#you may not like him all that much but are you going to ignore the person who comes up and announces himself in charge | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daveth-isnt-dead · 3 days ago

Text

To Feel Vicariously

Summary:

No matter how hard she tries to dream about him, to moan his name in the night with her hand buried between her thighs. The truth always returns like a thunderclap, the knowledge that if she were to touch him, to kiss him, to fuck him. He wouldn’t feel a thing. “I may have a solution to this quandary.” The Herald says softly, his thumb tracing her lower lip with something more akin to scientific curiosity than any sort of affection, “If you would be willing to indulge in some experimentation.”

Contains: she/her pronouns, explicit sexual content, bittersweet ending.

Word Count: 9,072

Read on AO3

It’s early the the evening, and the light of the setting sun creeps in through the multicolored windows of the greenhouse, casting shadows in the shapes of various plants across the floor. Usually, she would be home with her mother for dinner by now, but she can be stubborn and until she finishes her work she isn’t going to be able to get any sleep. So she ignores the setting sun as best she can. Most of the commune members milling about outside don’t pay her any mind, they know not to interrupt while she is busy.

She huffs a breath, as she continues working to repair one of the sprinklers before anyone else notices that it’s broken. She has already checked all the connections on this end of the pipe and found no issues, so all she can do is re-tighten the bolts she undid earlier and hope that she can locate the problem before sundown. It’s just as she struggles with the last turn of the wrench that she notices the Herald is standing outside.

He’s speaking to someone, gesticulating lightly and she follows the movement of his hands with probably too much rapt attention. The light of the sun turns his hair orange and casts a vibrant light across his reflective form that leaves him awash in summer-gold brilliance. There is work she should be doing, but the Herald is less intimidating from a distance and she likes to look when she can. Suddenly, his eyes meet hers through the glass walls and she freezes, still crouched on the ground with a wrench in hand. Her throat suddenly dries with reckless anticipation.

The Herald does start heading towards her and that makes her hands start shaking. She drops the wrench with a clang, cursing under her breath as she picks it back up and tries to calm her racing heart.

“Are you alright?” He asks, looming in the open doorway, casting a shadow in his shape across the floor that stops just before her toes, “The irrigation hasn’t been causing you trouble, has it?”

She knows the Herald. Knows him by a name that remains just out of reach, trapped somewhere in the corners of her mind, knows him by a smile that she can barely remember, knows him by golden eyes that no longer exist. The face she thinks used to be his ripples and shifts, incomprehensible the moment she tries to grasp for it. It’s been a long time. Eight years, at least. Long enough that she shouldn't even remember as much as she does.

It's the moments of specificity that shock her. Send her reeling. She remembers that his left canine was slightly longer than the right, so it was always the first thing she saw when he smiled. Remembers exactly the way he took his coffee, is unsure if he could even drink it now if she made him a cup. His name though, his face, all she has is figments, a memory of how it felt to pronounce each individual letter, an approximation of cheekbones and eyebrows (one mole beneath his eye, she remembers that) and nothing but a blur in-between.

Looking at the Herald doesn’t help, no matter how much she tries. His face is just as much an approximation as the one in her mind. Thinner, sharper. The hollows of his cheeks an unfamiliar, iridescent whorl. A mole rests above his lip, but the one under his eye is gone and that’s the one she remembers. She hasn't told her mother, it would be pointless to tell her that she has a vague memory of the Herald from almost a decade ago, that she used to call him by name every morning, though the name now slips through the gaps in her teeth anytime she tries to feel the sound of it in her mouth again.

Tongue touching her bottom teeth, a sharp uptick and then a lilting, rolling sound at the end. Her brow furrows, chasing the movements, hoping to connect them back to the letters they mimic. Failing as always.

So it doesn't matter, because she doesn't really know the Herald at all.

She blinks, feeling her palms sweat, “No, no it’s fine. Low water pressure, I think there might be a pinch in the line.”

He crosses the room to her, his bare feet don’t make a single sound on the ground beneath and the orange light of dusk is like a misty halo eclipsed by the back of his head. His movements exude divinity, even as he debases himself by dropping to a crouch at her side. She scurries back a little, knocking over a nearby watering can with a clatter. The Herald continues looking at her, much closer now that they are for once, on the same level. She swallows, hating the way her eyes betray her by dropping to the gentle arch of his lips.

“Might I offer some assistance?” He asks quietly.

His eyes are a shifting, opalescent rainbow and his gaze is pointed, intense. She knows from her mother, that the Herald does more than just heal with his touch, she mentions hearing his voice in her head whenever she might need him. It occurs to her that his accustomation to being inside the minds of so many commune members all at once may have affected his understanding of personal space. The Herald leans in closer again, their noses are almost touching, and she has to catch herself on her hands when she almost topples backwards.

“Aren’t you busy?” She squeaks, trying to keep her face as far from his as she can. “Not presently.” The Herald replies, resting his hands on his knees, “Especially not, if assistance is required. You’ve made great contributions to this commune, it would not do for me to leave you to your own devices when help can be provided.”

Her brow furrows. Unsure how to respond to the Herald offering his assistance with irrigation repairs of all things, “Wouldn’t it be…I don't know, beneath you?”

His expression shifts minutely, a minuscule tension in his jaw, a pinch in his brow. Enough that she can only assume she’s offended him.

“Sorry!” She says quickly, “I-I didn’t mean that you couldn’t do it, just that I’m sure you have much more important things to do, I’m sorry.”

“Anything that you are willing to offer the commune, I am willing to offer in equal measure.” He responds evenly, the metallic thrumming undertone of his voice sending shivers up her spine, “Evolution is not so singular that only my actions will bring forth change. Our coalescence, our joined contributions, are necessary for our pilgrimage along that fated path. So please, allow me to help.”

She swallows thickly, eyes helplessly drawn to the sharp golden tendrils climbing up either side of his throat, “Um, Sure.” She averts her eyes, staring down at the ground instead, “We have multiple lines connecting into the sprinkler system, I’m not sure which one the pinch is in so…” she braves another look at him, only to feel her cheeks flushing when she realises that he’s leaned in close again. Close enough that she notices some of his eyelashes are blonde like the mismatched strands of hair that hang around his neck, “You could check the pipes east of the commune while I check the ones to the north?”

“Consider it done, then.” The Herald says, returning to his feet without even needing to use his hands for balance. It looks like his body is all metal, at least when the light catches on it, but he moves like it weighs nothing at all, “I will meet you back here.”

“Oh, yes, no worries.” She stammers, discombobulated at the sight of him peering down at her, “See you then, I guess.” The Herald inclines his head in her direction once, and her heart stutters when she realises that it is a bow. Then he turns and leaves back out the way he came. She had stopped breathing at some point, she can't remember when and it takes her a minute to catch her breath again. Interactions with him always leave her in pieces. Something to do with the immensity of him, the way it feels like he takes up so much space in a room, sucks up all the oxygen just by being there. Though that isn’t all it is. She still can’t escape her blurred memories of him, unable to be wrenched from the depths of her subconscious no matter how hard she tries.

She’s been living here for a few months now, and he hasn’t done anything to jog her memory. While she recalled his accent in a desperate rush when he first welcomed her and her mother to the commune, the intonation was all wrong, flat, lifeless. She remembers it being different, but different how she isn’t sure. Luckily she doesn’t see all that much of him, at least not anymore. He was very attentive the first few days after they arrived, especially to her. Probably because she was the first to decline his gift, but still ask to stay.

Her mother had been gravely injured in one of the skirmishes between the Chem Barons and Enforcers, arm wrenched from her shoulder, lungs full of Gray. She had heard vague notions of a healer somewhere in the Undercity, near the site of the long collapsed cannery and hoisted her mother’s remaining arm over her shoulders and carried her there as best she could.

The commune was a lot smaller than it is now, with only a few domed buildings and a small patch of flowers just beginning to grow. The Herald met them both at the gate as if he knew they were coming and she watched with a mixture of awe and trepidation as his mere touch regrew her mother’s arm and cleaned her lungs of the gas. Then, the Herald turned to her.

“N-No, thank you.” She’d replied in a panic when he inclined his hand towards her expectantly, “I’m fine, I don't, um-” He’d blinked at her slowly, rolling her words around in his head. Then, silently, his hand lowered back to his side. Though she caught a near imperceptible flex of his fingers like he was dispelling an ache.

“I’m just here for my mother.” She’d clarified, shying away from him, “I’d like to stay with her, if that’s…” She took a glimpse around the small commune, at all the people in matching white robes, each with his fingerprints already marked on each of their foreheads, “...allowed.”

The Herald had clasped his hands together, eyes staring directly into her own for a moment, before answering, “I do not turn people away, you are no exception.”

So she moved in with her mother, earning her keep by maintaining the water filtration and irrigation systems. It took almost a month for her to cart as much of their old belongings over from the other side of the Undercity as she could, but their odd domed house has started to feel like home. Her mother is a little different, there’s a lightness to her that shouldn’t be concerning, but still is. Even at her best, her mother loved to complain, about dirty dishes, about the weather, about the kind of music she liked listening to. Now though, she is always content, unsettlingly content.

Sighing, she pulls herself from the ground, eager to go check her side of the pipes before the sun starts setting properly. While she still feels strange walking around outside as the only non-official member of the commune, everyone else is still very polite. Offering waves and smiles whenever they see her. She tries her best to return the sentiment as she starts following the pipes north, but unlike them, she still maintains all her faults and she isn’t all that good at small talk. She used to be when it was her job. Back when she woke up before dawn to trudge her way across the bridge to Piltover and tried her hardest not to fall asleep on the trolley ride to the academy. It’s been a long time since then, and mechanical repair work never necessitated a friendly face, so one day, years ago, she hung it up at the door and didn’t put it on again.

The sun casts an orange glow across the commune, catching on the petals of yellow flowers and sending beams of coloured light across the landscape as it passes through the multicoloured glass that makes up most of the windows. There’s an eerie quiet when the commune settles in for the evening, she’s so used to the raucous sounds of the Zaun nightlife, loud drunken voices, and the occasional fistfight. The silence should be peaceful, but it only makes her feel like she’s being watched. Her feet carry her the rest of the distance, following the length of the pipes back to the nearest riverbank where the filtration tanks wheeze and groan. As far as she can tell, this set of pipes was in working order the entire way down, and while the tanks require some oiling and tightening, the water is still filtering correctly. Whatever issue the sprinkler is having must be on the other length of pipe. The Herald will be handling it, then. She briefly wonders how.

Did he have a background in engineering? She can’t remember. Her jaw tightens as she begins following the pipes back to the greenhouse, trying to remember if that was something he told her, or something she overheard. It may also have been something she made up, her memories from that time are always slipping through her fingers and sometimes she can’t resist the urge to fill the spaces with an approximation. The year after she lost her job in Piltover was stressful, she and her mother were barely able to rub two coins together. That year must account for her lapse in memory, she was on her feet every day, trying to find work anywhere, selling everything they could part with and it didn’t make any logical sense for her to reminisce. Thoughts about that old job, that old paycheck, that old customer, were pointless. She discarded them, picked up mechanics, taught herself how to repair broken pipes, heating and cooling units. Crammed every last bit of new information in her head and abandoned whatever she deemed unnecessary.

The cool breeze feels nice on the back of her neck where her hair is pulled up in a ponytail. She gives a polite wave to one of the commune members who is taking down some dry laundry from the washing line outside their house but otherwise continues singlemindedly on her trip back down the length of pipes. Thinking too much about the Herald is always dangerous, she ends up tangled in fragmented memories and complex emotions. She huffs, blowing some hair out of her face as the greenhouse comes into view in the distance.

Another of the things she remembers about the Herald, one of the things she remembers most vividly. Is that she was in love with him. Only a little bit, just enough that her heart would race when that face she can no longer remember came through the door. Enough that she would spend nights staring up at the ceiling and imagining what it would feel like if she had been bold enough to kiss him. How he would sound if her name escaped his lips in something teetering towards a moan. It’s the root cause of her discontent, the growth behind her ribs that she cannot untangle. The Herald’s face is unfamiliar, his voice is all wrong, but something in her heart remembers better than her mind does. Because the love has transferred.

Nights she used to spend desperately trying to recall the face she’s lost, are instead spent thinking about the one she has found in its place. Sometimes she doesn’t even bother moving her lips in the shape of familiar, but misplaced syllables, because it is easier to moan Herald instead. But, no matter how hard she tries to dream about him, to moan his name in the night with her hand buried between her thighs. The truth always returns like a thunderclap, the knowledge that if she were to touch him, to kiss him, to fuck him. He wouldn’t feel a thing. Some nights the reality is so disquieting that she can’t even bear to finish, but others, she squeezes her eyes shut, grits her teeth and pushes through anyway with tears beading in her eyes. The shame sinks in after.

The sun has almost made its way down behind the horizon when she makes it back to the greenhouse, the vivid orange glints off the glass and directly into her eyes. She has to shield her face with the back of her arm as she walks in through the open door and freezes in the middle of the room at the sight of the Herald crouched on the ground, holding her wrench and tightening one of the bolts on the sprinkler system.

He doesn’t look up when she comes in, just says, “The pinch was on my end of the pipes, which I am sure you have already surmised.” “I uh-” she swallows, trying to draw her eyes away from his tight grip on the wrench, “Yes, I figured that was the case.” “You've done great work maintaining the irrigation thus far.” He replies, giving the bolt one last turn that has the criss-cross of imitation tendons in his arms shifting just a little, “you caught that issue very early.” He stands from the floor, once again the picture of elegance and grace. Just being around him makes her feel like she is all knees and elbows, imperfect, fragile, “I'm thankful that you decided to remain in the commune, we gain a lot from your perspective.”

“Thank you, uh-” he steps in towards her, close enough now that she has to peer up to meet his eyes, “It's no problem, really.”

The Herald hums, eyes narrowing the slightest bit as he leans in even closer. His eyes are turquoise now and then very quickly pink, dancing towards orange when his lips part and he breathed, “I am concerned about you.”

Her heart races, her palms begin to sweat, “What…why? Have I done something wrong?”

“Wrong is not the word I would use. You have seemed restless, preoccupied. I was wondering if there was something I could do.” The thoughts re-enter her mind, unbidden. Her lips tracing the length of his collarbone, leaning up to kiss the mark above his lips, hand digging tightly into his hair as her other hand slides up under his robe to find what lays beneath. Then the next thought follows, as always, his face expressionless, her touching and kissing and pleading, but him never taking any pleasure from the action.

“No, there isn’t.” She says, picking at her cuticles.

“But there is something you want, is there not?” He intuits, easier than she would have liked.

“I-” She sighs, peering up at his achingly familiar face, trying to find any inclination towards an expression on any of his features. The ache only grows deeper when his countenance remains completely neutral. She swallows dryly, “Do you, remember me, Herald?”

He hums quietly, though his expression remains unchanged, “I did think you seemed familiar.” his head cocks to the side in what she has taken to interpreting as curiosity, “Have we crossed paths before?” His brows pinch the slightest bit, in thought, she assumes, “Did you study at the academy, perhaps?” “No, I didn’t, I couldn’t, I’m from Zaun, I-” she bites her lower lip, trying to calm herself down and just get to the point, “I worked there for a few years, in the-” “The campus cafe.” The herald finishes before she can. Her heart stammers in her chest, a warmth like sunlight dancing out from her chest all the way to the tips of her fingers. Her next breath is shaky, thick with disbelief. For some time it feels like she might not even be able to speak, but she eventually manages a simple: “Yes.”

“You disappeared one day.” He elaborates, brows tugging together enough that she notices it, “I asked where you went, but the new barista said they didn’t know.” “I-I was let go. That explosion, the apartment. All the Zaunite employees at the Academy lost their jobs that day. Effective immediately.” All the words are coming out in a desperate rush, and her breath is hiccuping with every aching gulp, “I thought about coming back, to say goodbye. To leave a note or something, but if they caught me on campus I would have been arrested. I-” she laughs breathlessly, aware that it sounds more like a sob, “You were my favourite, you know? Not that it matters now, none of it matters now, not really I just-” she looks down at the ground and shrugs a shoulder, “I think I wanted you to know anyway.”

She hopes for something she can't have. For him to admit that he missed her as much as she missed him back then, that maybe he never stopped missing her. The Herald isn’t the person he once was, though and for a long time, all he does is stare at her, unsettlingly still. She can hear the sound of the soft breeze outside the greenhouse, see the light of the sun shifting from a bright orange to a dusky purple as it slowly dips below the horizon. In the deafening silence, she realises that the Herald’s body makes a sound, a quiet thrumming, a gentle lull beneath his skin. How has she never noticed before?

“Herald?” she stammers, desperate to break the silence.

“Yes?” He replies, once again leaning in close enough that she can count his eyelashes. This time she doesn’t feel the urge to move away from him.

“What’s your name? I don’t- I can’t-”

His brow tightens, and his head tilts to the side the tiniest bit. Her breath catches in her lungs, worried that this was a question she should never have asked. Then, he exhales a steady breath and answers, “It’s Viktor.”

Viktor.

That name, those two syllables collide with her like a punch to the gut. She is suddenly awash in memories of all the times she called out to him, the way his head would spin around, a smile, a perfect smile. Despite them never sharing more than a few words each morning, he still took care to remember her name, never rushed her, and smiled when he came to collect his cup from the counter. She knew he was the dean’s assistant, knew he took far too much sugar in his coffee and heard through the ever-churning rumour mill that he was from the Undercity like she was. He had honey-gold eyes that shone whenever they caught the sun and his name was- “Viktor.” She repeats quietly, languishing in the feeling of his name dancing across her tongue.

The Herald nods, still leaning in close, peering down at her with his expressionless, opalescent eyes. She wonders, then, how much of her old memories are even applicable anymore. How much of the Herald is Viktor and vice versa? If she lifted her hand and pressed it to his cheek, would it be warm as she’d always imagined? Would the side of his throat still taste like sweat if she dragged her tongue against it?

“That was not all you wanted, was it?” The Herald asks softly, sending her plummeting back to painful reality.

“No it’s-” She turns from him, ashamed to even look him in the eye, “It’s not something you would be able to give.” she starts making to leave, muttering a quick, “I’m sorry.” as she heads to the door.

“Wait.” The Herald says, halting her at the precipice of the doorway. She clenches and unclenches her hands, awash in vibrating, nervous energy. It feels as if she will shatter into a million pieces the moment it reaches the right frequency.

“We do not have a direct connection, as I do with the rest of the commune, but I can still sense the ache tugging at you.” She can hear him draw closer, the shift of fabric around his ankles, “Allow me to help.” and then, softer, “please.”

It’s the please that does her in, that has her turning back around despite her decision to leave. She must be imagining it, but his voice sounds as if it wavered on that last word, that the metallic undertone vibrated a nervous discordance. He holds out his hand to her and she so craves the feeling of his palm against her own that she doesn’t think about what she is offering until her skin makes contact, stammering out a desperate, “N-No, wait don’t!” It’s too late. He knows. He knows instantly.

The Herald’s brows lift slightly, his mouth pinched in a straight line. She thinks he might be assessing her, silently and it makes her heart start to race. He releases her hand the moment she tugs it away, gently flexing his own fingers. As if to remember the feeling.

“I-I’m so sorry. I can leave, if you need me to, please, just-” she exclaims, clutching her hand to her chest like it will someone force the feelings he had taken back where they belong, “Just let my mother stay, please.” His next expression seems almost bewildered, though at this point she is beginning to believe that she has taken to ascribing whatever emotion best pleases her to the minute shifts of his eyes and mouth, “You think I would exile you from the commune?” He asks slowly, brows pulling together the slightest bit, “Over this?”

“You would have every right to.” She replies quickly, taking a step backward, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” “Have what?” He asks evenly, slowly, “Have been human?” he takes a careful step back towards her, wary of her desire to flee, “Had human thoughts?” his hand reaches out to press against her cheek without even an inclination of shyness or trepidation, “Did you think that I would deny you your humanity?” He whispers.

Now that he's touched her once, she can't resist letting him do it again and again, practically melting into the thrumming metal of his palm against her cheek. It isn't quite warm or cold, there's a fluctuation, a pulse, unfamiliar but far from unpleasant. She should stop him, her body is already growing so warm from just a chaste touch of his hand. He can certainly tell and she doesn't want him to do something just because he knows she wants it. Even though she does want it, immensely.

“No.” She breathes, “You have been kind, very kind, I just- I don’t want to take advantage of that kindness.” her breath catches as she says this, leaning into him further despite her words claiming she doesn’t want to do so.

“I may have a solution to this quandary.” The Herald says softly, his thumb tracing her lower lip with something more akin to scientific curiosity than any sort of affection, “If you would be willing to indulge in some experimentation.” “Experimentation?” She replies breathlessly. Her hands won't stop shaking, her body awash in a complex tangle of both nerves and excitement.

“Yes.” He responds evenly, “It is not something I have tried before, I haven’t had the need to.” his head tilts in closer to hers, the colour of his eyes swirling and shifting faster than usual, “Has this piqued your curiosity?” he asks and she must be imagining it but his tone sounds almost mischievous.

She swallows thickly, wringing her hands together, “It has.” a shaky breath, “Very much so.”

His eyebrows lift slightly, mouth settling into a shape that she interprets as satisfaction, “Would you follow me, then?”

She does. Nearly mindlessly. He leads her out the door of the greenhouse and up the sloped pathway to the central building where he usually resides. She has been inside once or twice, on the few occasions that she has needed something from him and not already found him outside. It’s not homey the way the space she shares with her mother is. Glass circles on the high walls of the domed ceiling do let in a good deal of light and she can only imagine the view of the stars through them under the cover of night, but it’s devoid of furniture or belongings and it makes her feel instantly guilty, even though he doesn’t seem bothered by the lack of comforts.

As she follows the Herald in through the round opening and into the central chamber, she idly wonders how difficult it might be to locate a large circular rug for the space. Wonders further if he would even still feel the soft fibres between his toes if he walked across it. She files the notion away for later, regardless. It would be nice to get him a gift, something tangible for once, something more than acts of service.

He waits silently for her in the middle of the chamber, standing beneath a shaft of pale purple light that reaches in through one of the windows. It catches on his edges delicately, like a caress and he looks like the picture of divinity bathed in it. She suddenly feels her throat turn dry, remembering why exactly, she is here with him right now.

“You will have to come closer.” He says, holding a hand out to her.

She sucks an anxious breath in through her nose and takes several shaky steps towards him. His hand fits wonderfully in her own and it is nice to let him touch her without the fear of him pushing her away. The Herald continues staring at her in his usual fashion, likely sifting through her mind so long as they maintain skin-to-skin contact. She bites her lower lip and turns away from him, “W-Well, I’m here now…so…” The Herald steps in closer, leaning his face down towards hers, “Like this, the connection will be most potent.” He says quietly, forehead pressed firmly against hers, “Though if either one of us feels possessed to move,” he leans back and takes her hand, resting it on the top of his head, the meat of her palm pressed against his brow, and her fingers in his hair, “This will suffice.”

“O-Okay…” She swallows thickly, “What, um, what exactly will we be doing?” She thinks that he is smiling, though it is little more than a twitch at the corners of his mouth, “What you feel, the arcane will allow me to feel through you. Complete synchronicity, acute and exact.”

“Then…you will also enjoy it?” She ventures.

“So long as you do, yes.”

A rush surges through her veins at that, coalescing into a devious warmth between her thighs. Suddenly filled with images of his mouth hanging half open in a cry of ecstasy, his spine curling into a perfect exhilarating arch.

“Yes.” The Herald clarifies, “Like that.”

She feels her cheeks flush and she pulls back from him in a panic, “I-I’m sorry, I forgot that you could see-”

“There is no need to dissimulate.” He says, before she can begin to spiral. His hand takes hers once again, this time pressing it against his cheek, “You will have to let me inside you.” (another bolt of arousal at his choice of wording) “Or it will not work.” Her next breath exits her lungs in a delicate shiver, her voice feels thick in her throat, but she manages to whisper, “Okay.” then, with her eyes closed, “Go ahead.”

His forehead presses to hers again, and suddenly the metallic rush of the arcane fills her mouth and trickles down the back of her throat, for a moment it feels like she is drowning, that she will be unable to breathe. There's a flash of swirling nebula behind her eyes, an otherwise inky blackness continuing on for all infinity and it’s like she is rising, rising, rising. The Herald clutches to her, one arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders and the feeling of his breath on her face is what pulls her back down, allowing her to sink back into the comforting weight of her body.

The connection is established, and the Herald lets out a breathless moan immediately.

He laughs, (laughs!) and then whispers, “You are so aroused, I haven’t even touched you yet.”

How cavalier his acknowledgement is only makes her more aroused, but she instinctively rushes to deny it anyway, “No I-”

“There is little point in arguing.” He interrupts, “I can feel it.” “O-Oh…” she replies, relishing in the delectable zip that runs down her spine at the way his voice wraps lazily around his words. Their positioning is a little strange, she can’t quite see him with their foreheads pressed together, but she can feel his breath is more laboured than usual. Curiosity gets the better of her, “You still need to breathe?” she asks quickly. He hums, “Not in the same way you do. I can survive without oxygen, but the air circulation prevents me from overheating.” “You-You’re breathing quite quickly now.” “I am.” Her stomach is in knots, her heart has worked its way up to the base of her throat, “Does that mean that you’re…um…” “Hot?” He finishes for her, “It does.” Tentatively, she reaches a hand out, sliding up the length of his bare arm and sucking in a shaky breath at the feeling of pulsating warmth beneath his metallic exterior. The closer her hand moves to his chest, the hotter it becomes and when she grows bold enough to slip her hand under his robe and press her palm against where his heart would be, she can feel the incessant fluctuating thrum beneath her hand. It’s only when the Herald lets out another shaky moan that she realises how intensely she feels this intimacy between her thighs.

He follows her lead, the arm he had wound around her shoulders shifts as he slides his hand across her shoulder blades and up the side of her neck. She whimpers softly when his thumb runs up the length of her trachea, exerting enough pressure that her breath catches with the motion. A shaky exhale escapes the Herald’s mouth as he brings that hand down, dipping just beneath the low collar of her shirt to trace the line of her collarbone and that breath becomes a whine when his second hand joins the first and begins undoing her buttons. He must feel the enormity, the shivering desperation as he slowly pushes her unbuttoned shirt from her shoulders, slipping down until it catches in the crook of her elbows.

His hands are large and pulsing with incredible warmth as they reach out to wrap around the base of her ribcage, trapping her between them. Her breath stutters in her throat, her second hand jumping up to tangle in the hair on the back of his head, locking his forehead against hers. One of his hands slides up and over her brassiere and both their mouths open in a shaky moan at the feeling of him squeezing.

“You are very sensitive.” The Herald whispers, his thumb reaching up to rub a single circle around her nipple through the fabric. His following moan breaks halfway through, catching somewhere in the back of his throat. Her own moan is more shivery, breathless. Chest arching out towards him, desperate for more. The Herald slips his hand up under her brassiere and the feeling of his metal fingers pressing firmly into her soft flesh has her gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut. A whine escapes the Herald’s throat, “It is…overwhelming.”

“What can I say? You overwhelm me.” She murmurs, breath catching as his second hand joins his first, dancing tantalising circles around both her nipples. The Herald doesn't respond, almost like he can’t. He pinches her nipples hard enough that she lets out a yelp and she feels his hips stutter forward when the sensation reverberates through him. It’s a curious and very human reaction. She’s addicted to it. Her hand slides down, fingers tucking under the array of straps at his side and gripping tightly to his thin waist, thumb rubbing along one of the raised, golden lines decorating his skin.

“Can you feel that?” She asks quietly. He gulps a breath and she feels him shake his head, “I cannot.” a whimper escapes from behind his teeth and he clarifies, “But I can feel how it feels for you when you touch me and that feels…very good.”

Her hand shakes when she lifts it up to grab one of his own, sliding it down from her chest to her stomach, “More, please.” she begs, her hand returning to its place on his waist.

He lets out a shivery sort of moan as the tips of his fingers trace just above the waistband of her pants, his breath hitches just as hers does, right when his digits disappear beneath the fabric. Her hand on his waist clings tightly and the one on the back of his head fists into his hair. Her knees feel weak like she might lose balance any minute as his fingers descend into her underwear. His next moan is guttural, all in the back of his throat when the pads of his finger bump against her clit. She lets out a punched-out sort of sound, hips stuttering out of her control at the feeling. It’s been a very long time since someone else has touched her, she’s so unbelievably wet and sensitive that another small circle of his fingers has her wanting to double over in ecstasy.

The Herald mutters something under his breath, all sharp constants, in a language she doesn't understand. His fingers continue tracing small, gentle circles around her swollen clit, his entire body shuddering with each featherlight touch and she isn’t faring much better. Her hands fumble in an attempt to get the straps at his waist undone, cursing out loud as her hands fall short of the task.

Understanding what she wants, the Herald removes his second hand from her breast, hissing out a moan as the flat of his palm brushes her nipple on the way down. The hand between her legs continues its ministrations as the other moves to the elaborate set of buckles at his waist and starts quickly unfastening them. She’s quickly distracted by one of his fingers sliding down between her folds and lightly brushing her entrance. She grits a moan out from between her teeth and the Herald makes a choked sort of sound that is quickly followed by the satisfying rustle of his robe coming undone.

Her hand slides down to his hip, momentarily shocked at the alien curve of it, its sharp protrusion from the rest of his narrow body. Her curious fingers quickly find that there is a dip underneath, an inch or two of empty space before her fingertips meet the joint where his leg connects. It should likely be more disquieting than it is, but the only realisation that comes to mind is how easy it will be to hook her fingers under his hip and grab.

So she does, grabbing tightly with both hands, in a grip so tight it might be painful if he could actually feel it. The Herald stutters a moan, more of those unfamiliar constants leaving his mouth in a rush as the tip of his finger finally presses inside of her. The sound she makes is nearly a sob, gripping white-knuckled to the unyielding solidity of his hips. Her cunt accepts his finger more than willingly when it slips the rest of the way in, curling up in a way that nearly has her seeing stars behind her eyes, that has the Herald whining and quivering under her grip.

“W-Wait, please.” She manages to stammer, resisting the urge to grind down on his finger. The Herald stills, though she still hears the frantic inhale of his breath. One of her hands moves from his hips and up to his face. At first, cupping his cheek and then slowly sliding up to the position he taught her. Fingers on the top of his head, base of her palm against his brow. The Herald slowly leans his head back, his eyes meeting hers for the first time in a while. The swirling rainbow of his irises has quietly settled somewhere in the direction of orange, but with his next blink, the colours begin shifting again. His lips are beautifully well-bitten, and while there is no flush on his high cheekbones, the lax expression on his face makes him look utterly wrecked. Her lip curls just a little, at the thought of her own human feelings so thoroughly debasing him, forcing him back into the imperfect box of humanity for just a moment.

It’s tentative, nervous, when she tilts her head up in his direction. Despite his hand down her pants and one of his fingers still buried in her cunt, this, a kiss. It feels too far, too fragile and dangerous at the same time. The Herald doesn’t move, but he must feel her own racing heart because his breath quickens again as she slowly leans in, feeling that desperate breath across her lips. He doesn’t kiss back at first, her lips meet his just once, testing the waters. When she pulls back his tongue darts out to wet his lower lip.

She’s shaking, gulps down a nervous breath that does nothing to calm her nerves, “Herald?” “Yes?”

“Can- Can I call you-” His free hand reaches up and cups her cheek, he leans in close, in that way that used to unsettle her and whispers, gently, “You may.”

“Viktor,” A weight lifts from her, something inadvisable settling syrupy and warm within her veins. Her lips meet his again, though this time he kisses back and against the softness of his lips she breathes, “Please keep touching me.” The finger inside her curls up once again, sliding in and out of her at a tortuous pace that has the both of them gasping and moaning into each other’s mouths. She spreads her legs a little, to make it easier for him, mouth opening beneath his and keening loudly at the feeling of his tongue meeting hers. It must be strange for him to match her movements when he doesn’t feel his own end of the exchange, so when his tongue traces her upper row of teeth and licks at her own just the way she likes it, she can only assume that it’s muscle memory. A second finger joins the first inside her and the Herald exclaims her name in a broken moan, which has a bolt of arousal zipping down between her thighs that he then also feels. It’s a feedback loop, a circuitous tangle, his pleasure is her pleasure and vice versa. She can tell that he is having some trouble maneuvering his hand from within her pants, the crook of his fingers is still utterly delectable, but his movements are stiff. Being careful to keep her hand pressed firm against his brow, lest their connection sever, she brings her other hand down to the buttons on her pants, struggling to get them undone.

The Herald pushes her hand out of the way, “Permit me.” He breathes into her open mouth.

She lets out a whine of disappointment when the fingers inside her retreat for just a moment, joining his other hand on the front of her pants, undoing her buttons and slowly inching the fabric down her thighs. The Herald presses a wet kiss to the side of her throat and then surprises her by dropping to his knees to help tug both her pants and underwear the rest of the way down her legs. She feels an odd sense of satisfaction, seeing him knelt beneath her with her hand atop the crown of his head. It’s as if she is curing him of an ailment he didn’t know he could possess anymore, something of the body, something wet and writhing and so imperfectly human.

“Viktor…” She whispers, just to feel the taste of those letters on her tongue again.

He hums beneath her, swirling, half-lidded eyes peering up from between her legs. One of his hands slides up from her knee to her hip and his mouth drops open in a whine at the resounding shiver that sends up her spine. Then, the moment she imagines that mouth of his on her cunt, he leans forward to do exactly that. The hand she has on his head tightens, yanking hard at his hair when the warm curl of his tongue meets her oversensitive clit. Her whole body shudders and she feels his hand on her hip grip tight, him moaning desperately against her, shaking just as much as she is.

His second hand lifts, gliding up the inside of her opposite thigh and she watches in utter bewitchment as the disheveled fabric of his robe slips off his shoulder and pools around his kneeling form. He’s a vision in the pale light, an intricate interlace of purple and gold that shines under her delicate observation. With his face still buried in her thighs, she can see the full length of his spine, the sharp jut of his shoulders and the mess her grasping fingers have turned his hair into. She feels, more than she hears, him moan against her again and her cheeks warm when she realises the way she feels even observing him, is enough to make him moan.

The next brush of his tongue has her hips stuttering out towards him, her breath catching in her throat. Her other hand joins the first on his head, gripping tightly to the base of his skull for purchase. His mouth opens in a guttural moan, fingers continuing their journey up and gently brushing against her entrance, teasing her with the promise of resumed penetration. She feels him shiver beneath her when two fingers easily slip in, though only to the first knuckle, and again when his tongue brushes around her clit in a light circle. The sounds he is making beneath her are evangelical, the combined vibration of his human tone and the mechanical rumbling underneath. Her breath comes fast, hips gyrating, desperate for more of his tongue, his fingers, his noises.

“More, please.” She stammers out, sweat beading on the back of her neck, jaw tensed as her body inches closer and closer to its peak, “Please, Viktor.” He grunts against her, mouth still working against her clit, licking and sucking as he finally slips both of those long long fingers all the way inside her. Their moans intermingle when those fingers crook up, she tosses her head backward and he buries his head somehow deeper between her thighs. The hand he has gripped to her hip holds her so tight that she can imagine there will be bruises and even that thought has them both moaning again. She’s getting close, her knees are struggling to hold her weight and she can feel the amalgam of his saliva and her own slick coating her inner thighs. Her head lolls forward, body too loose and shaky to keep it upright anymore, whimpering and panting as his tongue continues circling circling.

“Wait.” She croaks, throat aching from all the moaning she has been doing.

The Herald stops, pulling back from between her thighs and peering up at her, the opalescent swirl of his irises has been completely swallowed by his pupils, eyes blown wide. His mouth drops open in a quiet moan, the response to her own arousal at seeing him so utterly debauched beneath her.

She swallows, forcing her shaky legs to obey as she brings herself down to the floor, sitting up on her knees so she doesn't obstruct his hand where it still rests between her legs. Her breath comes quickly, her mouth dry and she leans in towards him, “I want you to feel it completely.” she whispers, pressing her forehead to his again, hands sliding down from his head and gripping his bare shoulders, “Please.” A shaky breath leaves him, hitching when his fingers move within her the smallest bit, “Do not concern yourself with that.” he breathes, “I feel everything. Every quiver, every shake.” his fingers crook upward and she cries out, his moan is more subdued and he continues, “I feel that vividly, a pleasure so precise that it nearly aches.” his thumb moves upwards, circling her clit, the both of them release a drawn out whine, “This is different, twitching, frantic. It feels like too much and not enough at the same time. Addictive and maddening.” “Please, Viktor, please.” He lets out a grunt, fingers returning to their previous pace, a rhythmic in and out, curling up exactly where she needs it, “And when you say my name, I feel that too. A more complex feeling, incomparable.”

She hates to ponder what feeling that is, but she feels it too. A growing warmth, a softness. She ignores it for now, losing herself in the raising pleasure between her thighs, the tightening, aching build. The Herald’s free hand grabs the back of her head and she mirrors him, locking their foreheads together, her hips writhing and grinding into his fingers, but desperate not to lose their connection. She needs it, for him to finish with her, whatever that might mean for him. Now though, with her eyes squeezed shut and nothing but the sound of their mingling moans, she can’t help but imagine his eyes are gold.

“M’close.” She whines, gritting her teeth, crying out as she feels the intrusion of a third finger. He can feel what she does and knows what she needs before she asks for it. The moment she needs him to speed up he already has, when she is about to ask for more focus on her clit, he is already doing it. Every single one of her moans is followed by one of his, she can feel him shaking, and hear his rapid breath. The tension grows nearly painful, she’s desperate, hungry and then suddenly, all at once, the tension snaps, she sees white behind her eyes and then she sees black.

She tumbles for a moment, her body weightless, spinning and twirling in a sea of darkness. It’s like she’s been winded, no matter how much she breathes it just doesn’t take and then for just a moment she can see him. A face she had forgotten, a smile she had tried so hard to recall in her dreams, crooked teeth, a mole on his upper cheek.

“Viktor?” She has time to whisper, reaching out to him, scrambling to find purchase somewhere in the void.

He whispers her name back and his voice holds so much emotion that she nearly wants to start crying.

His eyes are so beautiful, so golden and-

Her breath returns. Her knees ache on the hard floor and she winces as the feeling of three fingers sliding out of her. There are tears stinging in her eyes and the Herald’s hand lifts gently to wipe them away. She peers up at him, despite the tangled mess of his hair and his heavy breath, she still can’t make any true sense of his expression. The sun has completely set outside now, the only light is the pale shine of the moon casting a beam in through the ceiling. It’s cold. She feels cold.

“Are you alright?” He asks evenly, head tilted to the side the way it so often is.

She presses the heels of her palms into her eyes to stop the tears, “Yes, I’m sorry, I don’t-” she laughs weakly, removing her hands, “Did you um-” “Yes.” He’s giving her one of those almost smiles again, and it’s better than nothing, “When you did.” It’s a little uncouth, but she can't resist peering down between his legs.

“I do not have genitalia, if that is what you are looking for.” He clarifies, hardly scandalized by her leering, “I experienced your orgasm as you did, even if my body could not fully react to it.”

She lowers from her knees and tucks her legs under herself. Just as she starts feeling self-conscious, the Herald drapes his robe around her shoulders and she lets out a tired little laugh, “Thank you.” she wraps the fabric around herself to keep warm, and the Herald sits crosslegged in front of her. She chews her lower lip, “It felt…good, for you, right?” “Very.” He replies nonchalantly. Sitting up completely straight with his usual poise and grace, “Thank you for permitting my experimentation.”

“No um, thank you for indulging me. I suppose.” She turns from him, looking down at where her fingers toy with the fabric of his robe, “Herald, um I-” her breath shakes, she wishes it didn’t, “I saw something, when I…” “The arcane, a byproduct of our connection, I believe.” “You were there.” She says weakly. “I always am.” The Herald confirms, “I exist both here and within the arcane in all instances, it is not so much a severance as it is a confluence. My perception is doubled, not halved.”

It’s strange to have an answer. To know that Viktor’s golden eyes are always watching her from behind the Herald’s opalescent ones. She isn't certain whether that knowledge makes her feel better or worse about the everpresent ache in her chest. It’s late now, though and her body slumps with post-orgasm lethargy, she needs rest.

“I will accompany you home.” The Herald says, the moment she decides to leave.

“Thank you.” She replies, rising up on her knees, “But before I go I-” she reaches her hand out, resting her palm against his brow, “I want you to feel this.” she whispers, and then presses her lips to his, clutching to him tightly, hoping that somewhere trapped in the endless expanse of the arcane, Viktor is watching.

The Herald wraps his arms around her shoulders, and when his breath catches, it sounds suspiciously like a sob.

#viktor/reader #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #bree writes occasionally

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starrysan · 2 days ago

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nouvelle vague

↳ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅ? [12]

pairing: korea local!yunho x new to city!reader [smau]

masterlist || prev chap || next chap

third person pov

y/n was working at their desk when they were called into their bosses office. “you asked for me?” when say walking into the office and sitting down. “yes i did” the boss hums typing on her computer. she gestures for them to have a seat though they were already seated.

"you've been here a few months now, yes?" she asks. "yes I have" y/n replies. "im sorry.. did I do something wrong? I thought I reported everything in a timely mann-" y/n starts. "nothing like that" their boss assures them.

"you've been doing great. really incredibly" their boss continues. "its not confirmed but we may move you back to the Australia branch" she drops finally to which y/n freezes on the spot. "i.. im sorry what?" y/n makes sure they heard her correctly. "the employment isn't going as well there since to be honest we moved a lot of people abroad this quarter" their boss continues.

"I was told i'd be here for minimum a year its barely been 8 months" y/n says in disbelief. "I know.. im sorry" the boss replies though it honestly didn't seem that convincing. y/n leaves the office in defeat. it of course wasn't confirmed but the fact that it could happen made them freak out.

they tried texting yunho who wasn't responding again but he's busy they shouldn't bother him its fine. they texted chris for a bit, texted san as well. started getting worried about yunho since he wasn't responding and started freaking out about their job again. they panic FaceTimed chris who picked up immediately.

"everything ok?" chris asked through the phone to which he got a quick "no" from y/n. they re-explain everything their boss had told them "I miss you so much but I also love Korea so much now and I know nothings confirmed but im still scared" y/n rambles. "everythings going to all work out y/n don't worry" chris reassures them.

"I know.. im sorry I shouldn't be freaking out right now" y/n sighs. "don't apologize" chris hums. "I cant confirm what will happen of course but youre strong y/n it'll all work out and be okay" chris finishes. "thanks chris" y/n says.

the two hang up the call and y/n goes back to trying to test yunho with no success. he was at work for another couple hours but they thought he'd at least be able to look at his texts. maybe he was sick of them already.

they tried not to think that way but it only made the thoughts they had in the back of their head stronger. he didn't really like them did he? who were they kidding.. he was too busy for someone as high maintenance as they were. they should have known he'd get tired of them.

maybe he was ignoring them to send them a message without actually telling them. that had to be it? did they do something wrong? did they screw up that bad that he didn't even want to talk to them. all these thoughts rushed into their head till they got an abrupt phone call from mingi that broke them from their thoughts.

"hi mingi" they say picking up the call. "y/nnnnn" mingi says excitedly. "what's up? hope im not bothering you I know you have work right now" he giggles over the phone. to not let him know the anguish they were going through they pretended everything was completely fine. "hi mingi" they chuckle. "yeah im good what's up?"

"just wanted to call you its been a hot minute want to hang out later?" he asks, y/n hears yeosang's distant voice telling him not to bother them at work. "tell yeosang I say hello" y/n hums. "sang y/n says heyy" mingi practically yells. "hi y/n" yeosang chimes in.

y/n got off the phone in a bit of a better mood. mingi always had that charm of helping them feel better. they decide not to think about the potential doom of leaving Korea and head home for the night. they send one last text to yunho wishing him goodnight before crashing and falling asleep.

a notification chimes just as they're falling asleep, from yunho..

extras!

y/n overthinks a lot

mingi #1 y/n cheer upper!

ty for reading!

pls fill out the taglist form if you'd like to be added <3

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#starrysan #ateez #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smau #yunho #yunho ateez #yunho x reader #yunho imagines #yunho smau #jeong yunho #yunho fic #ateez yunho

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orimuraa · 7 hours ago

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ㅤㅤ ༊·˚ Like a fantasy - OT7

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆tropes enhypen would be ⨾

۶ৎ ot7!enhypen x fem!reader ┆fluff┆kisses, headcanons┆ wc 1k

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: hehe..someone get me a man like ni-ki 😔 reblogs and feedback appreciated ^^ comment or send in an ask if you think i should write individual oneshots based off of these scenarios 👀

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

hehe ok..hear me out...but heeseung definitely gives brother's best friend trope

like, imagine your jake's little sister

and heeseung is always at your house bc of jake

and you've developed a small crush on heeseung but who wouldn't

but you're scared that jake will be mad, being the overprotective brother he is

heeseung has also been silently crushing on you, too scared of his best friend though to make a move

so when he comes clean to jake and shockingly gets jake's go ahead to date you (after a bribe with ramyeon), he's rushing out to plan the perfect way to ask you out

idk but hee just seems like the type to be a forehead kisser bc he knows jake does NAWT wanna see him smoochin his little sis

but yeah <3 he loves you so much and is so grateful to have you <3

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

uhh ok soo...i'm feeling maybe co-workers to lovers? don't question it

i see jay as one of your friendly co-workers who is insanely hot and you may or may not have a tiny crush on him

but it's okay bc he likes you too >//<

your desks are next to each other and so you have gotten many opportunities to talk and get to know each other better

he brings you coffee every morning as a sweet gesture

i feel like he would confess about his feelings first, then ask you out on a date

he's so over the moon when you say you've liked him too for a while now

when you guys are working, he'll definitely steal a couple kisses 🤭

the office most definitely ships you guys too

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

childhood besties to lovers.

period.

he's so loser coded too...

like, he's know you since forever and he's also liked you since forever >.<

jake is so whipped for you though lmao

he's definitely the type to chase away all the guys who are interested in you because he's jealous~

jake is always at your house because duhh he's jake and he can be

no but seriously, i think that it would be like you catch feelings for him too, but you're scared of ruining the friendship so you distance yourself a bit

but when he confronts you, he ends up tripping over his words and accidentally spilling that he's liked you for years now

big on kissing cause he's so loser coded <3

jk i love him....but he's just childhood bestie material

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

so uhh i don't know what this one is called...but basically, sunghoon's super popular and he's like, a jock and all that

but you're kinda quiet, nerdy, and less about being in the spotlight

and so sunghoon is kinda dumb and failing some of his classes, so the teacher assigns you to tutor him

at first, sunghoon thinks he's gonna hate this, but when he sees you, a gorgeous, sweet girl, he decides to make it worth while

he's such a flirt yet you're a pro at ignoring it, making him fall for you even more

eventually, he gets you to fall for his charm and then asks you out <3

he's never been so happy with someone and you really bring out a playful side of him

sunghoon has no shame kissing you whenever and wherever

so you better get used to all the attention now >//<

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

sunoo kinda gives strangers to lovers but like, cafe version

so he works at a cafe that you have just discovered and you really love it so you become a regular customer

you've always been too shy to ask the front worker for his number but you can read his little name tag that says his name is 'sunoo'

sunoo knows you as "pretty cafe girl" not having the guts to ask you

eventually, sunoo grows some balls and writes his number on a napkin one day, handing it to you along with your usual order

"hey, i think you're really pretty and i would love to get to know you <3 xxx-xxx-xxxx -sunoo"

AFGHJS he's so smooth

he'll take you out on a couple dates before making things official with you

and let me tell you, he absolutely adores you and you're the best thing that has ever happened to him <3

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

screams academic rival to lovers

you and him have always been neck and neck with each other in terms of academics

you've beaten him in certain classes and so has he, fueling your hatred for each other

but one day, you get paired to work together

and at first, you hate it and you hate him

but slowly, you start to realize just how kind and funny he is

jungwon has a similar encounter because after a few study sessions together, he realizes that he really has no other reason to hate you

your smart, sweet, funny, and really pretty, so he thinks, why not just become friends? why continue this rivalry?

when you two start dating, it shocks the whole school because wdym the two rivals are dating now???

occasional teasing about higher scores still happens tho <3

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村力

ni-ki kinda gives like, enemies to lovers ngl...

but not really true enemies, just kinda like, he teases you a lot and you find him annoying

you don't exactly remember when it happened, but one day, ni-ki just stopped teasing you completely, replacing all the teasing with kind actions

this confused you so bad and when you questioned him about it, he just shrugged it off, hiding the blush on his cheeks

turns out, he's actually liked you for a while and when he went to get advice from his hyungs, they told him to stop annoying you and start being kind

this is all revealed to you when you actually become friends with him

you also confess that you've had a small crush on him as well and he's so excited >//<

he will ask you out so quickly bc he's just so happy that you like him back (OH MY GOSH HE'S SO CUTE TT)

but yeah, he still enjoys teasing you very much <3 just not as much

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

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faewrenbird · 2 days ago

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Homicipher Theory

Mr. Gap: The Homicidal Stalker

Disclaimer: This is all just my own interpretation and speculation. This is not negative or an attack on the character. I love Mr. Gap for being the worst of the worst. He’s sickening and awful and makes my skin crawl but in the best way that horror fiction can manage.

That said, Trigger Warnings: Mentions of stalking, sexual assault, serial killing, and cannibalism

Also

Homicipher spoilers/Mr Gap ending spoilers

If we go by my pre-established theory that the Ghost Apartments are a haunted grounds where an apartment building was built over the ruins of a hospital and collapsed subway, then we must assume that it’s haunted by ghosts from many different time periods. I believe that ghosts like Mr. Crawling and Mr. Hood are among the oldest, original haunts. Ghosts like Mr. Silvair and the nurse are from the hospital time period. Some ghosts are from the subway collapse. And some, like Mr. Gap and the Bride, are more recent, from when the apartment building still had occupants before its abandonment.

Mr. Gap is a rather unique entity among the ghosts. He’s the only one who can be anywhere at any time, can easily shift between the real world and the spirit realm, and clearly understands that he is a ghost.

But why? What makes him special?

I fear that the answer may be an unsavory one...

Mr. Gap

Mr. Gap is the second entity we can meet once we wake up with control of ourselves in the Ghost Apartments. Moments before we meet him, Mr. Hood gives us a warning. He tells us to be careful, there are dangerous entities out there.

Ignoring his advice entirely, we interact with Mr. Gap. And since we don’t know the language yet, we’re very likely to smile at him, resulting in our first swift death of the game via getting our heart ripped out and eaten.

The best thing we can do in early game is to ignore him. When he asks for a body part, step away. Later on, we can interact with him more directly, but initially, survival means not flashing him our pearly whites.

It becomes obvious early on why he’s called Mr. Gap. It’s because he…well, he only exists in gaps. He’s not a roaming ghost, he appears to be bound by the walls of this ever-changing building. But wherever there’s a hole in the wall, there’s Mr. Gap, peering out from between strands of greasy hair with one eye.

Every time we interact with him, he requests a body part from us. Heart, arm, leg, head…and he means this literally. If we consent (or even just smile at him) he’ll devour whatever body part he asked for.

But he can be helpful. While being chased by Mr. Hugeface, we can desperately ask him to get us out of there and force ourselves into a vent with him. He agrees to take us to safety, though not out of the kindness of his heart. He always wants something in return. Fortunately for us, he settles for just some of our hair this time.

There is never a time when he’s not trying to weasel something out of us. Even in his own endings, he bargains and pleads for our heart.

Now, you can easily interpret this to simply mean that he’s some sort of mischievous spirit. Evil in the eyes of humans, but more of a representation of chaotic neutral yokai. Certainly, some of the entities in the Ghost Apartments bear loose similarities to yokai. And the tropes of bargaining and trickery go hand in hand with these sorts of myths.

Personally, I lean away from that reading because the game actually doesn’t seem to use very much in the way of Japanese yokai myths. I dug deep trying to drawn comparisons for each of the ghosts, but they were loose at best. There seems much more evidence that the ghosts are, as the name implies, actual ghosts of humans who died here, rather than spiritual entities.

And if that’s the case, it begs the question: Who was Mr. Gap? How did he die? Why does he haunt rather than move on into the afterlife?

I feel that the imagery of his character makes the answers obvious. The game takes place in an apartment building where Mr. Gap lives in the walls. I think that’s a direct reference to his life before death.

I theorize that when the apartment was inhabited, Mr. Gap was a man who crept through crawlspaces and inside of walls in order to spy on women. I believe it can be interpreted that he also lured, abused, and killed those women.

“Mighty hefty accusations, Wren. Where’s your proof?”

No proof, only evidence from my own interpretation to support the claims! I'm sure there are plenty of other ways to interpret his character, this is just mine!

Exhibit A - Living in the walls. Again, this seems the most obvious and on-the-nose point. He quite literally lives in the walls and is bound to spaces with gaps. But he also has an apparently innate ability to navigate the ghost apartments no matter how much it shift and changes. This could allude to how he had the internal structure of the apartment building perfectly mapped when he was alive.

More importantly, he only makes himself seen through holes in the walls and gaps like vents. And we know he’s watching us at all times from those very gaps. This is a direct reference to him being a peeping Tom. Even the other ghosts seem to recognize this, as we can get a humorous scene of Mr. Silvair taping up a hole in the wall so that Mr. Gap can’t look inside.

Exhibit B - Self Awareness. This is the most fascinating aspect of Mr. Gap, in my opinion. Most of the ghosts we meet seem fragmented or confused. If they know what they are, or were, they don’t show it. They seem to understand that there’s an “other” place, but not really the distinction between life and death.

Mr. Gap, however, outright knows and brags about being a ghost. At one point, he shows us old newspaper clippings with a photo of three women with censored faces standing in front of the apartment building, with Mr. Gap in a window behind them.

He can, and does, travel between realms. I assume this is possible because he’s bound to spaces within the apartment, but not specifically spaces in the spirit realm. The apartment is his cage, not the spirit realm itself. Because of this, he’s perfectly capable of peering out at modern day strangers walking by on the street and in the alleys. Also perfectly capable of haunting the old building and keeping its property value at a hearty zero.

But what does self awareness have to do with him being a criminal stalker and killer? Well, I think that he’s afforded these sort of rule-breaking abilities for one main reason, which brings me to…

Exhibit C - He’s a psychopath. No, I’m not using the term colloquially. I mean that truly, by definition, Mr. Gap is a psychopath. To be more accurate, by today’s definitions in the DSM-5, he would have Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD), characterized by a lack of empathy, disregard for others, and deceitfulness (*ASPD is more complex than this, please do not take this as a statement on the disorder which is characterized by much more than these three things).

If this seems like a stretch, I invite you to look at the three endings you can get at a particular point in the game, all involving Mr. Gap.

In this unfortunate decision path, we manage to escape the Ghost Apartments. However, by this points we’re too far gone to be able to live among normal society. Not only has our memory been warped by the ghost realm, but our body is unrecognizable and grotesquely inhuman. We know this based on the reaction of the first person we ask for directions. He panics at the sight of us and flees. We are, for all intents and purposes, the rotting Michael Afton parading about as a normal human while looking like a decaying zombie.

At this point there’s only one person left who can help us. Mr. Gap. Since he’s the only one who can cross between worlds. But even at our darkest and most vulnerable moment, is he going to help out of the kindness of his heart? No, of course not! In fact, he takes it as the perfect opportunity to ask for our heart again, the same way he did the very first time we spoke to him.

We have three options. 1, give him our heart. As expected, the ending is the same as the beginning. He kills us and eats our heart. 2, refuse to give him our heart. He’s disappointed, but leaves us alone. We wander down the alley but don’t get far before we pass out. And then…Mr. Gap takes our unconscious body and, wouldn’t you know it, eats us anyway.

In the third option, we give him someone else’s heart. We kill a random person and deliver their heart to Mr. Gap instead. He’s not exactly pleased but he did make a deal to bring us back, so he reluctantly drags us back into the apartment.

Sadly, while Mr. Gap is able to cross realms at will, he can’t bring us across. Instead, it seems he just brings us inside of the abandoned apartment. We don’t fully understand this though, which seems deceptive on his part. Sure, yes, he brought us back as promised. But not to where we wanted to be.

Now, it’s just us and Mr. Gap. Of course, he keeps begging for body parts. Except now, we have the chance to ask him why. The question…confuses him, even seems to irritate him. “Why?” What reason does there need to be besides that it’s fun?

Honestly, this interaction was bone-chilling to me. By no stretch of the imagination does Mr. Gap view us as anything more than a shiny toy (that was how I felt about it here at least).

I believe it’s this callousness that acts as his superpower. Unlike the other ghosts, he doesn’t have any emotional attachments preventing him from moving on to the afterlife. There’s no particularly strong thing keeping him here. He’s not repenting (Mr. Hood), he’s not in a cycle of suffering (Ms. Blue-Clad/Mr. Chopped), he’s not obsessively invested in his life’s purpose (Mr. Silvair). He’s just. Having fun.

I think this is a carry-over from when he was alive. He had no particular reason for stalking and killing beyond the fact that it was fun for him.

Because of this, he’s not trapped in the same way as the other ghosts. He’s actually quite content to cross between realms and peep at women who wander by. And if he’s real lucky, someone will get close enough to snatch.

Exhibit D - The Newspaper Clippings. What’s so special about them apart from the clear fact that he’s bragging about being a ghost? Well…I don’t think that’s all that he was bragging about. This old clipping includes a picture of three women with censored faces standing in front of the apartment. Victims, perhaps? It’s quite common for serial killers to keep trophies or memorabilia of their kills. Taking newspaper clippings reporting on the crime is actually a big one.

Exhibit E - Cannibalism. Now this, I believe, could be either literal or metaphorical, or a combination of both. When he was prowling and murdering women, did he actually eat them as well? Maybe. Or maybe the afterlife cannibalism is metaphorical, depicting him as a predator, with us as prey. The symbolism of flesh eating is violating, as well, and his biggest interest is in eating our heart. This could line up with a common delusion among stalkers, in which they believe the object of their delusions is in love with them.

Exhibit F - Sexual Assault. You may think this is a stretch and it’s bad enough that he could have been a serial killer and I’d agree with you. But I really think there’s enough here to at least suggest that he included sexual assault in his modus operandi. For one thing, he was a peeping tom, unquestionably. That’s the whole point of the holes and gaps that he peeks out of. This suggests sexual motivation for his actions. Then, there’s the possible symbolism of cannibalism meaning that he’s a predator. And, as also stated, when he brags about being spotted as a ghost, it’s on a newspaper clipping with only women, which lends credence to the idea that he stalked and spied on them specifically.

And lastly, the biggest evidence I have towards this point is in the Return Ending. At the very end, he makes his finally appearance under our sheets. This imagery feels intentional and deliberate. We lift the sheets and see him essentially between our legs. We dismiss him as being a prankster, and this ending concludes with him suddenly lunging from under the blankets with a wicked grin and hands outstretched to presumably harm us.

And that’s it. Fade to black.

To me, this reads obviously as a reference to assault. The stalker is in our bed, between our legs, and leaps to violently harm us.

We know that Mr. Gap doesn’t have a body, only arms and a face. So, this action appears to be simply a reflection of the actions he performed when he was alive. OR there’s also the possibility that he lied to us, and he does, in fact, have a body. I wouldn’t put it past him.

So, is it possible that Mr. Gap really is a reflection of some of the worst parts of humanity? Maybe. Or maybe he does love us, or he is just a mischievous yokai. I like the thought that he's a monster who gets away with it because everyone views him as an irritation rather than a real threat. Even if I'm way off base, he's still a totally fascinating character due to his uniqueness among the other present entities.

Honestly, serial killer or not, who would say no to a face like this?

#homicipher theory #homicipher #mr gap #mr gap homicipher #homicipher spoilers #game theory #character theory #homicipher game #dark topics #content warning

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hawkinsschoolcounselor · 19 hours ago

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Could Mike’s upbringing in a seemingly emotionally distant family environment contribute to any psychological tendencies, such as attachment issues or a need to "prove" himself to others?

I really like the analysis and the fact that you use your psychological knowledge to analyze Mike and I would be very interested in your answers to my questions. :)

Oh, Mike definitely has some attachment issues that likely stem from his upbringing. I wrote about it here, if you haven't read it already.

Mike feels a need to perform, to fit into a role that he feels makes him worth others' love. This could come from a internalized sense that his true self is undeserving.

This is by no means a slam dunk analysis, of course. While Ted has always been portrayed as emotionally distant, we don't know how he was back when Mike was born. We do see moments where he bonds with Holly, so it is possible that it was the same when Nancy and Mike were little, too. Karen also seems to have always been a loving, doting mother, even if she never seemed to be able to connect with her children as they got older.

I start to wonder if maybe the Wheeler children's issues start later in life. Holly does seem more or less happy. This surely comes in part due to her ignorance of everything, but that goes hand in hand with her worldview being mostly confined to her own immediate environment. Unlike Mike and Nancy, and their parents before them, Holly has yet to feel any societal pressures to conform beyond those set down by her parents (and she has no real reason to push back against them).

Mike is and always has been an outcast. That may have been somewhat acceptable when he was little, but, as he got older, there were pressures to be more masculine. We don't see this explicitly in his story, but there are elements there. His bully is very physically aggressive, and the surprise on Lucas and Dustin's faces suggest Mike never fought back before. Karen makes him pack away and donate his toys, something he chafes against. Ted uses sports metaphors when disciplining Mike that fail to resonate with him.

However, there are hints that Mike admires these features. His own chosen D&D identity is that of the paladin, the knight in shining armor. Paladins are strong, courageous, and charismatic. They stand up for the downtrodden and smite evil, even at risk of their own well-being. This is Mike's ideal self, and he's willing to go into it whole hog. We know from the original show pitch that Mike uses D&D as an escape. He uses it to be someone he wishes he could be in real life. If we go back to the bullying example, what did it take for Mike to finally fight back? Someone was insulting Will, someone who would have torn Mike apart if El weren't there. In fact, later on, Mike jumped off a cliff at the same bully's ultimatum in order to save Dustin.

While I do think Mike has a self-esteem issue, it could also be a matter of him holding others' well-being above his own. It's the classic hero complex. Mike can't resist the opportunity to save others because he sees the inherent goodness in doing so, much like a classic paladin would. He's Lawful Good, through and through (though he probably leans more towards the Good than the Lawful). He may have only taken El in because he thought she could help him find Will, but he still gave her shelter for the night, regardless, because that's the sort of person he is.

Mike wants to be good. The problem is that he doesn't see how he can do good without acts of heroism. Will didn't fall in love with Mike because of his heroics. Will fell in love with plain old Mike. This is the season 5 story element that I want to see most. I need Mike to learn that he doesn't need to be playing a role in order to earn love. He just needs to be Mike. He spends nearly all of season 3 and all his time in California before El leaves playing a role, and it causes friction in his relationships. However, his role was twisted from his ideal of a paladin to that of someone who is "cool" or "manly"(from a teenager's perspective). When he takes off this mask, when he's alone with Will, we see the real Mike again, the one who we saw before he left for California. Somewhere along the line, Mike decided that what El wants him to be (or what he thinks El wants him to be) is more important than who he really is. We'll have to see where things go from here, because Mike wasn't really able to help El by playing a role. It, in fact, harmed her.

The trouble with psychoanalyzing fictional characters with any real accuracy is that it presumes they were written with these concepts in mind. I'd wager most of the writers have not studied psychology in enough depth to do so. Still, it's a fun exercise that still has some likelihood to be accurate if the writers tried to write the characters with any consistency and realism.

#byler #stranger things 5

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riversenchanted · 2 days ago

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PLUTO IN AQUARIUS: UTOPIA OR DYSTOPIA

Many posts I see about Pluto are either dystopian or utopian.

Some are quick to point out that Pluto (power) in Aquarius (sign of the people) signifies mass control and devastations faced by large numbers of people, which I don’t deny at all.

But there’s the other side of the coin as well in which the collective is tired of being pushed around with some even hitting rock bottom, and are now ready to dismantle the old paradigm to move on to something else or even build something new in response.

Pluto in Aquarius at best is the story of the underdogs discovering and utilizing their power after being relentlessly tormented.

With Pluto involved, we first encounter grim conditions that we can no longer tolerate. And then we become ready to knock it down in order to create or emerge in another sphere that is more ideal.

You cannot have one without the other in a world of polarity. And Pluto highlights this polarity.

Once you come to terms with this, you can work with Pluto and even fall in love with him.

You can go into a dark basement even if it’s scary, and face your fears and look them in the eye and even make room for your fears to exist while taking action.

It’s like when Dorothy and her friends discover who the Wizard of Oz truly is.

Behind the curtains, he is an ordinary individual using tricks and illusions to appear more intimidating than he really is.

This brings me to what’s happening now…

None of the tech giants and heads of state who seem to have colossal influence are as powerful as they appear.

They may issue draconian measures to control and wreak havoc on the masses and gaslight them in the process.

But such measures also backfire.

Just like with the recent TikTok ban in the U.S. (which has now been reversed), which drove millions of people to RedNote (a Chinese social media platform similar to TikTok) where Western users are now discovering (sometimes in awe) a new world they didn’t know existed.

It’s interesting that on the same week when RedNote became the most downloaded app (just days before the ban), Meta shares took a plunge.

It was then when Zuckerberg issued a statement that he will get rid of fact-checkers and introduce community notes instead.

The panic on his face when he made this statement was hard to ignore.

Also, many members of congress who voted for the ban invested in Meta stocks, prior to the ban.

One of the justifications for the ban was that the magnitude of data the app collected posed a national security threat.

After digging deeper, I’m finding out that apparently Meta collects more data than TikTok.

These are not topics that are reported in mainstream media.

With Uranus (freedom, cutting-edge technology) ingressing into Gemini (sign of communications) this year on 7 Jul 2025 (GMT), I expect a plethora of social media apps to emerge.

Uranus, the modern ruler of Aquarius, upholds freedom to be of utmost importance.

My prediction is that many of the upcoming social media platforms will respect people’s privacy a lot more and will not censor people’s voices as much, especially as we move closer to the Uranus-Pluto trine (lucky aspect) which will be exact next year.

Another topic not being covered in mainstream media is that Kansas (along with a number of other states in the U.S.) filed a civil suit against one of the most well-known pharmaceutical companies (you all know the name) for misleading the public and using deceptive marketing during the pandemic.

The point I’m trying to make is that actions are being taken to hold powerful companies and forces (that seemed invincible) accountable – this is the other side of the coin of Pluto (power) in empowering the collective (Aquarius).

Just because we don’t see these headlines in mainstream news outlets doesn’t mean that such countermeasures don’t exist.

The more we become aware of people standing up for the underdog and mobilizing themselves (including the underdogs themselves) to take action, the more we can empower ourselves with Pluto in Aquarius.

#astrology #psychic #witchcraft #tarot #free palestine #birth chart #art #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarotcommunity #pluto in aquarius #aquarius #astrology observations #astrologyblr #astro community #astrologer #astrology community #astroblr #astro observations

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ravenclaws-stuff · 3 days ago

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Draco Malfoy x Greengrassreader

Tags: fluff, Draco in the hospital, time lapse, mention of childbirth

First Kiss:

Laughter echoed across Malfoy's quidditch pitch. All the children, Greengrass, Nott, Goyle, and Crabbe flew around as the parents sat under the gazebo. A loud scream pierces from the field as I fall from my broom. I crash onto the ground with a loud snap. I cry out in pain as I hold onto my arm.

A thump sounded from behind me as Draco tossed his broom onto the ground. He rushes over to me, sliding across the grass. I sniff, wiping the tears off my cheek. "What happened?" He asked, grey eyes searching mine. I shrug. "I lost control. I'm..I'm sorry." He shakes his head. "Don't apologize." I nod. "Let me see." He gently holds my arm. "Broken." I nod, a fresh set of tears rolling down my cheek. Mum calls for me, panic obvious in her voice.

Draco leans down and places a soft kiss on my arm, carefully not to jostle or cause any more pain. "There. A kiss to make it better."

---

Second Kiss(Fourth Year):

The common room was quiet as I led Draco into the Ravenclaw tower. He looks around, spinning the giant globe. "So this is what the bird's nest looks like." I roll my eyes. "Can't believe you never brought me up here before." He says, stopping next to me.

We both look at the giant statue of the founder Rowena Ravenclaw, in silence. "Thank you for tonight." I break the silence, turning to looking at him. Draco was handsome, always was, but maybe moreso in his dress robes. He grins, pushing a stray hair behind my ear. "It was a pleasure. I really should be thanking you for agreeing to come with me. Without you, I am certain my father would have forced me to go with Parkinson." We share a laugh, knowing how much Pansy drooled over him. It was a small reason why I did agree to go with him. The other reason was purely selfish.

Draco reaches out, grabbing my hand. Raising my hand to his lips, he presses a soft kiss to my knuckles. "Good night angel." I watch as the door closes, our eyes never leaving the other. Something changed between us tonight as we danced. It was shimmering, almost bubbling over. I trace my knuckles, where his lips were, still feeling warm. "Good night Draco."

---

Third Kiss(Sixth Year):

I raced to the hospital wing. Theo and Daphne found me in the library, informing me that Draco was admitted earlier this evening. The paleness in Theo's normally vibrant face was enough for me to leave everything in the library and run to him.

I throw open the door, eyes searching frantically for him. "Mrs Greengrass." Madam Pomfrey scolded me, but I ignored her. I had to find him. My heart raced as I finally found him asleep I'm the bed closest to the matron's office. "He's going to be alright dear. Just needs some rest." She places a comforting on my shoulder. I nod, her words reassuring me. He's going to be fine.

"May I stay until he wakes up?" She looks between Draco and I before nodding. "UntilS curfew, then you will have to leave." I thank her before scooting the chair closer to the bed. Tears pool in the corner of my eyes. "Oh Draco." I run my hand through his tangled hair. He's going to be upset about that when he wakes up.

I lay my head on his arm, placing my fingers between his. "I'm here, Draco." I whisper. Whatever was building between us has been put on hold. With the war coming, I couldn't force Draco into a position like that right now. He has enough on his plate.

"Angel?" Draco groans, turning his head towards me. I smile at the nickname. "Yeah, it's me Draco." He opens his eyes, a small smile on his face. "What...what are you doing here? Are you alright?" I roll my eyes, squeezing his hand. "Heard you were in here. Had to make sure you were alright." He nods, squeezing my hand before closing his eyes. We sit in silence, comforting each other.

"I almost died." I freeze. The fear in his voice is so raw. How? What? But Madam Pomfrey said. "If it weren't for Snape, I would have never made it out of the bathroom." I push back the tears. I need to be strong. For Draco. "What happened?" My voice shakes. He squeezes my hand. "Saint Potter -"

"Mrs Greengrass curfew is soon." Madam Pomfrey calls from her office, interrupting our conversation. I nod, standing up. "I'll be here first thing in the morning." Draco tries to sit up, the blanket falling down his bare chest. My heart shatters at the red angry scars running down his chest. "Lay down Draco." I prop him on his pillows. I place a lingering kiss on his forehead.

"Rest or else, I won't sneak you a pumpkin pastry in the morning." He rolls his eyes, but lays back down. "You're so bossy." I chuckle, running a hand through his hair. "You know you love me." He squeezes my hand. "Go before you get detention." I nod, wishing i could crawl into bed next to him.

I wish Madam Pomfrey goodnight before looking at Draco one last time. He winks as I walk out the door. As I walk down the hallway, I know two things. First, Potter is the reason Draco is in the hospital wing. Saint Potter better watch his back. Second, Draco never denied that he loves me.

---

Fourth kiss(Battle of Hogwarts):

It was over. They won. The Dark Lord is gone. My eyes scan over the destroyed battlefield that once used to be our safe space. I search frantically for the blonde hair I love to run my fingers through. I frowned, panic starting to set in.

Lovegood, Cissa, but no Draco. Where was he? I clutch my chest as tears start to build up. 'Please don't be gone.'

"Angel!" I turn, tears now rolling down my cheek. He was alive. My feet start to move before my brain can even think. "Draco!" I jump into his arms, causing the both of us to fall to the ground. "It's over Draco. It's-" He smashes his lips against mine. I swear in surprise. This wasn't our first kiss but Draco usually hates PDA. Leaning in, I poured everything I felt into the kiss.

Every ounce of love, happiness, fear, sadness into this kiss.

I pull back, resting my forehead against his. I blush as someone whistles being his, probably Blaise. Draco reaches up, cupping the back of my neck. His gray eyes shine with relief, happiness, and something else. "I love you Angel." He whispers. I giggle, placing small kisses across his face. He laughs loudly as I place one last one to his lips. "I love you too, Draco."

---

Fifth Kiss:

I lean against the bed, sweat dripping down my face. The cries of our new born baby boy fill the room. You know for all that magic can do, it would be nice if someone could create a spell to make childbirth easier.

My eyes meet Draco's across the room. He smiles brighter than I've ever seen before. I attempt to return the smile, but I am so tired. The mediwitch brings our baby to me, laying him across my chest. "Name for the handsome lad?" I look up at my husband and nod. We discussed this endlessly and finally decided on one. "Scorpius Theodore Malfoy." The mediwitch smiles and leaves the room.

Draco sits beside me on the bed. "You did such a great job, angel." I hum, leaning my head on his shoulder. He kisses the side of my head. "So proud of you." I look up. "Thank you Dray. I couldn't have done it without you." He quickly places a kiss on my lips. "I love you."

Scorpius, at the moment, starts to cry. I laugh quietly. "Are you hungry, little star?" I coo, laying him to feed. "I love you Scorpius." Draco chuckles, caressing the pale hair that mirrors his own. I look between my two boys.

Perfect.

#draco malfoy #harry potter #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #5 times #kisses

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charmac · 10 hours ago

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than copy-paste my ask w/out the stuff about his acting bc the rest of the stuff i said is still completly valid. i don't get why stans refuse to even admit that their fav is some times a bad person and call them out on their bullshit. you can still like him without ignoring or excusing his shitty behavoir

"not trying to start anything i really want to hear your and other ppls opinions. after seeing that redit video today abt the onset fight combined with other stuff glenn has said and done like the antivax stuff. im starting to really dislike glenn. he acts like a self obsessed tool all the time but so many stans baby him so much that they refuse to see or say anything about it [deleted] but maybe you or others have reasons to stan him pls share bc im clearly missing somthing. i dont want to not like him but hes making it very hard"

(the Reddit video being Rob talking about how Glenn freaked out during the filming of The Gang Saves the Day because he didn't feel comfortable getting "shot" in the scene with Dee killing all of them and threw a tantrum on set)

First of all, I don't think anyone refuses to admit Glenn is anything but perfect, and I also don't think anyone excuses his "shitty behaviour," but while you only may have just become aware of this moment, it was first brought to light in 2017, right before Glenn left the show "for good" and has kinda been hashed to death. If you're genuinely asking 'why is no one talking about Glenn's temper tantrums from 8+ years ago,' idk how to answer that question other than: why would we be? It's just not relevant

We know, from set stories and Glenn himself, that Glenn has gone through many ups and downs on the set of Sunny. He's spoken quite a bit about how his attitude has ruined the vibe and created a lot of tension in the writers room and on set before, and it's something he needed Rob to bring to his attention in Season 11 because he couldn't recognise it harmed other people (and that's what led him to realise he needed to walk away). I think it's not, like, a hidden or dismissed aspect of his personality that he's a diva, even today after righting his attitude and returning, he still tends to "method act" to a degree when he's playing Dennis and comes off a certain way

So yes, he's been "exposed" as a brat on set and a little entitled in general, and he's got some questionable views on health, for sure and I think that can make you dislike him and if that's so...that's fine. I don't think anyone in this fandom cares if you do or don't, honestly, but that works both ways.

People who post about Glenn in fond ways aren't going to disclose that they know he's entitled and centrist every time they post anything about him, but whenever something does happen/come out, people do criticise it in the moment. The Podcast brought a lot to light and it seemed like weekly we were scrutinizing something RCG said but, like, there's genuinely nothing Glenn has done in the past year that the fandom has chosen to ignore for the sake of excusing his shitty behaviour...? Are we supposed to rehash dead and buried RCG drama just because it was reposted to a different platform?

I get if you're just learning about him as a person now it can be weird to see most people who are actively talking about him seem to just be stanning him blindly, but that's really not true. The TASP days are just behind us, and Glenn's PR is very strong with his gay whiskey tour front and center (and you're asking me lol).

As to providing you with reasons for stanning him... just search "Glenn Howerton Interview" on Youtube.. or watch this one .. and if you don't get it, you probably just don't like him and that's fine, lol he'll probably get you eventually if you're around long enough

#i think its funny when i get asks like this lowkey like #what about me meeting him a dozen times makes you tihnk im gonna give an unbiased opinion #i mean. ill TRY #but you know once you're like. physically in his presence. and he smiles at you with that vampire grin. its game over.#glenn howerton does shots with you at nyc pride what are you gonna do.. say no? youre a bit of a cunt?#thats the appeal baby #call my body mind and soul bewitched #also yk. the fact that hes the queer one helps over here lol #ask #glenn howerton #discourse #ig idk

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auguryofjellyfish · 2 days ago

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You talked a bit about some of the episodes yesterday but what did you think of [Flat Rejection]

oh boy, that's an interesting one.

first point I want to get out of the way: I think the way Mai is acting is a little immature. not unreasonable, there's a difference. but I, personally, will never condone ignoring someone and avoiding them if it's not absolutely necessary to protect yourself, because that can completely destroy people mentally.

Yanagi was kind of an ass in the trial in general…I think the worst he did was harping on Watari for doing damage to her room and not getting punished, that was COMPLETELY unnecessary and very ungentlemanly of him. at least Watari doesn't seem to hold it against him.

but other than that, his intentions towards Mai were good. he WAS right about her being too reckless. before she was abducted, he was very deferential and cautious with her, almost demure with his suggestions. all in all trying to be respectful. he was warning her repeatedly to stop damaging the door, pleading with her, trying to get her to see reason, and she didn't listen. then… she disappeared, and came back unconscious, bloody, and bruised black.

…what else was he supposed to feel, than that it was HIS fault this happened? because he didn't try hard enough to protect her?

he was trying to take her opinions, her strength, her independence into account, and look where that got her. no matter what, he's going to feel responsible, he needs to help people, he can't just be a bystander. he NEEDS to protect those who he feels need protecting. even if it's from themselves. I understand his point of view. he can't just leave people be, he can't let injustice stand, he won't turn his eyes away from people getting harmed. he's proactive. and most importantly… he really, really cares about Mai specifically.

now, Mai. Mai is incredibly strong, physically and mentally. she can take care of herself, she takes care of others. she is fiercely independent. but she's not made of stone. she's not unshakeable. there was a time when she was weak. when she was scared. when all she cared about was survival above all else. and she hated it, not being in control, of herself, of her actions, of her own fate, and she never, ever wants to feel like that again. and it's like…who the fuck does YANAGI think he is? to butt into HER life and HER decisions like that? to her, he has 0 reason to do that. it makes no sense because she doesn't need protection. she doesn't need a knight in shining armour, what the hell? it feels like Yanagi is undermining the strength she's been working so hard to cultivate. which is incredibly insulting. she can handle herself. …but she can't. not 100% of the time. Mai was so, so shaken after she came back from being tortured. she was scared. she was made completely powerless. she collected herself eventually. rested, gathered her strength again, because life goes on. because it was horrible, but it wasn't her first time. she can't just break apart here, that's not who she is. she has to keep moving forward.

…but Yanagi saw Mai's tears. he saw her break down. he heard her cries. and he didn't forget it. the sight was seared into his brain. he never, ever wanted for something like that to happen again.

…and here we are. yes- he was being controlling. Yanagi is a very, very passionate person, and the terror he felt when he saw her disappear, and the heartbreak from when he saw her cry from pain and fear- it was too much. it still doesn't mean his behaviour was appropriate. just understandable.

what he did was wrong. but let's circle back to my first point- Mai ignoring him. I really dislike that. she has every right to be angry with him, but this is childish. and borderline cruel….she should at least hear him out, one last time. let him say his piece, and then decide whether to thwack him over the head and tell him to fuck off forever or not.

being in this sort of limbo is extremely bad for Yanagi's mental state. stuck ruminating on his own thoughts, he has to supply his own reasoning because he doesn't know hers. he thinks that his behaviour was threatening instead of invasive, which isn't true. and now he's spiraling, wondering if he's destined to hurt people like his (grand)father, if he is even capable of treating them right, capable of care.

and of course he is! Yanagi is NOT his father. he has bad tendencies, but he knows he acted rashly and on his emotion. most of the time he's doing his best to care about other people's comfort and wellbeing. his hot-headedness pushed him to make huge mistakes, like the ice fairy incident and trying to control Mai, but that's not who he is. he is not cruel, violent, and selfish. he has flaws, he's had bad examples, and he hurt people, a lot, but he's not irredeemable.

and just like Wada said- this is a high-stress situation. this environment is designed to break them, to push them to the brink. to kill them. and he doesn't want her to DIE. his reaction was that of a well-meaning, but overprotective parent, who saw his child get bit by a dog a bit too hard, and got so frightened he tried to bundle her up in bubble wrap.

still patronizing, but it doesn't mean he's a MONSTER, an abuser. and he's not destined to be one.

but as long as this silence persists, he will continue to invent his own arguments, which will make sense to him, but will be blown completely out of proportion because he feels HORRIBLE, and he needs to self-flaggelate as a way to punish himself.

anyway. they need to talk.

#tetro danganronpa pink #thank you for the ask :3 #yanagi shigeki #hayashi mai

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sly-s-n0nfusion · 3 days ago

Text

Sly's personal ✨Octopath rankings✨

So I've been into Octopath since the year it came out as a franchise basically and I recently finished the second game so I felt like ranking both games' characters and stories based on my likings. Remember that all opinions are valid and if I didn't enjoy your favorite character or story as much as you did it's fine :) also, there aren’t characters or stories I actually disliked with two exceptions so I’m mostly being kind- but honest.

May do spoilers so I'll put them under a cut

Ot1

Stories

Olberic - His story has to be my favorite because of its impeccably functional structure and climax. I am a sucker for redemption stories and I think they nailed every chapter of it. They even made me like the arena chapter even though I'm not a fan of tournament arcs. It's a very well-executed emotional story and it had me hooked since the beginning (also loving the “plot twist” that his final chapter boss is NOT Erhardt, which is what everyone is expecting since chapter 1)

Cyrus - A compelling mystery story with some plot twist I liked and actually interesting pieces of lore in it. What I liked the most about it (if we ignore Therese's blatant deus ex machina moment in his ch3) is that you can't really tell what will happen when you go into one of his chapters. Also has probably the best ch4 with some of the rawest lines ever against Lucia

Alfyn - Loved his chapter 3 to death because of the moral ambiguity and also has one of the best side characters (Ogen). Golden boy has to doubt everything he knew in his life and I love that. Has kind of a slow start though

Ophilia - While I think ch2 could be executed much better and made less boring, the circular structure and moral of her story is amazing. The emotional ch4 almost made me tear up

H'aanit - Cute interpretation of a "pupil has to find his mentor" story and has some epic moments like chapter 3. Not much more than that but it was still really enjoyable (bonus mention for Susanna, one of the best npcs)

Primrose - Kinda compelling revenge tale, except that it ends in the most unsatisfying way possible. Has some nice ideas but I felt so empty and broken at the end of her ch4 because she too is empty and broken

Tressa - Not a fan of the "coming of age stories" but I enjoyed her rivalry with Ali and her friendship with Noa, as well as Leon's backstory. No hate, just the more lighthearted stories are not really my cup of tea. Apart from those, it found it pretty boring and probably has the most anticlimactic final boss ever

Therion - The one story I really didn't like because of... many reasons. Like, it really had potential with the whole Dragonstones thing and everything but they executed it in the worst way possible. Also I hate how they tried to make him trust people again thanks to some questionable people like Cordelia and Heathcote... it just didn't feel right and left me asking myself but why though so many times

Characters

Cyrus - I do love every high intelligence - low wisdom character, bonus of they're a dork and kind of naive. Could write a whole essay about him so just know he won my heart he’s been my blorbo for what 3 years now? Almost 4

Olberic - Another trope I love is grumpy and probably depressed characters who just have a heart of gold inside and use their strength to protect the people they love so there you have it. They did a great job of delivering the emotional baggage in his internal monologues

Ophilia - I love how her character gravitates around the concept of love, loss and family. She's so dear to me

H'aanit - I like her view of the world and her stoic personality but I must say that for a main character, her introspective side could've been explored more

Alfyn - Sunshine boy who feels too much. I do like men who are not afraid of crying in front of others

Therion - a bit of a lone wolf stereotype- but I like his dry and sarcastic attitude when he talks to the other members of the party

Tressa - I like that she's a bit hot-headed and I like her enthusiasm. Definitely a character who shines more when she's with other characters though

Primrose - I think they messed up a bit with her characterization sadly because I can't really tell how the real Primrose is supposed to be even after ch4. She's often portrayed as an overly-flirty femme fatale even though it's probably trauma response and often says some... questionable things to the other members of the party in her travel banters, it's hard to get her true personality right. When she's angry, she kinda comes off as cold and distant, too. I think the writers could've done a better job with her

Ot2

Stories

Castti - Hands down the best Octopath Traveler main story ever imo. It was perfect from how the emotions were delivered to the compelling plot, to the climax in her chapter 3 and the bittersweet ending in her chapter 4. So heartbreaking and has a great attention to details, as well as amazing side characters. Perfect under every aspect and I loved the “horror rpg” vibe to it

Osvald - Amazing revenge tale (and kinda mimicking The Count of Montecristo), much more effective than Primrose's and also more heartbreaking and with an ending that's a bit more satisfying (even if the last chapter is definitely the weakest one and could've been handled better for such a good story). Cool plot twists at the right times an a villain that's actually Rotten to the Core (if we ignore the ridiculous laugh Harvey has). His chapter 1 was probably the best Octopath Traveler chapter 1 narration-wise and had me almost crying at his chapter 4 boss

Throné - I wasn't expecting her story to be this good in the slightest but the "getting out of the mafia" tale is well-executed and has some nice side plots for its side characters, as well as some quite shocking twists near the end. Her chapter 1 is also super good and has some pretty good dialogues.

Temenos - I have mixed feelings towards this one because it had so much potential but it definitely needed more time to be done correctly. The mystery plot feels kinda rushed at times (especially in chapter 3 because I think that one is kind of a narrative mess like why is everything happening SO QUICKLY) and one fatal flaw: Kaldena's backstory not being addressed well enough. She is really a character who needed to pop out more in his story. In the end it's probably a matter of pacing but it does have some real big wasted potential. Also another story that like Primrose's leaves you with a really bitter aftertaste except this time it's actually fitting for Temenos' character

Ochette - .....I'm sorry guys this story is literally Pokemon Ruby and Sapphire for a good 70% of it. Which doesn’t make it necessarily the worst story but it’s not original either. What I liked though is that it has some real good first and final chapters that got me kind of emotional and also kinda creeped me out. The side "anti-racism plot" could've been articulated better narratively but that's what we got in the end so. Also big wasted potential.

Hikari - I am not a fan of stories in which by chapter 1 you already know how they're going to end and Hikari's was exactly like this. I quite enjoyed the arena chapter and the chapter in Stormhail as well, and some parts of it were very cinematic. Not much more than that

Partitio - DISCLAIMER for the next 2 stories: again, I am not a fan of lighthearted stories because of personal taste, nothing else. I want the drama lol. This is why this one was not my cup of tea. I liked the narrative pace of chapter 1 but after that one it just kinda goes a little overboard with the crazyness idk it felt kinda weird to have a bulldog, a jobless guy and a train as bosses. What I loved were the "scent of commerce" side-stories though because it was really fitting to the time period the game is set in to have the merchant traveler interested in financing new inventions and machines. Also not that compelling overall

Agnea - Guys I'm sorry but this one was a big no for me. Legit had me really bored most of the time (especially didn't like the musical parts and her dialogues-only chapter 3 oh god) and never really got me hooked. I liked how cinematic her final boss battle was though and big w for the lesbians in her story I guess

Characters

Castti - Loved her caring, yet sarcastic attitude. She was such a fun and interesting character to be around (if we ignore how many times the travelers insist on calling her “mom” because she is just so much more) and has traits to her that left me quite surprised

Osvald - I love that for once we have a character that's not always nice to the other party members. I like his sharp tongue and atypical behavior, and him going nonverbal at times. A really interesting take on the scholar character I appreciated a lot (also dilfs lover here sorry not sorry)

Temenos - Mixed feelings for Temenos, again, because he does kinda sound like certain anime characters from my childhood but he is a fun character. Sly, snarky, diffident and secretly very broken inside is always a winning combination

Throné - I liked her a lot. I like the contrast between her kind personality and the gruesome job she's forced to do, and that she wants to redeem herself from everything she had to bear since she was a kid. I love her soft side and that she wants to be the good person she is

Partitio - Alfyn, but better. I can say I'm a fan of his over the top humour and attitude and his kind, generous heart

Agnea - Fun girl! I like her bubbly personality and also that she is stubborn and determined. She’s not a deep character but she is still fun

Ochette - I think her character had wasted potential. Even though I agree that she's fun and quirky, they didn't do a great job of portraying her as part of another whole species because they really kinda just made her personality rotate around liking meat. Also didn't really like how unnecessarily infantilized she was rip but she is still cute and fun

Hikari - .......Hikari likers I'm sorry. Oomfs who are Hikari likers if you’re reading this just know that I think your tastes are valid and I'm the one in the minority because everyone loves Hikari, so sorry for what I'm about to say but he kinda was what ruined his own story for me, as well as being the only traveler I actually dislike. I didn't like his teeth-rotting sweet dialogues and his whole character rotating around the concept of friendship. I didn't like that his one (1) flaw is him being possessed by a demon because of his cursed blood. He's too perfect. Therefore to me he's too uninteresting. Sorry!

Peace ✌️

#octopath traveler #octopath traveler 2 #sly rambles #these are just my personal thoughts #please don’t get offended by the Hikari bashing I know he is Loved #and it’s fine!#said that. I love both games to death

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