the Ascendancy could've predicted the crazy shit that was going to go down in the Empire. Like, really, nobody saw that coming, not even in the Empire. Except for Darth Jadus, if you're weird enough to let him take a swing at running the entire government. Hell, if you're an Ascendancy sleeper agent, maybe he's precisely the sort of destabilizing force you want in the Empire.
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So, when it turns out you accidentally allied yourself with an eldritch monster that wants to Pac-Man all life in the galaxy, what do you do? Well, fortunately for the Ascendancy, the Jedi took care of that one for them! Unfortunately, the Jedi didn't count on the MMO having expansions. Turns out, the Emperor was not entirely dead, just a little dead. And also he had a spare Empire hiding elsewhere, just in case the first one didn't work out.
No, I'm not joking, this really happened.
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Meet the Eternal Empire, the Sith Emperor's side project where he put all its points toward a cultural victory and military automation, so when he lost control of that empire as well, his usurper was able to just kind of fling remote-controlled fleets at the rest of the galaxy.
With the Republic and Empire all war'd out, they were pretty emphatically steamrolled by the Eternal Fleet. And because the Emperor had known where the Ascendancy was, they were also in the line of fire.
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And so the Ascendancy said "Wow! We hate it! Kindly take some planets and fuck off."
And it worked! They had to pay some exorbitant taxes to the Eternal Empire, but not as crippling as what the other powers suffered—because invading them hadn't been as expensive and they made early moves to placate this new empire and its alien human madness, they mostly flew under the radar, and weren't targeted for reprisals.
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After that, there was a whole song-and-dance that included a suspiciously protagonist-shaped person uniting the rest of the galaxy against the Eternal Empire, overthrowing two or three usurpers who'd taken over (depending on whether you count the evil mastermind droid who was just kind of there to vibe), and killing the Emperor again for almost the last time, the galaxy could finally stop with that whole nonsense and come to a realization: Everyone was flat broke.
The concessions to the Eternal Empire had crippled the major powers. The Republic was reeling once again, and the Empire had lost most of its leadership and was currently in a very funny series of events that canonically end up with an 87 year old who loves shenanigans assuming the title of Emperor. the Hutt Cartel was probably still having its own problems because it was only a few years since their Supreme Mogul decided to become a raid boss and got killed, then the next one was a violent Hutt supremacist who threw a tantrum that ultimately dropped his own palace on him, and we have no clear successor after that.
The Ascendancy responded to Imperial inquiries with something along the lines of "Oh, yeah, sorry, we'd really like to help, but the Eternal Empire, wow! They really did a number on us. We can't spare any resources right now. We totally would if we could, though."
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Literally no one believes them, but because no Imperial ships have ever landed on Csilla, nobody could call them on their bullshit.
And that's about where things stand! There was a kerfuffle where one of the Ruling Families put their drama on display to foreigners, which was a big faux pas. The result is a brief series of missions that actually take place on an Ascendancy world.
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But otherwise, the Chiss have maintained their isolationism up to the present day of SWTOR's story. Are they right to do so? I mean, the game remains pretty consistent with the rest of Legends on the Ascendancy: they're a bunch of very pretty jerks who only look better in comparison to their competition, who are grand champions of jerkassitude, and because we're not in a position to see the Ascendancy inflict itself on other people. If they were a major power on the level of the Sith Empire, we'd probably see a lot more of their ugly side.
And what about playing the part of being one of these people? It's not good, certainly. Turnabout may feel like fair play, but it's not great at actually improving the situation overall.
…But it can be fun to indulge in a bit, in the fantasy of an MMO. Especially when the Empire is just so, so dunkable. It's like a less dangerous version of when the English cricket team of 1932-1933 decided it was entirely sporting to give Australians skull fractures, right up until the West Indies cricket team said "Now hear us out—what if we attacked you with the ball as well?"
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And beyond that, this is the game where you can get the chance to shoot lightning at people while your eight foot tall cannibal thrall-maybe-turned-husband approves on the sidelines. If anything, the Ascendancy might suffer from being less goofy than that. But taken in full context of the MMO, they're often standing in as the reserved or reluctant bunch who got collectively dragged into this whole mess and are just trying to ride out the chaos with all clothes, dignity, and eyebrows intact. When subjected to the galaxy's shenanigans, the Ascendancy would rather take the advice of the skeleton meme:
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And that can be deeply funny to play around with.
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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 8 months ago
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Mortality Defined
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Masterlist Word count: 1.6 k Halsin x Reader Read on AO3
Summary: You are a human, Halsin is an elf. Your lifespan is much shorter than his and he wonders if life is worth living if you're not in it.
Writer's note: I don't know why but I still can't post a full work here. I don't know why. Tumblr just doesn't allow me to add any words to these one-shots. If anyone has any solutions for me, please let me know. I'm getting frustrated.
The year changes from sunlit beach days to a sunset of leaves. Halsin always admires this time of year. The dying of the world in anticipation for new life. It's a wonderful thing and something he often ponders on.  A year is an hour in the long, long lifespan of an elf. In Halsin's busy and chaotic life it feels more like a second, but these past weeks travelling with her and the other friends he made felt like centuries. She, so humble and kind, carried the world on her shoulders.  He feels he will never understand her fully. She is human. Where he has already lived 350 years, she will get a 100 if she's lucky. With their way of life, it will probably be less. A human's body dies around them every second of every day after they're done growing.  She was 27 when they embarked on their journey to safe Faerun, a young adult in human years. When he was 27 he was just latching off the helping hands of his parents. She told him she had been living on her own since she was 18.   Now she's 32 and has been living with him since the Absolute was put down. He can tell she's slowly ageing. She is forming some smile lines and little crows feet at the corners of her eyes. Halsin hadn't really thought about elderly people as his kind doesn't visibly age much after a certain point, but then he was confronted with Shadowheart's mother who looked so frail. It suddenly made him realize that she will someday look like that as well.  Even so, there's this thing that is only found in those that are human. The phenomenon of the Impenetrable Human Spirit. A death grip on life, refusal to let go in the direst of times. When all the odds are stacked against you but you refuse to let them define you. Which sounds strange until you meet a few humans in time of war. After he realized that, he understood why so many Flaming Fists are human.  He hopes he'll never have to witness it again but to see someone so fiercely cling onto life while any other would have already perished in the same circumstances is truly a sight. Humans are a force to be reckoned with. Even with their short lifespans, they try to put something worthwhile on this plane. They want to feel accomplished.  'Halsin, dinner's ready,' her angelic voice calls from inside and Halsin snaps out of his trance. 'Did you want to eat outside?' He looks over his shoulder through the open backdoor of their cosy little cottage, straight into the kitchen where she is plating up dinner. She's a wonderful cook, an amazing partner, and a great artist. His days are spent trying to find the best way to worship her being in hopes it'll buy her another year.  'That'd be lovely. Thank you.’ She walks out with two plates and a smile on her face. He takes his plate from her as she sits down on the grass next to him.  'You were so far away all day,' she notes with her smile still on her lips, 'where did your mind go?'  'My heart, you would not want to know.'  'Don't worry me, love. You can tell me.' Halsin takes a second to compose himself, playing with his food for a second. She always tells him everything, what reason does he have to keep his worries to himself? She'll understand. She always does.  'I was pondering your mortality.'  'How so?'  'Well, I have nothing but time, but that is not the same for you. I have lived over three centuries. That's three, maybe four, human lifetimes. You are merely a tenth of my age and yet you feel like an equal.' He looks over to her, a somber smile now plays on her lips.  'That's not all, is it?'  'It is not.'  'Are you worried you will be alone after I pass? That you won't have enough time to know me?'  'Something like that, yes.'  'Something like that?' 
Read the remainder on AO3
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evilminji · 2 years ago
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Ya'll know our BELOVED? Little Baby Man?
The noodliest ghosty boy?
What if he WAS Baby? It wouldn't be the first time Danny's enemies plotting gave him offspring. Only this time it's not a clone! It's a proper GHOST baby. Like Lunch Box.
Who's the other parent I hear you ask?
Pretty human-centric view point there buddy, to assume Ghosts NEED two participants to make an offspring. OR are limited to two! Just cause Lunch Lady And Boxie are a couple doesn't mean that's the standard!
We lack data here! ASSUME NOTHING. *sciences harder in your direction*
*awkward cough*
*shuffles notes*
ANYWAY! The child! All it would really take is one(1) VERY poorly timed ambush attack. Imagine if you will, a cell. How does it multiply? While not even close, the simplistic images ARE pretty good as an explanation!
But isn't that just an ecto-clone? You say?
Close!
But THOSE? Are hollow bags of GOO!
No CORE! *slaps the chalkboard behind me*
However! If you wanted, say, a precious bundle off joy? Well, nothing can come from perfect void! You must contribute the building blocks of LIFE! And what are those, my students, in ghost biology??!
Two vital pieces! The Ectoplasm aaaaaaand? That's RIGHT!
The CORE!
A critical and ever vital part of ghost biological function.
Which, like every OTHER part of the body, is malleable. One could, say, make it smaller. Create part of a proto core. OR, should one be ALONE in this process, a FULL protocol.
Upon which, ectoplasm latches, builds, develops and grows. Becomes its own soul.
Now! Do Not mistake me! There is a WILDLY vast difference between the formation of a core and a shattered core. Between willing life and untimely second death. It is not, and never WILL be, easy to create the soul of a child. Tampering with your core is PAINFUL, dangerous, and leaves you WILDLY vulnerable.
There is a REASON Neverborn are so precious.
Buuuuut..... *pulls out a book labeled "Curses Though The Ages"* we must ALSO consider the famed Fenton Luck(tm).
Consider! Where would be the "safest" place to practice making clones of yourself? A place that's wide open. No one wearing white likely to take pot shots at you while your attention is divided in multiple places at once. No parents blowing up the basement at a delicate moment and leaving you trying to hide that extra arm for a week...
Maybe you forget... oh yeah... OTHER GHOSTS.
So there Danny floats. In the Zone. DISTRACTED. His core HUGE from all that recently Royal business as it tries to digest it. Feeling bloated. Trying to work off some energy, as it were. Then who should come along? Why, the universes BEST HUNTER of course! To say *gun powering up noise* :) HI :)
Like buddies DO.
Danny doesn't see him.
Danny is mid-split.
At his limit, honestly. Already made as many copies as he usually can. Is trying for ooooone moooooore..... when...
PAIN. Something cracks.
He loses concentration. Tries to curl in on himself.
Both 1.5 of him tries. He loses hold of the "clone's" Ecto. Somethings free floating leaving his chest along with it. Behind him, Skulker is freaking out. That was MEANT to be on opening volley. A gentle little "hey, come fight me". That crack sounded SERIOUS.
Danny can't breathe. It's like the portal all over again. He curls tighter and tighter. Feels the crown, which was not THERE until this moment, press down tight and gripping onto his head. Thrumming. And then... something feels like a muscle releasing.
His core is... smaller? He'd been watching its progress, it couldn't have digest so fast... how did it lose so much... mass...
Danny feels all the blood drain from his face.
He nearly died.
Again.
His... his soul... WHERE IS HIS SOUL?? That's a piece of him! A part of his SOU-!
He spins around... only to meet the eyes off a blearly blinking, noodlish, cartoon like gremlin with his color scheme. Who's floating along like they're in zero-g. Just... drifting in a slow circle.
They yawn at him with a mouth full of teeny tiny baby fangs. Then chirp.
That's his Son. He doesn't know how, he doesn't know WHY, but he somehow instinctively... just... KNOWS?
They blep.
Danny looks a Skulker. His eyes hold MURDER.
"You're paying child support."
"......yes sir."
@hdgnj @stealingyourbones
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every time people find a reason to start clowning on david seymour, i've learned to immediately ask myself "did he manufacture this himself and what he is trying to overshadow?"
it's very fun and cathartic to clown on the guy, don't get me wrong. but i do genuinely worry that, in many cases, he's aware that we love doing it, and is trying to bait us in one direction by making a scene of himself so that we're not looking in another when something important is happening. think how the woke sushi meme, for a while there, was seeming to overshadow the actual important discussions about kids not being fed.
news headlines will latch onto whatever is eye catching. sometimes it's the shock value, sometimes it's the absurdity, sometimes it's the comedic aspects. and i have to wonder if david is intentionally conducting himself in a way that tricks people into latching onto those eye catching spectacles.
there is no way this man is dumb enough to believe that everyone likes him and his policies. he's arrogant but he's not that dumb. and i'm sure he knows that he can leverage our hatred of him for his own gain.
i'm beginning to really believe that privatisation has been the goal from the start. it would be very easy. you simply implement a bunch of really shitty policies that fuck up the economy even more than it already was. you keep making shit worse on purpose until public services such as healthcare, ferries, social housing, all this shit is barely afloat. and right when it's about to go under, you sell it off to private firms for a cheap price. easy two step privatisation scheme. and all the while you distract everyone with unserious scandals like woke sushi and land rovers.
keep your eyes open for as long as these guys are in power. i do not trust these fuckers with anything. i'm very concerned that there's some major scheme in the works here that we're all falling victim to, something designed to strip us of public services. hell, even the fucking treaty principles bill could be a massive part of that scheme. look how massive a shitstorm that's caused; and rightly fucking so, anyone who messes with te tiriti needs to be held to account. but why the fuck is david so damn committed to this stupid fucking bill which he KNOWS will not and should not ever pass? (other than the fact that he'd a racist todger)
what else are they trying to distract us from seeing?
fight as many of these shitty bills as you can. regardless of whether it's all connected to a wider scheme or not, whether david is intentionally trying to distract us or not, whether i'm right or wrong, they still need to be fought. the economy is still being massacred regardless. bigotry is rampant among the elite. people are suffering. there's obvious government lobbying and corruption going on. we can't let anything slip under the radar.
and sweet fuck, i hope i'm just reading too far into things. if only so i don't have to give david the credit of being that intelligent ;-;
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buskingalbatross · 1 year ago
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results of a quest to identify the cicada in dnp’s rodent boy summer instagram post
[video: an audio comparison of dan howell's mediterranean cicada imitation and two real cicada species from the med]
abstract: following a perceived dearth of interest in the cicada latched onto the wall in one photo of the ten in dan and phil’s most recent joint vacation instagram post, the authors of this post (buskingalbatross and an anon who instigated this quest) have endeavored to determine its identity at the species level. using resources such as naturalism networking site iNaturalist, various scientific research articles, a databank of Mediterranean cicada song audio files, and Dan’s imitation of cicada screams in the AmazingPhil video “How Phil Nearly Died,” we have concluded that the cicada is most likely an East Aegean cicada (Cicada mordoganensis). obtaining these results would have been impossible had we not received assistance from @/bitchslapblastoids, who generously provided the herein unnamed geographical location* of dan and phil’s summer rat and relaxation destination. I would also like to thank @/pierogish for providing feedback on comparisons of cicada audio files with Dan’s cicada noises.
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[image: the individual in question]
methods, results, and conclusions below the cut.
*the authors of this tumblr post would like to flaunt their scientific achievements unencumbered by potential discourses surrounding the unearthing of this location, and thus have chosen to omit its name from this post. the authors of this tumblr post nevertheless understand that the location can be discerned by those curious enough to discern it. the authors moreover state that they harbor no wish to compromise dan and phil’s privacy.  
methods and results
iNaturalist’s search feature was used to gain an awareness of what species of cicadas have been observed on the mediterrranean peninsula where dnp went on holiday. a spreadsheet was created to organize data such as cicada common names, scientific names, the number of observations for any given species, the reliability of those observations (that is, how likely the observer was to have correctly identified a cicada; a high quality identification is referred to on iNat as a research grade ID), the period of time in which a species is the densest in numbers (most prevalent in its aboveground habitat), appearance, and, finally, a link to an audio file containing each cicada species’ song. audio files were the last piece of data to be acquired, and so were added to the spreadsheet very last.
once a list of species had been determined and entered into the spreadsheet, we compared the appearences of each candidate cicada species to dnp’s instagram image. all in all, we looked at seven cicada species: the black sorrow cicada (Cicadatra atra), the ash cicada (Cicada orni), the common cicada (Lyristes plebejus), the red cicada (Cicada haematodes), the east aegean cicada (Cicada mordoganensis), the geminate cicada (Lyristes gemellus), and Cicada lodosi (a species name now possibly defunct but with 4 observations in the area of interest in the past five years).
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[images: left - the east aegean cicada; right - the ash cicada]
then, I decided to read a truly excessive number of scientific research papers about cicadas in the mediterranean. why did I do this? besides reasons of entomology-associated passion (and legitimate professional interest), I did it because I learned that it turns out that basically, the aegean sea constitutes a “hot spot of cicada diversity,” with numerous species across different genera that nevertheless look—pretty much all the same! quite quickly, it became apparent that one blurry instagram image would be insufficient to determine the species. in fact, even if the image had been crystal clear, it wouldn’t have mattered. apparently, many cicadas of the eastern mediterranean are not morphologically distinct (meaning, again: some of them look identical) and what differentiates them is actually, primarily, their songs. they are “acoustically divergent,” with females being able to locate males of their own kind by their unique calls alone, not their looks. different species also tend to be distributed differently across this region, by which I mean some are only found on certain islands, or in certain areas of Italy, the Balkans, Greece, or Turkey, or Greece and Turkey, etc etc. I needed to read to form a better picture of all of this, essentially, and to gather clues.
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[image: some of the papers I read]
after perusing all of this fascinating literature—and also squinting really hard at dnp’s picture and the photos of cicadas we had accumulated—I came to the conclusion that, most likely, the cicada was either Cicada orni, the ash cicada, or potentially more likely, Cicada mordoganensis, the east aegean cicada. both had three observations recorded in the region of interest (the most observations of any species), and both had the most similar coloration and patterning to dnp’s cicada. my predilection for the east aegean choice stemmed from two things: 1. the east aegean cicada observations were of a higher quality (research grade) than the ash cicada, and 2. the papers I had read were telling me that while east aegeans were prevalent along the entirety of the our region of interest, ash cicadas were more constrained, geographically, to northern Turkey and the Greek mainland. in fact, according to mediterranean cicada scientists, no ash cicadas had ever been found on islands as southeast as Samos and Ikaria, two islands relatively close to the peninsula where dnp’s cicada resides. this contradicted the observations on iNaturalist.
apparently, this difference in distribution has a lot to do with the tectonic and geographical history of the eastern mediterranean. where certain cicadas are today has a lot to do with where warm refuges from ancient glaciers existed thousands and millions of years ago (cicadas like the heat). also, and I should not necessarily subject you to this tangent, but did you know that about 5 million years ago the mediterranean sea simply gave up on existence for a little while? ... during the Messinian Salinity Crisis, the mediterranean simply stopped being a sea for a little while and almost dried up completely, allowing certain creatures that could not otherwise traverse an entire sea to disperse across it, except for where there is a huge ass canyon in the seafloor, and—
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[images: highlighted, pertinent sections of papers discussing cicada distribution; relief map of the mediterranean seafloor]
anyway, what we were sorely missing at this stage were sound recordings of the cicadas. despite the evidence against the ash cicada, this cicada is still one of the most commonly found cicadas around the aegean sea. also, some of the studies I found were ten or more years old—who knows how climate change or other factors may have impacted the location of cicada populations since they were published.
while the audio of the cicadas outside in Phil’s video is poor, Dan does an imitation at 00:30 of what they’d been hearing during their trip. knowing Dan, this imitation is not merely a made-up, vaguely cicada-like noise, but an actually good approximation of the song that had been driving them crazy (this whole study mayhaps hinges on this lmao). if only we could uncover audio of these cicadas, maybe we could know for sure if this insect was of the ash or east aegean variety.
thankfully, at this point I was still reading papers. even more thankfully, the ten individuals who seemed to have cornered the market on mediterranean cicada studies since the 1970s made a website, and mentioned it in one of their papers. it is an exceptional, beautifully designed website called cicadasong.eu that evokes the ad-free, uncluttered, cozy and homemade feeling of the early noughties internet. it almost made me cry, and @/pierogish reported that seeing this website made her realize that in all these years recently spent online she had been choking, and only on cicadasong.eu was she finally able to breathe freely. on this website, there happen to be embedded YouTube videos of high quality audio recordings of all the european cicadas its creators have ever studied.
at last! comparisons of cicada songs to Dan commenced, and we were able to play the ash cicada’s sound alongside the east aegean’s and Dan’s. at the top of this post, you will find the compilation of these three sounds. here are the links to the original audio videos of the east aegean and ash cicada.
the main unit of sound—the chirp—of a cicada’s song is known scientifically as an “echeme”. in these audio files, you can perceive that, for the east aegean cicada, the duration of the echeme is longer, meaning the number of echemes per second is lower. this rhythm, and in general the structure of the east aegean cicada’s song was, in comparison to the ash cicada’s, deemed to the ear of all the authors and contributors definitively more similar to dan’s cicada song. thus, this final piece of evidence seemed to complement the rest of our data and confirm our initial assumption of the cicada’s identity.
conclusion
accumulated data has lent support to our hypothesis that the cicadas suffusing the atmosphere of dip and pip’s holiday resort with their ebullient, lascivious songs were east aegean cicadas.
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bethanydelleman · 2 years ago
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It bothers me so much that people latch onto this quote from Darcy but ignore the context around it:
“Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?” said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers?” “I can answer your question,” said Fitzwilliam, “without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.” “I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” said Darcy, “of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.”
This is the big proof that Darcy is shy/socially awkward/whatever. But there are two answers right there! Colonel Fitzwilliam has an explanation that makes Darcy look far worse: he is rude because he doesn't care to be polite.
Darcy likes Elizabeth, and while I'm sure he didn't outright lie because he's a radical truther, he definitely did not tell the whole truth! Because the girl he likes just called his behaviour "very dreadful" and he needs to make himself look better. And then we know what he says later when he feels actual remorse for his prior behaviour (which he does not feel at Rosings):
I was... allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own.
Where is his problem with conversing now? It's nowhere, because that was never the real problem. I am sure that Darcy does not converse easily with others, because I don't think he lied, but that is not why he was an unsociable asshole at the Meryton Assembly. It's because he did not think the unwashed masses of Hertfordshire were worth him putting in the effort.
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trippingontheescalator · 1 year ago
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Curious about the direction the HP fandom has gone
Okay, so as an old HP fan from way back when the books were first coming out, and then getting hit with the nostalgia and decided to return after years and years of not interacting with the fandom at all, the changes are truly mindboggling and I'd love to get to the bottom of some things.
Like, the disappearance of Blaise Zabini. Blaise was a fan favorite way back when we only knew his name but now I barely hear a whisper of his name. Now, the obvious answer is racism, which I think is the #1 reason why Blaise-pairings have dropped of significantly. Back then we all thought Blaise was a hot Italian girl, and then we found out he's a black man and suddenly people stop writing about him? Hm, yeah, seems the obvious answer (especially considering the popularity of other characters who are just a name on a page *cough*regulusblack*cough*).
Or the rise in Snape-hate. Like, Snape used to be the fan favorite. Everyone loved Snape. The meaner he was, the more we liked him. Being mean to children was a plus, not a negative lol. And this was back when we all thought he was a pureblood who came from a wealthy family like the Malfoys. Now by the time the 7th book came out I had pretty much moved on and so I didn't really see the fallout of readers discovering his actual background, so I don't know if his drop in popularity is classism and learning that he isn't a palette-swapped Lucius Malfoy or not, but honestly I would figure his impoverished background would be a plus in these times. Like Snape is obviously one of JKR's least favorite characters, and considering how she-who-must-not-be-named has destroyed her reputation with her increasing radicalization you'd figure the poor, abused, author-hating character would become more beloved instead of the rich, white, heteronormative bullies who barely even show up in the books. Like with our increasing knowledge of social injustice, I just don't understand why the fandom would want to latch onto the Marauders? And I just can't believe Snape's handful of snippets with Lily is the cause of his downfall (like what's there is barely enough to fill up a few pages, and there are certainly more toxic relationships in the series that are still beloved), or the fact that he was a Death Eater or that he inadvertently caused the deaths of the Potters (we already knew that in GoF and HPB respectively and he was still beloved, and this was when we assumed he didn't give a shit about the Potters or if they died when he went snitching). Draco is still popular. DRACO who doesn't give two shits about slinging around the word "mudblood," as opposed to Snape who actually changed for the better.
Am I just too old to understand? Is this like 90s fashion coming back in style (no, I won't do it again, I don't care if it's cringy I'm sticking with my millennial styles, I did the platforms and the slip dresses and the cargo pants in high school and I'm not putting myself through that again lol you gen z's can pry my comfortable mom jeans from my cold, dead fingers, I don't care if it makes me look old, that's the point, I AM old). Like, in addition to 90s fashion, has the 90s obsession with luxury athletic fashion like Lacoste come back in style? All those fashion ads of rich white people on yachts with popped collar polos? Are people starting to obsess over the Marauders because nouveau riche conspicuous consumption is coming back in style? It can't all just be young kids who have only read AtYD and have never actually opened one of the books, can it?
There also seems to be a trend of treating characters as if they're real people. I mean, we've always done it (Snape Wives, I'm looking at you), but now it almost feels as if the crimes characters commit are treated as if they're real crimes and that liking them is somehow a moral failing on the reader's fault. If you were to say "I don't like Snape, his douchy actions anger me, I'd rather skip all the parts he shows up in" I'd say, cool, I get that. That's normal. But "Snape is an abuser, a racist, and an incel and if you like him you're probably those things too" is fucking weird. Like, Harry and Hermione are not real children. Snape is not a real person. The things that happen in this book have as much influence on the real world as me imagining ninjas breaking into my workplace on a slow day. And that "media does not exist in a vacuum" pisses me off because it's blatantly misused. The pieces of media that have had serious consequences? Jaws, The Birth of a Nation. One resulted in the culling of sharks, the other helped restart the KKK. Do you know what those two pieces of media have in common? They're not about fucking wizards and magic schools. They instead paint a target on real groups. After twenty years nobody has ever tried to hurt a marginalized group of people because of a harry potter book (except for JKR herself).
Anyway, these are just some random thoughts, feel free to chime in with your own.
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mrcarmenile · 1 month ago
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Till’s “Love” for Mizi
i’ve been cooking up some thoughts on this for a while, and now that i’m riding an alien stage high might as well yap it up
if you know anything about my analysis habits, you know i have to talk about it. it’s a trope i eat up every time.
(this is kind of long i’m so sorry)
till’s attraction to mizi was idolization and infatuation. it was not a genuine love - i think she definitely meant a lot to him as a person, and that they did have a genuine friendship, but i think the extent of his attraction is idealization. the fact that the only reasons we get for him being “in love” with her is because she’s pretty (we’ve received this information multiple times now with this comic release) is incredibly telling.
i do think it’s not the sole reason he’s so infatuated with her - mizi, from a narrative perspective and the perspective of other characters in alien stage, represents hope. everyone is clinging to hope with every last drop of their being because it is their sole way to cope. sometimes it manifests in a genuine form of love, like we see in mizi and sua and ivan (even though there is still elements of unhealthy obsession as a coping mechanism in all of them), but it’s clear to me that in till’s case, he is not actually in love with her. she is beautiful physically and in what she represents - that is why he is obsessed with her. so far, we are given absolutely no reason to believe there is anything else to that. in fact, vivimeng keeps highlighting only those two things as reasons for till’s love for mizi.
textually, they have had till himself reference that he likes her because she’s pretty - he outright says that in this new comic and has also mentioned it in the art book (in the art book, he doesn’t say he likes her only because she’s pretty, but that’s the only thing he says about her). subtextually, we see how in till’s eyes, mizi is the embodiment of hope. this is primarily touched upon in rounds 6 & 7 - till starting to lose hope when mizi disappears, till seeing hallucinations of mizi and trying to reach out for her one last time before passing out (which is when he truly seems to lose all of his hope), till only regaining his will and determination when he sees mizi in the crowd in round 7… she is a symbol to him.
here is my main point:
till liking mizi because she’s pretty is as undeep as it gets, but i do think her being his manifestation of hope isn’t necessarily shallow - till narratively represents freedom, and conceptually speaking, freedom and hope are inherently intertwined - the idea of freedom fuels hope, and hope fuels the journey toward freedom. so i don’t think his feelings for mizi are completely shallow, but i do believe the way they ended up manifesting was not in the form of genuine love, at least not in a romantic sense. especially because he didn’t initially fall for her because she gave him hope; his obsession for her that started because of her physical appearance went on for so long that she became his hope, since he already had his mind set on her and latched onto her.
mizi representing hope is something that till “projected” (idk if that’s the right word) onto her, it was never anything she actually did that made her become that symbol. she wasn’t fighting for freedom, she isn’t even shown to be particularly hopeful herself. yes, she was bright and cheery and lovely (which we now know was partly a facade) but she doesn’t truly start becoming a symbol for hope with her own actions until she meets hyuna.
sua also viewed mizi as a manifestation of her hope, in a way that was also very much a coping mechanism and also a form of unhealthy obsession, but we know that they have a much deeper emotional bond that isn’t entirely built on idolization. for them, it was a mix of genuine love and infatuation/idolization (in which the latter causes a lot of issues in their relationship but you would have to be stupid not to see the actual bond they have.) in till and mizi’s case, they are lacking that emotional connection that would allow there to be genuine love mixed in there.
and since we’re getting the whole gang in here - ivan’s love for till also contrasts till’s love for mizi. ivan becomes obsessed with till because he gives ivan hope. he isn’t drawn to till until he sees till fighting for freedom, and when he does, he is starstruck. after being abused his whole life and just taking all the blows, he is so amazed to see someone actually fight back. ivan’s love for till starts blossoming because of something that is inherent to till as a person, and something that till shows through his own actions.
analyzing infatuation vs love is right up my alley - it is something i love to talk and think about, as it tends to be a common theme in the media and characters i enjoy (as well as a common theme in real life) and i feel as though people don’t talk about it enough. when i see it being talked about in this fandom, i see a lot of people tend to leave out the fact that mizi does mean so so much to till, as she is his token of hope, as unhealthy as it may be. and this sort of infatuation is literally present in all of the characters (except maybe hyuna?) so it’s not like till is the main offender here, the key thing that sets him apart is that he is also lacking the personal connection part (and therefore the genuine love part).
thank you for reading!
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