#so you can know (again only Some of) my Actual thoughts on why i dislike v3

[thecorefrisk]

Here are some ideas for some other kind of ‘reader’ characters that you can do other than a neglected reader for yandere or non-yandere batfam!! Because I can’t just tell you to stop doing something and not give something else to play around with. (Some are nsfw.)

Tw: talks of pseudo-incest, yandere batfam, possessive behavior. This isn’t true for every ‘reader’ but be aware of it.

Retired hero! Reader.

They’re over it. They’re done. (Or, at least that’s what they tell themselves.) They are now just trying to move on with their lives and get used to being ‘normal’ again.

Except a couple of bats keep sniffing around them. Like they already suspect them of a past they left behind.

Babysitter! Reader.

They’re the nanny. Alfred is… old. He can’t take care of everyone and everything by himself. He needs help.

This could have ‘romance’ in it too! (Specifically, yandere-style.)

Damian could learn what it’s like to have someone truly care about him. (And only him.) Add in some ‘they’re paid to be around me and take care of me’ conflict and you have something to gnaw on.

…and maybe one of the others (or multiple members of the batfam) decide that the reader is pretty hot. And that they need to do something about that.

Time traveler! Reader

Bruce met them on his little trip through time and got attached but the reader left before Bruce went back to his timeline. The reader was sad that they had to leave but did so anyways. Because they had to.

And then there is Bruce Wayne. On the big screen. In modern day Gotham.

And there the reader is— reachable, touchable. Bruce isn’t letting them leave this time.

Secret cam girl! Reader.

This one is one I don’t mind seeing the neglected reader trope with. Just a girl who got out of Wayne Manor!! She just had to take off her clothes first.

And maybe someone in the batfam stumbles upon one of her streams. And maybe they don’t know that it’s her. Not at first.

And maybe they find out. But they don’t tell her.

Anyways!! Um, this next one is actually based off one of my dc oc’s lol. (Just thought it would be cool to see more characters like her.)

Victoria De La Cruz! Reader.

Victoria (my oc) is a girl from crime alley who grew up with the knowledge that her mentally ill mother believed that Bruce Wayne was Victoria’s father. Victoria comes to dislike Bruce because of this— not truly because of anything he did but because of what he represented. A rich man who was a fantasy her mother clung to and truly felt was real in the shithole that was Gotham.

Then, she claws her way out. She gets a full-ride scholarship to one of the best schools in Gotham. She becomes captain of the cheerleading time. She starts her own business.

She has, by all definitions, become her ‘father’. In the sense that there is Victoria and then there is ‘Tori’. And that there is Bruce and then there is ‘Brucie’.

Tori is the charming, arrogant girl who came out of nowhere and took Gotham by a storm. She’s the leader, the trend setter. She’s not dumb but she doesn’t exactly walk around with a phd. She’s one of those girls who you love because she’s insane.

Victoria is manipulative. She is cunning. She is ambitious. She knows what she wants and she grabs it by the throat. (She’s desperate to get out of a crumbling city.)

The reader could be like that. Someone who hates Bruce not because of what he did but because of what he represented and what he meant.

And all he does is chase after the love of a daughter who hated him long before she even knew she was actually his kid.

Crossed into the omegaverse! Reader.

A reader who came into this completely different world. And is forced to adapt or die. Their body literally develops those traits. A scent, sharper teeth, animalistic instincts, even a second gender.

And the batfam is just in the corner like, “Why is this pup so weirded out by completely normal things?” Because behavior that makes sense to us would be very concerning to them.

Last but not least!!

Teenage superhero! Reader.

I like this one when the reader doesn’t know the batfam at all and just comes to Gotham one day or they come to get to know the reader through crime fighting.

And it’s just… one misunderstanding after the other. Maybe the batfam thinks the reader is in a relationship with their secret identity. Maybe they think that the reader hates their superhero identity.

[hirasunny]

Unforgotten Vow

pairing — k-drama! yeon sieun x fem! reader

synopsis — you and sieun made one simple promise when you were kids, and you continue to do so as you got older.

warnings/reader notes — mentions bullying, you and sieun r crybabies (in a good way), sunshine reader and sieun absolutely adores it, he thinks you're a goddess, references to season 1 plot

genre — childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, slight angst

word count — 2.5k+ words

note: hi! it's me again <3 i want to thank you for enjoying my fics! i read all of your comments and appreciate it a lot :( it really motivates me to write even though i'm not the best at it. much love u guys ^^ as a thanks, here’s a story dedicated to this precious boy 💛 p.s: should i make a part 2? TT

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Sieun was 7 years old when he met you.

He was celebrating his birthday at the park before he accidentally tripped and scraped his knee.

His mom and dad sat by the picnic table a few feet away from him, yet he moved unnoticed to a nearby bench. He sat down in pain as he tried to stop himself from crying.

But it was unsuccessful, his tears fell on his lap continuously. He had a feeling that his father was going to scold him again.

“Are you okay?”

Your voice was small and chirpy when you went up to him in question, tilting your head while he wiped his face and nodded—he was not one for talking.

However, you spoke again, “Do you need a band aid? I can give you one.” You asked shyly.

Sieun looked at you closely, your clothes dirty from possibly playing a lot, your hair was in decent braids but some strands already sticking out, and your legs were visibly decorated with dirt.

He moved to your face, chubby cheeks and (e/c) eyes that held curiosity in them. The boy didn’t mutter anything but still took the band aid in your offering hand, ripping it open.

You smiled and sat down beside him as you continued to talk with newly found confidence. Sieun didn’t even know what you were saying—was it about the kids at the playground? He wasn’t sure. You were talking too fast and too much.

Nonetheless, he listened.

It felt like an eternity when his mother finally called out for him; she seemed surprise as soon as her eyes landed on them.

���My mom is here.” Sieun stated, having a glance at his parental figure. That was the first time he opened his mouth, you thought. You pouted at him.

“Already? But I was going to invite you to the slide.” You responded, upset. He didn’t talk—but you liked his company. He was the only one who didn’t cut you off from speaking!

Sieun gazed back at you weirdly. Why weren’t you telling him mean things like the other kids do? And you even want to play with him. It puzzled the poor boy.

Then, he noticed your lips change from a frown to a big grin instead. “But you’ll be back right? We can play next time!” You say in excitement, nodding to yourself.

“What’s your name? I’m (Name)!”

He took a long time to process it before he answered, “Sieun.” Honestly, he had no idea why he replied, but maybe it was the way you were determined to make him your friend.

It made him feel normal in some way.

“Sieun..” You repeated slowly, just to get used to the sound of it rolling off your tongue.

A shout of your name stopped him from speaking up, you took a glimpse in that direction with a pout, “It’s my mom! I gotta go.” You huffed, looking at the boy beside you.

“Come back, okay? I’ll be here tomorrow!” You added, giving a wave as you ran to your mother. He stood up, observing you.

He disliked going outside. But if it meant that you were there, it might be bearable.

—

“Sieun! What happened?” You breathed out after running. The boy was sitting alone at the swing as he stared into abyss.

To everyone else, he looked completely fine.

But you knew him—if you stare in his eyes long enough, you would see how much emotion he actually keeps by himself. And right now, you had no doubt that he was going through something heavy.

“Your mom’s really worried, she called and said you weren’t at home.” You inform softly, settling at the swing next to his. The night was quiet, you heard nothing but the sounds of trees brushing against one another and the creaking of your swings.

You got comfortable as you admired the starry sky.

“My parents..” Sieun started, following your gaze. You hummed, an indication that you were listening.

“They’re getting a divorce.”

You raise your eyebrows in shock, looking back at him. “What..?”

He avoided your look, the ground being more interesting than the look on your face. He felt disappointed that you had to see him like this. Again.

Yet you never cared.

The word was quite new to you, it was only recently when you discovered its meaning—though you knew it was more than just a word that hurt Sieun. It meant something to him.

So you placed a hand on his shoulder and peeking your head closer to his, “Hey, it’s gonna be fine. You have me.”

Sieun finally looked at you, his eyes speaking to you more than words could express.

Thank you, they say.

You laughed lightly, ruffling his hair. He hated when people touch his hair, but you? He never minded.

“But if you have to move someplace else..” You rest your hand back on your lap. “Promise me you’ll come back?”

Oh, why were you looking at him like that?

Like you never want him to go?

Sieun’s shoulders eased and his tense look melted as he studied you. Then, he slowly raised his pinky finger. “I promise.” He told you truthfully. You smiled at him, finding the sincerity in his words.

You hooked your pinky with his, “Okay.” You whispered as to not ruin the peaceful moment.

Sieun was 10 years old when he promised you that he’d come back if he ever left someday.

—

Fate jinxed the both of you.

It must’ve laughed for the reason that it was you who had to move away instead of him.

Here you were, crying uncontrollably in front of your best friend at the airport.

“This is so unfair!” You sobbed, violently wiping your tears as Sieun gave you a tissue. He hasn’t said a single word since the ride to the airport. He seemed out of it, you noticed.

On the other hand, this was his first time to skip a few classes. You were surprised when he showed up at your house unannounced. You kept asking him several times if it was okay for him to do such a thing the whole car ride, he would simply nod as he stared at you after, you ignored it out of nervousness.

You never knew that he was memorizing you, because it could be the last time he’d ever see you again.

The star hair clip he gifted you on your birthday was neatly on your hair, the way you bounce your knee rapidly each time you get anxious, your backpack had all sorts of keychains that you buy from school trips with him, and the looks you give him—every smile, every funny face, every pout and cry. He'd remember it all.

Sieun took a mental note of all the little things, like he was studying: because if this test is about you, surely, he'd ace it.

Though, he wasn't the only one who notices, you also recognized a few things. Like his tight grip on the strap of his bag was evident, the slight twitching of his fingers—a habit he does when he’s overthinking, and his brown orbs that look at you to tell you everything you need to know.

He's...wait.

Is he tearing up?

You widen your eyes as he shuffled awkwardly and looked down, trying to maintain his posture.

"You're.." You were hesitant, but you took a step forward, bringing him to your embrace. You heard sniffles on your shoulder as he laid his forehead there while his arms remained by his side. He didn't know where to place them.

"Don't cry, you big baby." You murmur, your tears slipping out for God knows how many times today. "I'm gonna come back, you know that." You assured him. His hands finally moved to your back, gripping your shirt as he nodded.

You two stayed that way for a few minutes before his gaze lingered at you, "Promise me you will." Sieun lowly spoke with trembling lips. You exhaled from your nose, bringing his hand close to your chest as you do the same, then interlocked both of your pinkies.

"I promise you, more than anything."

Sieun was 13 when you left South Korea.

—

Three years had passed by as Sieun faced everything alone.

The problems, the bullying, the guilt—

Suho.

Every step he took felt like he was getting pulled down further and further away from the light he once saw.

From Suho, and most especially from you.

What would you think of him if you knew what was happening in his life right now?

He got his answer when he saw you.

You.

Your figure stood patiently outside his apartment door, a plastic bag containing all the snacks you used to share together was held loosely in one hand and your phone on the other.

Your appearance had completely changed. Your hair grew a bit longer, and the baby fat on your cheeks now reduced. You looked different, but deep down, Sieun hoped you were the still the happy-go-lucky girl he knew.

As you raised your phone to your ear, you check your left. You paused as the phone of the boy you were waiting for rang loudly in the pocket of his jacket.

The two of you stared at one another as the ringing continued, you, however, smiled knowingly at him.

"I kept my promise."

Sieun couldn't believe he could run that fast when he brought you into his arms.

Slowly, the chaos in his mind went silent.

Finally, for once. He was at peace.

Momentarily, he realized he was crying because you had to wipe the tears away, "I know," You still told him in a caring tone. "I'm here."

No other words were needed as you both remained in each other's arms for a while that day.

A few days had gone by rather quickly, and you started to see more of Sieun. He had grown taller since the last time you saw him, his voice was deeper from the timid, high-pitched one you always heard, and his eyes that used to shine at you were now dull as an unsharpened knife.

Regardless, something else had brought your attention—his walls that broke down when you met him was building itself up again. He became distant. The Sieun you cherished was back in his little shell, the one who refused help and locked himself away from people. You knew you had to pull him out.

So you were present, just like before. In every visit at Suho's hospital, you sat beside him when he typed out his messages; in every school he got rejected to, you had a list of backup schools he can apply for; in every night he had nightmares, you were only a call away; in every session at therapy, you were there outside, waiting.

Despite all the hardships and troubles he was facing, you smiled warmly at him.

He never understood any of it. It resembled the times when you were kids. Where you stayed with him more than anyone else.

How can you, someone so beautiful, still smile adoringly at something so broken, with its pieces gradually falling apart?

One time at the bus stop, it was extremely cold when the rain poured heavily around you.

Even as you laughed at a sarcastic comment he made about freezing to death, you still took his cold hands to yours, blowing on it. "What are you doing?" He questioned, startled as he tried to withdraw his hands.

"Keeping you warm, dummy."

You were glowing, and you gaze at him with the same loving grin. His heart fluttered, feeling his frigid fingers soften and warm up because of you.

He pretended not to know if the cause of his face and ears going red was also you.

You never complained and never rushed. You were there, patient and supportive.

Soon, he thought of himself from a few years ago. Whatever 13-year-old Sieun had realized when you went abroad, he was right.

Because he loved you. For the longest time.

And he was not going to let you go.

Just before the day he would move to the new apartment in Yeongdeungpo, where he was accepted in a school named Eunjang High, he knocked on your door, with your favorite food and drink.

"Wow! Is this your goodbye gift?" You teased him, taking the bag from his hand as you let him inside.

He wordlessly sat down when you invited him to the couch, you tilt your head. When Sieun was quiet, he had something in his mind. There was a sparkle of certainty in his puppy-look eyes as he stared at you.

"You okay, pretty boy?" The nickname was familiar, you always called him that ever since your playground hangouts. He often tells you to stop that—but you couldn't, not when you notice his ears getting red and his lips that tries to refrain himself from smiling.

“…” Crap. What was he going to say again? He made efforts to practice in front of the mirror only for him to fail at the moment he needed his words.

To you, it looked like he was struggling. It worried you.

You took the guts to place a hand on his cheek, fixating his focus on you. "Sieun, what's going on—"

"I love you."

You let out a surprised sound, your eyes wide at the sudden words.

You felt a sense of rushing emotions inside you. Was it excitement, shock, or bashfulness?

Whatever it was, you were just sure it was making your face hot.

Okay. That was straightforward.

But it was Yeon Sieun, the boy who always had a sure answer.

You pinch his cheek lightly, he squinted his eyes at you as if it could help his ruddy ears from turning back to its original color. "Hey, are you crazy?! Why are you saying such things?" You asked just so you can lighten up the conversation.

"Because I do. I love you." He calmly told you again, the three magic words made you cover your face. "Okay, okay! I get it." You were embarrassed, could he not act so nonchalant?! You were freaking out here!

"Is it.. bad?" Sieun mumbled, watching as you grumble something in your hands, somewhere along the lines of: "Curse those cold-blooded veins in your body!"

You looked at him, red faced with a pout. "No, of course not! It's just that..."

You trailed off, finding the strength to face him again and held his cold hands in your warm ones. You took a moment, "I.. I love you, too. Since forever." You breathed out, smiling shakily at him.

Were you a Goddess? Sieun thought. How could you look so beautiful?

He leaned to you, initiating first. "Can I kiss you?" He asks in a deep voice, pulling your hands.

You gulped nervously, nodding as no words could come out of your mouth.

He moved, closer and closer, until your noses touched and the two of you closed your eyes. The world around you stopped moving when his lips gently settled on yours.

Sieun was 16 when he kissed his first love.

[ozzgin]

Its been 6 months😭😭 pleaasseeee make a part 2 of the android x human story im beggingggg😭

-H❤️

Yandere! Android x Reader (II)

Featuring your assigned android partner who is not as devoid of humanity as you originally thought.

Content: female reader, AI yandere, mildly NSFW, based on Caves of Steel

[Part 1] | [More original works]

The case had been solved.

Not only that, but you'd managed to prove that human officers were just as efficient as their robot counterparts. The Commissioner was beyond ecstatic, pacing back and forth in his office and finding new ways to praise your detective skills.

"That'll show those Spacers. They think some glorified tin box can match our skill?"

You frowned at his words and glanced to your side, where the android was sitting. He observed the Commissioner with the same polite smile, no hint of disagreement on his features. Was he not insulted? You questioned him once the formal meeting had finished.

"I have no reason to be offended, (Y/N). It is a personal opinion, and thus I have no control over it."

"So you don't mind people disliking robots to such an extent?"

He pondered your statement.

"I would certainly be upset if it was you who harbored the disdain. The beliefs of other humans hold no meaning to me otherwise."

You couldn't tell if he said it out of politeness, or if he actually meant it. Most likely the former, in order to part on good terms. After all, your partnership has reached its completion. He'd return to the Spacer Colony with his report on human customs, and you'd go back to your regular job.

Except he never left. Days later, he was still sipping on his morning coffee, lounging at your table. You fiddled with your cup in contemplation. Was there anything else left to do?

"When are you leaving, actually?"

The pale man raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.

"Is my presence here of such significant disturbance?"

"What? No!" you swiftly exclaimed, stumbling on your words. His lips widened in yet another cheeky grin. He was teasing you again.

"My assignment on Earth is done, thus I should have returned to the Colony already. That's what you're wondering about, yes? I am awaiting a response from my superiors."

"Whether you can go back?"

"No, whether my transfer has been accepted. I have applied to be your permanent partner."

You could feel your cheeks burning with heat. Was it that obvious to the synthetic that you enjoyed his company? Then again, he wouldn't have gone through such motions just for your sake.

"Why did you..." you probed sheepishly. There was no logical reason for him to keep working in a poorer, less advanced environment.

"Because I want to continue spending time with you."

Nonsense. An artificial being wouldn't make its decision based on such mundane, emotional reasons.

"I don't believe you."

"I understand. It is a faulty answer to come out of a machine. Though unlike common AI assistants, we have been invested with the capacity to develop likes and dislikes. Interests. Wants. It helps with variety and individualization."

"And you want to stay here? If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you have a crush on me or something", you attempted to joke.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence. Had you gone too far with your humor? Was it too cliché of a sentence? You turned away, tucking some strands of hair behind your ear. You just had to be witty, huh?

"I'm afraid I do not know what to tell you, (Y/N)."

"You don't need to say anything, it was a poor choice of-"

"Many social aspects have been implemented into my behavioral network. Workplace rapport, friendships, intimate relationships. What seems to be lacking is the transition from one to another. I know how to act as a romantic partner, but how does one achieve such a title in the first place?"

You gazed at him, incredulous. What was he trying to say?

"I am trying to convey that I am indeed infatuated with you. Which, then, makes my initial explanation dishonest: while I do appreciate our fruitful work cooperation, it is not a main reason for my decision. I hope this clears up any misunderstandings."

You'd never been a romantic. You sometimes flipped through sample pages of contemporary romance books at stores and community centers, but they always felt forcefully cheesy. Predictable. Consequently, you never had any grand dreams of passionate confessions under the rain.

On the other hand, you also didn't expect to be asked out in such a mechanical, calculated manner. Or that a machine would be the suitor. Yet there was something charming about his approach. For the first time since meeting him at the border, you saw him struggle. There was something human-like in his uncertainty.

You stood up from the table, and walked towards the android. Then, you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, expressing the mutual feeling and understanding.

His eyes bore an eerie glint to them. It was most kind of you to offer a common ground, but he knew better. The affections you held for him were, with utmost certainty, a mere fraction of whatever overwhelmed him from the moment he encountered you. Limerence, obsession, compulsion, there were many definitions that aptly described his otherwise unexplainable desires towards you. Even more unexplainable was the fact they'd evolved from a blank slate, a programmed agent with no previous knowledge on feelings or humans.

You noticed his hesitation.

"Is there anything else troubling you presently?" you nudged.

Nothing of immediate urgency. Well, not for you, at least. The android remained thoughtful. What were the variables which needed to be met in order to initiate a sexual encounter? Would it have been inappropriate for him to suggest intercourse straight after this conversation? To him, it was a natural escalation he'd considered many times in the past. To you, it could've come as a sudden, crass, and hurried proposal.

He reached for your wrist and discreetly pressed a thumb against your skin. Judging from your resting heart rate, facial expression, and localized temperature, there was a fair chance you wouldn't reject his advances. Once the statistical risk had been assessed, he pulled you in for a kiss.

"Would it be possible to continue this in your bedroom?" he inquired, standing up.

"Alright, just don't...ask for approval for every single step" you retorted. You'd rather not become a narrator of your own pounding.

You open your eyes with a squint, greeted by unexpected natural light flooding your bedroom. Someone must’ve lifted the hologram blinds.

“My apologies, I hadn’t considered the discomfort it would cause you. My Spacer colony uses artificial lightning, though I am becoming rather fond of the natural sun rays here.”

Your android partner is meticulously preparing his outfit for the day. Judging by the stark nakedness and the glistening skin, you suppose he’s had a shower while you were still sleeping. You involuntarily furrow your brows and blush at the sight. He notices your embarrassment. 

“A most surprising reaction. You have seen the very same genital organ…”, he says as he quickly checks his wristwatch, “...precisely eight hours and forty-five minutes ago.”

“It’s just…most people get dressed once they start doing other things. I also wear a towel for coverage when I come out of the shower.”

He processes your words.

“Hmmm. Illogical, but it explains your reaction.”

You stand up and stretch with a prolonged yawn. Suddenly, a revelation hits you: your mind flashes with images of the android fondling your body, your ears ring with the shameless moans you’ve let out throughout the night. Your face turns pale.

“Listen, when is your next functional inspection?” you ask, without waiting for the synthetic to answer. “Will they, uh…will they have access to all of your memories?”

You know that the android permanently records all data and saves it into a memory unit. It’s a pointless fear, of course. The Spacers couldn’t care less about irrelevant details. If the intended tasks are fulfilled, what happens on the side is out of their concern. Yet you don’t exactly appreciate the possibility of your personal deeds airing like this, before the eyes of multiple engineers. 

“You may rest assured, whatever involves your privacy will not be included in the examination.”

“Do you get to decide what is checked and what isn’t?”

“No, most data is sampled randomly.”

You stare at him, confused.

“Then how-”

“It is not common practice, nor encouraged by our code of ethics. I can, however, choose which information is available to begin with.”

“What? I thought you’re fully controlled by whoever created you. If they so desired, couldn’t they open you up and take whatever they require?”

The robot smiles at your assumption and takes a few steps towards you.

“Once an android model is finished, one can no longer modify the processor. Not without compromising everything else with it. It is not a device to be deconstructed, (Y/N).” He taps his temple, then continues: “I am a biocomputer. While most of my parts are mechanical, my processor is a cortical organoid developed in a laboratory. A human brain, if you will.”

Somehow, the discovery fills you with dread. A living organ, encapsulated within a machine. What does that say about consciousness? About self-awareness? The Spacers didn't just tinker with metal scraps and smart computers. They artificially birthed life.

You were always under the impression that your robot companion is closer to the computer you have on your desk. Billions of lines of code within a black box, which then lead to spontaneous, novel interactions with the outside world. To think that at the very core of his functions lies a clump of living cells...

Perhaps you weren't so different, after all. The line between machines and humans is suddenly blurred.

[acid-ixx]

I have a question, well 2 questions to be exact that’s been rattling around in my head since I started reading platonic yandere batfam fics, why would reader stay in Gotham? I’d be sneakily stealing as much money as I could without getting caught as soon as I reach a “fuck these guys” mentality. Like, asking to have some money for groceries or something and just pocketing it so that I could get a bus ticket and leave the city. Would you do it if you were reader? It just makes sense to me “this place sucks, these people suck, I’ve gotten enough to leave”, this is with me assuming that reader has the means of course, if the reader doesn’t then okay, yeah that makes sense

And my second question, do you ever feel resentful towards Alfred when you read batfam photonic yandere content? I do sometimes, especially when the reader is neglected. I know this might sound odd but when I read these fics I recognize that Alfred could do more, out of everyone in the manner, I think Alfred’s word carries the most weight, especially with Bruce due to him raising Bruce. I also notice in some batfam fics that the reader doesn’t get mad at him due to him giving them attention, but idk it feels kinda like a slap to the face, knowing that I don’t have the power but he does and yet not exercising it until I’ve burned every last tie to that family.

I know my thoughts are a more “well you’re on the outside looking in” type takes, but idk, it hurts my heart knowing that if reader stays in that city, it will be far more easier for the batfam to find them, where if they were outside the city, they’d have a fighting chance to make a new life for themselves

On a side note, I think we are underutilizing the angst potential of reader legally changing their name and the batfam not knowing until months or even years later when reader leaves. Like Bruce and the fam would just have to sit and realize that reader hates/dislikes/doesn’t care about them enough to legally change their name from Wayne to whatever reader chooses. Jason was Batman’s greatest failure, but Reader would be Bruce’s greatest failure, and what a delightful public failure it would be if the tabloids were to somehow find out that one of Bruce Wayne’s biological children changed their legal name

I’m loving your batfam content btw, like it makes me want to create one of those “screw therapy, I need to fist fight my dad” tiktoks and tag Bruce Wayne, that’s what I can phenomenal writing!! And sorry for making this so long! Hope you have a great existence!

slight spoilers for future chapters.

this is one of my favorite asks... anon, you are so brilliant because your two questions tie into the reader's character so well and the flaws that they (you) conjured from years of neglect, so i hope my answers would suffice (i am answering based on the perspective of the reader from my series: again & again with a bit of my own perspective). tysm for sending this in, i actually really enjoy long asks and appreciate it when people take the time to send me these things!

why would the reader stay in gotham?

chapter one wasn't all the detailed about why they stayed in gotham. firstly, their self-worth had them reason that in no way, shape, or form would their family that basically estranged them would come running to them, especially not when the only time the reader could even stumble across them is by some miracle of coincidence. this also ties into their lack of knowledge about their family. sure, they know that babs is the oracle but do they know just how much access she has across gotham? not really. they know tim, like bruce, has a tendency to collect information about other people, but they don't know that they have contingency plans to be creeped out enough to get away from gotham and from their reach.

"it's not like tim or bruce or barbara considered you important enough to be stalked. hah, as if!"

and the third point is, despite bruce being a billionaire of some sort, it was stated that the reader was too well-behaved and quiet. how does this make sense? as you've stated, they wouldn't simply have the means to get out. seeing as they were sheltered by alfred and never really explored the concept of traveling far away, they never asked for money; the only advantage of being a wayne is having quite a lot of things served on a silver platter.

they have this sort of toxic bond for staying with the people who have hurt them and it materialized to them physically staying despite knowing it would only cause more pain than anything else, and they don't know that. plus, they'd rather not have the wayne name associated with them and getting money from cheques or credit cards would be too risky for the reader's safety.

they've only realized just how shitty their family is after more than 10-13 years of staying in the manor, and saving up to move to an entirely different place would be difficult, alongside college and the jobs they have to take. so the next best thing they could do is rely on any means of advantage they could get whilst also moving on to the path of self-discovery and recovery.

but that doesn't mean they're staying in gotham forever, definitely not. the moment the reader realizes that dick gained some sort of interest towards them, they're booking it out of gotham. preferably to metropolis or central city or even somewhere far, far away— they're naive, but not stupid. sudden interest towards them means danger rather than anything else. and they're aware that alfred is capable enough to pull strings, so that's why spoiler alert: they have a secret stash of money hidden somewhere and like any children of bruce, they inherited the capability to be smart enough to already back up their contacts and everything on their phone, buy a burner phone and even change their entire identity in one quick go right after they move into an entirely different city or country.

gotham is merely their practice course.

do you ever feel resentment towards alfred?

quite frankly, yes. the reader in the fic feels resentment towards everyone for a reason actually, but alfred's part was stated vaguely as to not spoil a future chapter that focuses on his perspective. they know that he has the more power inside the manor more than bruce has. everyone, and i mean everyone respects alfred, and it doesn't take a genius to know that if you mess with him, you're messing with an entire family of crime fighters.

it's not obvious, but the reader's narrative in chapter one is them trying so hard to delude themself into thinking things can be better until it's too late. so in a sense, there's false narrative coming into play.

"alfred would be too busy sometimes to attend your school ceremonies because he had to assist bruce with missions. of course, you understood his priorities. after all, he tried his hardest to make you feel less lonely inside the mansion, it wasn't enough but he was there at least."

at some point in time, alfred had also neglected the reader emotionally with the same reasoning as the others; he was busy with their father. and this all could've been avoided if alfred had tried to confront the entire family about it. i'm not delving deeper into this to really avoid spoilers other than pointing out some details in the first chapter.

just know that alfred relishes in your newfound favoritism towards him, and that he may or may not have pulled some strings himself from helping you become closer to the family.

the part about reading changing their name from (name) wayne to (name) (last name) is what made me so drawn to this ask. you have pretty much predicted one of the chapters that explored (name) wayne to the public eye. they're not so much of an internet celebrity because of their rare appearances in public, but that's what causes immense curiosity about their identity to uprise in gotham, and their fame was one of the means to get to you.

there was one news article published that was the reason that made bruce distant towards you.

but let's focus on what yan! bruce would've felt once he turns a full 360.

because the first thing he would do once he has you in his grasp is to change your last name back to his. you are not the child of a (last name), you are a wayne first and foremost, bruce's third child and his greatest mistake, quite literally. you were a product of a one-night-stand, and because he was drowning in despair from jason's death, he had failed to notice you. all his years of neglect, and he doesn't even know a single thing about you, simply because he refused to acknowledge your presence.

and you rightfully hated him, he should've accepted that. but your diary entries and the way you innocently thought of him destroyed any sliver of hope for a peaceful reconciliation. he hates how you were experiencing the same type of despair as him when it comes to battling your own monsters— you truly are a wayne at heart. he couldn't afford to let you get away any further. just like dick, he needs to fix it now or further sever the already broken ties you have with him.

it's not batman now, but rather bruce. bruce wayne had failed to save another one of his children, not as a vigilante, but as a father.

knowing bruce, he's quick to take into action and search for you.

holy shit, this is a really long post but i hope it does answer the questions ! im so grateful that you like my writing enough to write a really long ask, and i hope to see your messages more once the new chapters are published <3

[loathemetc]

Some thoughts on leitmotifs in Deltarune Chapters 3 and 4.

Now that I've played the game and had time to let my thoughts stir a bit, I think it's about time I start getting them out there. Obviously there are a lot of musical motifs throughout the game but I wanna talk about three of them specifically.

The first would be the lost girl motif. While in Chapter 2 it was mostly just used in direct relation to Noelle, we see it being used a lot more for emotional moments when she's not around in chapters 3 and 4. Most notably it features in Raise Up Your Bat, the song from the rhythm game segment. Tenna talks about December and the music video channel she used to watch right before this, and the song was first mentioned in the "currently listening to" section on Noelle's blog, implying that this is an in universe song that Dess was a fan of. The fact that said song features the motif therefore makes me think that it's the origin of the motif. Lost Girl plays at such emotional moments because in a way, it's the ghost of Dess's favorite song haunting the narrative. And I just think that's neat.

Second is the so-called freedom motif that plays in direct relation to the secret bosses. In Chapters 1 and 2 this plays in THE WORLD REVOLVING and BIG SHOT, the secret boss fight themes for both Jevil and Spamton respectively, as well as The Circus and Dialtone, two other songs related to them. In Chapter 4 again this motif plays in the fight with the Hammer of Justice, in the song called... Hammer of Justice. And again this is a secret boss fight, where the "Air crackles with freedom." Pretty straight forward.

But strangely, this motif doesn't obviously play in Chapter 3. There's a short string of notes in the Knight's battle theme, Black Knife, that sounds kind of like it? Which would make sense, given the Knight holds a shadow crystal just like those other three bosses, but it's not enough for me to really make an conclusion on. But the Knight having the shadow crystal and no one else in chapter 3 having one is interesting right? Almost as if it's the one who's been handing them out, but since this whole chapter is about waiting for the Knight to arrive, there was no time for it to give a shadow crystal to Ramb.

Weirdly though, it does play a second time in Chapter 4. And this is a double spoiler warning, if you've beaten Chapter 4 but haven't reloaded your save after beating it, go do that right now, you're missing out on something major if you don't and I'm going to be talking about it.

Went and did that? Alright, cool.

So that was a pretty fun extra boss right? Good time was had by all. But you probably noticed that despite being some sort of secret boss, there was no freedom motif in the song Catswing, and no shadow crystal. Which again makes sense, these are just more Chapter 3 darkners. So why am I even talking about this?

Well, one of the mini games you unlock after this, BATTAT, has its own song called Air Waves. And this one... does, have the freedom motif...? Which is weird right. Still no shadow crystal, and this isn't even a boss fight. But there's that song. The only weird thing about this game is that it does seem to be an actual fleshed out version of the cat clicking mini game from the sweepstakes update and just like that game, the IMAGE_FRIEND smile can appear here too. Which is certainly weird, but the IMAGE_FRIEND smile appears twice in Chapter 3 and once in Chapter 2 with no freedom motif attached.

I could make a guess here, like maybe the Mike conspiracy board calling direct attention to Kris's dislike of Asgore's conspiracy board is a tease for a real Mike secret boss in chapter 5, but I was kind of under the impression that the giant realistic microphone was the real Mike, so I don't really know.

It's worth noting that the mini games names seem to be french words, Jongler and Pluey being Jongleur and Pluis, french for Juggler and Rain respectively. My french has never been that good though so while Battat definitely sounds like a french word I can't really put my finger on it. It's probably also just a word that describes the mini game though. Probably doesn't mean anything deep but if it secretly does hey at least I mentioned it.

Okay that was too many paragraphs about the freedom motif. Air Waves is weird. Really damn good track though. The drum line is also like one note off from Bad Apple's which is funny. Moving on!

So notably while the freedom motif is tied to the secret bosses, Chapter 3 does have a secret boss track that lacks the motif. BURNING EYES, the theme of the fight with... Eram? The shadow mantle? It's hard to know really whether to trust a track name or sprite file name on what to call this thing because the game gives us nothing to work with really. It's a strange and irregular boss battle, with Zelda-like gameplay and against a character we can't even identify at all. But despite that, the theme does give us something to work with, a motif. Just not the freedom motif.

It's... Power of NEO.

And I know what you're thinking, I thought we were done with Spamton NEO. And I think we are. But Spamton NEO is not the only reference to NEO in Deltarune. Jevil, Queen, and Tenna all mention it. THE TRUE AND NEO CHAOS, Noelle creating a neo dark fountain, NEO shows, NEO programs. Queen and Tenna use it just like a stand-in for new but that's what makes the choice of words so conspicuous.

You could argue, sure, that Jevil, Queen, and Tenna are all characters who have history with Spamton. The fight for the shadow mantle even comes soon after a scene where Tenna talks about this. But I think there's something a lot bigger here than just an Undertale reference. I think we gotta ask ourselves something.

What IS the power of NEO?

In Undertale the motif plays twice I believe. In the fights with Undyne the Undying and Mettaton NEO, both people determined to protect everyone from being killed by you. Now Mettaton did a pretty poor job at that but it's the thought that counts, right? You could make the argument that the power of NEO is determination, Queen even uses the word when referring to Noelle creating a dark fountain, the power to create, to make new?

But does this really work for where this motif plays in Deltarune? In the case of BURNING EYES, definitely not. BIG SHOT is interesting though because it plays in two contexts, and the weird route context could arguably put Spamton in the same spot as Undyne, but his motivations are far more selfish.

But let's try looking at it from another perspective. For a long time people have suggested that MEGALOVANIA isn't Sans's theme but rather the theme of the player, or Chara, or whatever. A theme of violence, of malice. But what if that's actually Power of NEO? After all, in Undertale it only plays against bosses on the no mercy route. In Deltarune, not only is Spamton a violent malicious and selfish person, but you're also forced to fight him on the game's own version of the no mercy route. And of course, Spamton is pretty famous for comparing Kris to himself.

The fight for the shadow mantle has dialogue that is all the way up this alley. "There! That's what I wanted to see. Flickering red, like pretty little flames... Your eyes can't hide it Kris. Without play... The knife grows dull. Haha... well, enough of that. We both have work to do." Getting the Shadow Mantle and using it to get through the Knight fight even puts you on the path to being able to kill the titan spawn instead of purifying them, so I've heard. I haven't actually beaten the Knight yet. I'm sorry it's really hard. But if that's the work that has to be done... The mantle or eram or whatever even accuses Kris of enjoying what we did in the weird route, knowing they could say it wasn't really them. It's hard to say how accurate of a character judgement this is, though. Because genuinely what the fuck is this fight. I'm losing my mind.

It's honestly really hard to conclude anything at this point about what the power of NEO is exactly, but I feel like we'll be hearing about it more in the future. It curiously isn't mentioned at all in Chapter 4 from what I can remember, but it's also a chapter with several main antagonists who don't speak at all and a secret boss who didn't even look at his shadow crystal, so.

NEO means new, of course, we can't forget that when thinking about this. I believe there was someone who wanted us to create a new future with them...?

Curiouser and curiouser.

Of course I'm also obligated to mention that the IMAGE_FRIEND smile appears in the shadow mantle fight as well, what even is up with that thing. It's pink and yellow eyes tie directly to Spamton's glasses and the buttons on the oddcontroller, and the Hammer of Justice mentions Chapter 5 will be about a field of pink and gold, so... I guess we'll find out.

MINOR EDIT: Apparently on the Switch 2 version of the game, the mini games are slightly different, with Battat and Jongler being replaced by Air Waves and Main Performance. Obviously the song "Air Waves" plays in the game Air Waves here instead of Battat. As far as I can tell the IMAGE_FRIEND smile doesn't appear here at all, but it is by far the most pink and yellow of all the mini games. So this doesn't really change much but it's definitely worth noting, so I did.

[irlkomaedanagito]

hi. i dont care if you like v3 or not. i like v3 as a concept and i do agree it had interesting themes in it. i slander it a lot because i wish it was better. you took one post i made where i offhandedly mentioned v3 and took it in... pretty bad faith

The argument being made here is actually kind of crazy to me. "The first two games in this series were about this thing, so the third one has to be about that too, and because it isn't, it's bad." God forbid franchises try new things!

that's not the begining and end of my critique of v3, it is just simply that this post was a) about something else and b) a bit tongue in cheek. my analysis of institutional critique was true but me touching on v3 wasnt The Point

i actually wrote up a LONG post detailing (some of) my critiques on v3 and i actually plan to do a full beat for beat writeup with more coherent thoughts at some point and mmmaybe make a video essay?

https://www.tumblr.com/kindlyre/763251748052860928/im-glad-you-liked-it-and-yeah-i-had-that-same?source=share

here it is. i don't check that blog anymore so if you have a response please respond here. and please don't treat me like i'm stupid and take my words in bad faith

i am not particularly interested in having "a debate" about why v3 is or isnt a good game. you can like v3 if you want, i certainly do despite all my critiques. i'm not responsible for tumblr pushing this post onto you algorithmically and i honestly wish youd respect that i just. have critiques on the game and not have to class trial me while also acting like my argument is reductive because you only saw a fraction of it, and not feel like you have to "tear into" a guy making a post because an algorithm spat my post out.

my pet theory is that any danganronpa media worth its salt has to be a little bit about a corrupt bullshit orginization and how much it sucks. the first 2 games are literally about how the punitive justice system sucks fucking shit. first game shows this by every blackened having a Reason for kilking outside of "murder yaaayyy," yes even celestia, her desire for money is explained in depth from her free time events and how she grew up, everyone had a Reason. sakura's suicide was the result of societal punitive justice instead of institutional and how people who think their moral outrage is good bc its aimed at the "correct targets" will just end up hurting people. second game takes this even furthur and goes "in the first game, punitive justice was bad because all these people were victims of circumstance. can you keep those same morals when the people being subject to punitive justice ARE actual criminals of their own free will?" with the added part about the nwp explicitly being a rehabilitative justice program. kamukura's inclusion and honestly dr:0 as a whole since the whole catalyst was kamukura is just a little bit about how any kind of exceptionally smart child is propped up as Something Amazing and is basically forced to use that talent for the greater good despite any feelings the child themself may have about it or how stuck they feel or how traumatized or tortured they become in the search for and nurturing of that talent, and any child thats not that is constantly told theyre inferior to the former and Why Cant They Be Like That and are seen as lesser-than by everyone around them. ultra despair girls is also kind of about that with the warriors of hope and their backstories. dr3 and v3 fall short because they are not about that at all. dr3's future arc is a bit stronger than despair because it actually is about an institution that sucks and despair's feels too much like an interpersonal thing and All Junko's Fault when the whole point was junko just took advantage of unrest that was already there. v3 is about an Institution That Sucks however the institution is "what if you loved a murder game so much you made it real" which doesnt fucking happen. you can make approximations like comparisons to true crime, reality tv, and for a more specific example that squid game reality show. but they didnt even kill people on that. v3 is critiquing something that does not measurably exist and also it doesnt connect to even a single theme from the rest of the series. my other pet theory is that kodaka is scared of the number 3 and thats why the ones with 3 in them are like that

[edible-emerald]

Ok so PVP civilization??? I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS???

Spoilers for episode 5 btw

So first off the REVEALS THIS EPISODE??? And the fact that most of them were to the viewer and not to Evbo???

The first reveal I want to talk about is PRINCEZAM REVIVING. HE CAN REVIVE TOO. This means WAY MORE THAN YOU MIGHT INITIALLY THINK.

Princezam's character, in nature, is selfish. He talks highly about how Evbo repeatedly dying is heroic, and while he may be subjecting himself to endless torture, he's saving so many lives, he's a hero, he's a good person. It's implied that Zam believes, if he were in Evbo's position, he would do the same; that he would let himself die to save others. But it's a lie. Because he IS in Evbo's position. HE CAN REVIVE TOO. But he kept it a better secret than Evbo, which is the only reason why he hasn't been endlessly farmed yet.

The second reveal Princezam gives that also shows more about his character and motives is that Evbo has a limited number of revives. He isn't immortal. He's on his last life. If he dies again, he'd be gone forever. And Zam knew this.

And I think something is really, really interesting about this. Because in episode 4, Zam's motive is to make Evbo die over and over indefinitely so he can keep increasing durability of the iron swords and increasing life span. Still an interesting character, but him KNOWING that this solution is temporary, and him KNOWING that Evbo will die permanently soon, changes everything. His motive wasn't to save the iron swords, I actually think he couldn't care less about them. His motive was to kill Evbo.

What else would it be? Why else would Zam KNOWINGLY make Evbo die over and over with every death coming closer to permanent death? Because for whatever reason, Zam wanted to get rid of Evbo. But why? Yes, it's true he was the chosen one. But that leads me into my next point:

Is he?

The only real thing that made Evbo special enough to be the chosen one is that he could revive himself after dying. But he isn't the only one who can. Zam can too; and I believe Tabi and a few other people can as well. So IS he the chosen one? Personally, I don't think he is. I think that someone else is the chosen one, but I'll get to who eventually. What possible motive could Zam have for wanting Evbo dead, if he isn't the chosen one?

Evbo was a diamond sword.

OKOKOK HEAR ME OUT

Evbo was a diamond sword who's memories were erased. He was threatening to like do something (maybe become a netherite sword?) that Zam and others didn't approve of and maybe he was working with Tabi, so both of them were killed and revived in the wooden sword level. But Evbo's memories were erased in the process so Tabi decided to manipulate him and get to the top without him this time. That brings me to the next point.

Tabi has history with some of the diamond swords. Specifically, Ferre. We don't know what yet, but I believe like I said above that she and Evbo were previously diamond swords, and were trying to do something and ended up being killed. Evbo's memories were erased but Tabi's weren't.

I think the reason the diamond swords were willing to let Evbo back in and not Tabi is because he lost all his memories. Maybe, he'll get some back and realize that the diamond layer is corrupt or evil in some way, and team up with Tabi to defeat them. But I don't think so. I think Tabi is evil and had either roped in Evbo, or worked with Evbo but losing his memories made him change.

Anyways, on the topic of reviving, I think it's also safe to say Zam was a diamond sword. First off, he seemed to know the diamond swords personally and disliked them, calling them 'bottom feeders' (which by the way is so fucking funny I giggled so much at that line) also we know he can revive as well so safe to say he was killed and revived there. Maybe he was in the plan (that may or may not exist idfk) with Tabi and Evbo and was killed as well. But I doubt it, considering how he treats Evbo, but then again, his character is very selfish and antagonistic. I think his ultimate motive is to rank up to a netherite sword (which may be godhood like in parkciv?? but we don't know) and he's trying to kill Evbo to take out the competition.

Also this is a minor thing but now we finally know why Zam kept his door closed in episode two, because he had an armor stand too and didn't want the secret to come out.

Now for the final reveal: Parrot has a backstory. And I think I know what it is.

Parrot is the real chosen one.

Ok my evidence for this is mostly speculation but also if Evbo isn't the chosen one than who?? Parrot is a really odd character, like every time he talks it just feels like there's something off about him. He talks a lot about the chosen one, but he acts. Weird. Around Evbo when he finds out that he's the chosen one. Also, for someone so devoted to the chosen one, he's still very much alive; and I point this out because he has a mansion AND a video journaling machine. That costs a lot of swings and I have a feeling he hasn't really ever paid respects to it. Even though he says he has. And why would he? BECAUSE HE'S THE CHOSEN ONE.

If Parrot isn't the chosen one, either one of two things are probably true:

he was a diamond sword

he was a/the netherite sword

I don't really know how these would work in the story the same way the chosen one theory would, but yeah

Thank you for reading my ramblings :33 hopefully I didn't miss anything lmao

ALSO??? WEMMBU AND MINUTE IN A EVBO VIDEO???? HELLO???? IS THIS REAL LIFE????????

[gojoidyll]

aeon & bird & arrow 4

yandere!aeon!phainon x fem!reader x yandere!mydei

Phainon wishes to get to know you and the village more.

taglist

@reapersan

“Here! It’s on the house!”

Phainon’s eyes widened when you handed him a pie. The warmth of the desert seeping into his hands as he looked down at it. Honestly, this was the first time anyone has given him anything without asking for something in return. It made his heart ache.

“I can’t possibly-“

“I insist,” you said, your eyes shined far greater than the sun ever could.

He finally looked at you again, his eyes studying you carefully, “well, I can’t possibly finish this by myself,” if it was made by you, then he definitely could, “why don’t we eat it together?”

“T- together?”

Phainon nodded, “I’m actually new around here, and I don’t know my way around actually, and I was hoping one of you kind villagers would be nice enough to show me around?”

You smiled back at Phainon, “alright, sure! Let me close everything up here and we can go find a place to talk, or – do you want to talk here?”

Phainon shook his head, “I would love it if you should me a quiet place. I’ve been moving around so much lately, a relaxing place is probably what I need most right now.”

“Of course! Just give me a moment and then we can head out!”

A part of you was restless as you went into your kitchen. Was it a good idea to walk around with a stranger? You thought back to Mydei – he was a stranger too at one point… You shook your head, Phainon seemed like a nice, kind, and gentle man. And he saved you from Laios much like Mydei had done. Who knows, maybe Phainon met Mydei at some point! He does seem like a traveler after all.

“Ready to go,” you asked as you exited your kitchen.

“Born ready,” Phainon said, pie still in hand as he opened the door for you, but before you left you were sure to grab your basket that held a blanket and a few pillows in it.

You decided to lead him to your favorite spot. A spot that you hoped to see Mydei at. But, the immortal king wasn’t there. Trying to keep your smile, you set down your basket and took out the blanket and set it out, while also leaning the pillows up against the tree for you both to lean on.

You patted the spot beside you and Phainon was more than happy to oblige while setting the pie between you both.

“This is quite the small village,” he noted.

You nodded, “y- yeah, when the village was first built the people wanted to make it clear that we didn’t want to side with anyone. That we just wanted to live in peace in our own little plot of land.”

“I didn’t see any churches or alters. Do you all worship any aeons?”

“We don’t actually. And for that reason, there have been quite a few people who moved here. But only because they dislike the aeons so much…,” you said with a sheepish laugh.

“And you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, how do you feel about the aeons? Do you hate them?”

You shook your head, “I could never hate them.”

“Then how do you feel about them?”

“I think I’m just afraid of them. They hold so much power in just their fingertips. And I guess that scares me…”

“If an aeon were to look after your village, who would you want it to be?”

“mmm, probably the one looking after Castrum Kremnos.”

“Oh,” Phainon mused, “I heard that a lot was going with that one.”

You gave him a questioning look.

“What I heard was that the current aeon that is looking after the kremnoans killed the previous aeon.”

“Really? But how-“

Phainon hummed a little, “no one really knows, but the current one is the new aeon of destruction.”

“W- well, I’m sure that that aeon had their reasons…”

“You’re not going to curse him?”

You shook your head, “of course not, their an aeon. Their reasons are probably far more greater than I can possibly imagine.”

“That aeon’s reasoning may be far simpler than you think.”

“What do you mean,” you asked.

Phainon chuckled and shook his head, “nevermind, it doesn’t really matter. Now, tell me more about your village and it’s people. What’s it like here on a day to day basis?”

You didn’t question Phainon’s enthusiasm for even a second.

[manikas-whims]

hello i love your headcanons and was wondering if you could add sylus in some of your older ones? i was reading the "LADS men react to you dating a toxic partner" (it wasnt the title i forgot sorry) and was wondering how sylus would react. i would love it so much if you could add sylus headcanons to some of your previous ones. thankyou so much, your posts make my day🎀💓

i got you dear ♡ i’ll add Sylus to all my older HCs slowly in various posts I'll try to make throughout the coming week :)

thanks for reading my silly lil HCs ♡ hope you like this!

Sylus’s reaction to you dating someone who later on mistreats you

🐦‍⬛ He's actually quite surprised when he finds out you're dating because he genuinely believed whatever him and you had going on was far more than just being close associates. So the idea of you seeing someone else kinda shakes him off his game for a while. Luke and Keiran can see it in the way he acts— slightly distracted during serious business meetings and even when a gang war breaks out.

🐦‍⬛ He isn't the type to get jealous but he will openly express his dislike for this person. Now he may not be a saint but it feels insulting to him that you'd rather date someone else when he can give you the world if you so much as ask.

🐦‍⬛ And he will be displeased every time you come up to him for a favor with your work or anything else, saying things like, “Oh, so now you need me? I thought you'd completely cut ties with my kind.”

🐦‍⬛ If this person ever hurts you emotionally or physically, then they better start counting their breaths cause they won't be spared many.

Sylus may not like this person you're dating but he's decent enough to respect your boundaries. And it would've stayed that way. He wouldn't have involved himself in your personal matters at all until Mephisto, (whom he had still left to watch over you) catches this person yelling at you one evening.

The sight is enough to make Sylus drop whatever work he's been swarmed with.

It doesn't take him long to arrive at the residential area you reside in. He stops his bike and teleports right over to your apartment. In an instant, he's standing between you and this person, the smoky red wisps of his evol holding this person by their neck.

“Is this your type?” Sylus asks, his crimson eyes glowering at this person. “I’m truly disappointed in your taste, Miss Hunter.”

You watch with dread as the fingers of his right hand curl into a fist, his arm poised to throw a punch. And though you appreciate the gesture, you can't let him proceed with this. You have seen him in action enough times to know how strong those fists are. You know that using said fists to hurt someone would only get him in more trouble. And you definitely wouldn't want that because even if you stubbornly refuse to say it out loud, you've grown quite attached to him.

“Sylus stop!” You yell.

As expected, he does not.

But right before his fist can collide with the person's face, Sylus blinks. He can feel the amount of strength you're exerting as you hold onto his arm to keep him in place. To keep him from hurting this person who broke not just your heart but also your trust.

He doesn't glance at you but scoffs. “Even now you defend them. Why?”

“I’m not defending them.” You say. “I just think it's beneath the leader of Onichynus to be wasting time on such people.”

He scoffs again. “You’re not wrong about that, Sweetheart.”

His evol lets go of this person's neck, and he gestures with his chin towards the door. “Get lost.”

They immediately run off.

Seeing that, your own fingers slowly loosen their grip on Sylus’s arm but he grabs hold of your hand before you can completely let go.

“Let’s go for a ride.” He suggests.

And you find yourself smiling for the first time in a while. “Where are we going?”

“Guess.”

XAVIER, RAFAYEL AND ZAYNE’s VERSIONS [HERE]

» MASTERLIST «

[revelboo]

I love Everything Is Alright sm and GOD i feel so bad for Megatron in such a specific way. Imagine you're in charge of a group of astronauts and they keep running off to go fuck the alien fauna, like bestie I'd be losing my shit too.

That’s pretty much what’s going on. 🤣 Poor guy is having a breakdown over all of his followers being deviants. I feel almost bad about how much fun I’m having in traumatizing Megatron- I swear I really do like him. I just also love making it worse. 18+ content

Everything Is Alright Pt 92

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Choosing to ignore the furious Seeker, Megatron turns his attention to Soundwave and curls a lip. “For Primus’s sake, cover yourself,” he growls. Hand lifting to run over his face, he gestures at Starscream. Hears the Seeker actually hiss at him, wings flared and he ignores that, too. “That isn’t a pet.” Or maybe you are. A pet they frag. It’s not like this mess can get any worse. “Are both of you bonded to it?”

• It?! Spike still buried inside you, he’s aware of your little hands clinging to him. Of your fear and the way the bond amplifies it. “Keep away from my sparkmate,” he snarls. Stiffening as Megatron turns his stare on him, those cruel optics narrowing in calculation. Trying to figure out how to use you against him. To hurt him. Spark aching when you hide your face against his neck. Painfully aware of how fragile you are and that his frame is all that’s shielding you from Megatron’s anger. So it’s a surprise when Soundwave stands and moves between him and Megatron.

• “My sparkmate,” Soundwave says, hating the lie even as he makes the claim. Knows it’s necessary, though. Because if you only belong to Starscream, you’re as expendable as he is. Aware of Megatron’s dislike for the Seeker and that it isn’t wholly unwarranted. Starscream’s deliberately invoked his wrath so many times with so many plots and schemes. So Soundwave lies to keep you safe. And because he wants that, wants to keep you, hold you in his arms. If keeping the self destructive SIC on a leash is the cost, he’s willing to pay it for you.

• Why does it have to be like this? Holding onto Starscream as Soundwave lies to their leader, you just wish suddenly there was somewhere you could run away to with them both. Just the three of you. But you know how incredibly selfish the thought is as soon as you have it. To ask them to leave everything they know just for you? Star’s spark is still connected to you, tendrils of energy snaring you like he’s trying to hold onto you despite the threat looming over him. The feel of him wrapped around you helping calm the terror, because in his arms you want to believe it’ll be okay as foolish as it is. That feeling of safety singing through you despite the danger.

• “Of course, it is,” Megatron mutters. Two of his commanding officers both sparkbonded to an organic alien. The same alien. Why not? It’s not an epidemic of xenophilia, it’s an epidemic of insanity. “I understand having impulses, but this?” Sees Soundwave stiffen slightly as he gestures at Starscream and the human. His communications officer at least having the decency to look slightly embarrassed about it, the Seeker still glaring and defiant. “You understand that just because you’re fragging it, doesn’t mean it changes anything. You’ll bring me the… pet before reporting to your duties.” And he can try to figure out what you’ve done to both of them. Some sort of pheromones? The interfacing can’t just be that good. So, it must be something you’re doing- some strange human mind control making his Decepticons all crazy. And Shockwave can figure it out since Hook is also compromised now.

• “You think I’m going to hand over my mate?” Starscream snarls, ignoring the warning look Soundwave shoots him. So furious he’s shaking as Megatron stares him down. Not again. Please. He can’t just give you to that sadist. Before Megatron had only thought you were a pet, but now that he knows you matter? Knows what you are to him? Tries to lift up, intending to fight and you cling to him. Hook a leg over his hip. Hears your frightened, little ‘don’t, please’ and his spark hurts with it. Because he’s still connected to you, can feel that fear isn’t for yourself it’s for him. And it tears through him, the unfairness of all of it. That he can’t just have this one thing, the only thing that really matters. “You’re not invincible,” he growls at Megatron, not caring if the warlord hears the threat there. Because to protect his mate? He’ll burn the world down around him.

Previous

Next

[gay-dorito-dust]

Random Joaquin hdcs that come to my head

He utilises the puppy dog eyes against you into letting him off from doing some reckless shit that could’ve seriously hurt him. He knows your weakness regarding them and isn’t above using it against you.

You and Joaquin have mandatory sleep overs at each others rooms after a rough mission, just wanting to make sure that you were real, that you were both okay as you spent most of the night poetically pressed against one another in hopes of reassuring yourselves as well as each other that you were both okay.

He hums a little tune from his childhood to himself, it relaxes him and helps him remember the good memories, memories of his family and memories of you looking at him as though he hung the stars in the sky and or hand painted the night sky. The tune he hums provides him comfort as he reminds himself why he has chosen the path he has set himself on and what he wanted to show for it.

He’s protective and watches over you closely when on missions, not that Joaquin doesn’t trust you to keep yourself safe, but the second your injured this man doesn’t hesitate to neutralise the enemy as quick as possible before checking you over for deeper injuries that would cause you issues later on.

He’s not keen on loosing you anytime soon and doesn’t like to tempt the idea as though he might evoke it to become his reality by accident.

Has framed photos scattered across his room, most of his family, friends, Sam and you as he wants his room to be a reflection of whom he holds most dear to him. He’s a sentimental dude who holds everything he’s ever given close to his heart as he keeps them somewhere safe.

Probably talks everyone’s ear off about you well before you were dating and just really good friends, so much so that his family believed you were dating and wanted to meet you effectively immediately, much to Joaquin’s embarrassment as he realised just how much he did talk about you but how could he not when everything you did fascinated him; leaving him wanting to know you more.

So potentially you faked being his partner in a very cliche manner, but his family can easily see through the lie and yet they could tell you genuinely liked each other with every interaction you had with one another, with how close you were to one another or the fact that you were always touching one another in some way no matter what. Needless to say by the time you both had to go back to the compound you were actually dating, much to his family’s satisfaction.

Your teammates were also happy to see you both actually together also, they were sick of the obvious pinning. Neither of you were subtle.

Probably had a plush/figure of him in the falcon suit that he keeps on a shelf that overlooks the room like a watchful spectre. It’s the first plush/figure made of him and naturally he wants to keep it as he fanboys over the fact that he now has plushies/ figures of him.

He’s extremely intuitive and would be able to tell what you were feeling based on your body language and the way subtle ways your face would work against you to tell him what you were experiencing in the moment. So if you express discomfort in a situation, whether it was due to conflict and just having an overall disliking towards crowded and overstimulating environments, then Joaquin was quick to act and take you elsewhere quieter to regain yourself.

Good with kids. Imagine him with kids…Just a thought.

Is probably the type to say ‘you’ve got a crush on me? How embarrassing.’ Just to tease you, only for you to reply with ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, you weren’t exactly hiding how much you like me either pretty boy.’

He shuts up real quick but is quick to try again the next day by being a big goof because he enjoys a playful but committed relationship where you two could be your truest selves, and not feel judged or anything as you both promised to enter the relationship with authenticity and trust towards one another. So you were not only partners but also friends and close confidants that would bear your souls for the other.

Absolute Cuddle bug but loves to rest his head on your chest to listen to your heart, and even has you listening to his heart when he’s cradling you against him. He values listen to the others heart, but enjoyed it even more when your foreheads are pressed to one another as your hand rested atop of his chest where his heart was, still able to feel it beneath your palm.

Tricks you into wearing his clothes/ and or loves trapping you in his hoodies with him as you cuddle in the colder months, he’s smiling that beautiful, goofy, wholehearted smile as he keeps you trapped with him for as long as he wanted; which usually needs in you both falling asleep from how comfortable you had made yourselves.

Makes a heart with his hand and expects you to finish it/ makes a heart with his fingers when he spots you across the room and wanted to be a little cute and gentle.

So if you did it back to him, he’s smiling for the rest of the week as his eyes glimmer brightly with love and affection.

Rubs the back of his head when sheepish and shifts his weight on his feet when feeling a little awkward or out of place and just needed to do something to express the feeling.

[predestinatos]

hungry for life - MV1 (18+) ༄˖°.🪐.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: max verstappen x female!reader

summary: it could've been a dream trip. if it hadn't been for the nightmare of the company. (also i didn't proofread i'm sorry)

tags: enemies to lovers, smut, lots of smut, filthy really, p in v, fingering, reader swallows, idk what to say.

word count: 5.2k

MINORS DNI!!!

Monet’s Water Lilies occupied the entire room, listening to your conversation intently.

“It isn’t that big of a deal” you friend said, whispering and pointing to the painting as if she was commenting on it.

Your gaze remained on the careful brushstrokes, head tilted as you replied, “Easy for you to say. I mean, seriously? Max?” your hand raised to a specific part of the painting that really wasn’t as impressive up close as it probably was from afar - but there was no other way to have this conversation.

“You’re in Paris, looking at a Monet, with your best friend” she continued, a hint of a smile in her tone of voice. Her amusement only frustrated you more as she walked a few steps to the right, trying to inspect another part of the mesmerizing painting.

“And my worst enemy” you rolled your eyes as you followed her. “It’s not fair. When you said it would be you, your boyfriend and a friend of his, I didn’t expect this. I was thinking more of a double date.”

She looked at you, shrugging, causing her beautiful hair to bounce with her. “It can still be” she joked, to which you could only reply by turning your back to her - and consequently, Monet himself, muttering a ‘fuck you’ to her giggling frame and to the lilies who stood motionless in the still water.

You stood, alone, in front of Sam Francis’s In Lovely Blueness. You felt unlovely blue yourself, though you knew you couldn’t let this ruin a dream trip for you. Your excitement might have died down the minute you met Max at the airport and put two and two together, but you were sure it was mutual, which did make things better. At least he wasn’t particularly amused himself, falling for the exact same trap you fell into.

As if manifested by your own thoughts, his frame appeared on the corner of your eye, big eyelashes adorning his eyes as he stared ahead, almost as if he had no intention of acknowledging you whatsoever. “This is inspired in a poem by Hölderlin. It has the same name and everything. In Lieblicher Bläue. It’s a representation of-” he started, shocking you at first but then angering you just as well.

“I am an art major. I don’t need you to explain this to me” you spat, a fake smile adorning your lips as he looked at you, your annoyance, and chuckled. It was brave of him, you had to admit - to intentionally go out of his way to annoy you by explaining something you were sure he knew you knew. 

Crossing his arms across his chest, his head slightly tipped to the side, he admired how easy it was to get under your skin. He wanted to be nice, to engage in a conversation and try to achieve some type of neutral ground, but he found it impossible to do so. “Since you know so much, why don’t you guide us?” 

The comment came out aggressive and petty, which wasn’t particularly intentional but he also hadn’t made any effort to hide what he felt towards you anymore. You stepped closer to him. It surprised him, how daring you were all of a sudden, but also how much you actually seemed to dislike him, to the point where this was something you did publicly, unashamedly. 

“You want me to guide you?” you asked, whispering while looking up at him. You were smaller than him, his frame towering over you even unintentionally, but that factor didn’t stop you. 

“Sure” he said, swallowing dryly, jaw clenching as the tension between you both rose. The red on the painting seemed to stand out even more and spread on the corner of his vision, inundating the whole painting.

“Okay” you replied, taking two steps back away from him, opening the distance between your bodies, carrying the red color with you as the painting seemed to fill with blue again. But not for long, for you walked and looked at him as if urging him to follow, which he did, curiosity winning against irritation. 

After a couple of steps, you reached the end of a hallway, secluded and stripped of any painting, walls too bare, contrasting with the previous setting.

He was confused. He really didn’t know what you would do next, though this whole scenario just proved you were just as childish about your feelings as he was. “And, to your left you have the exit sign, which will take you right where you belong” you said, moving your arms like a museum guide, overly cartoon-ish on purpose, knowing it would only annoy him more.

“You’re such a child” Max said. Indignation wasn’t something he felt often, yet this time he felt it appropriate. But he was also thankful - thankful that his attempt at being nice didn’t work, for he did not have to pretend to like you for a week when he absolutely did not. “I tried, at least.”

At this, you could only gasp in surprise at his courage to make such a statement. “You tried? By mansplaining a painting? Oh, that's new!” it was almost funny how you two were whispering in shots, or shouting through whispers, the empty hallway echoing your words as if to emphasize them. 

“It’s more than what you’ve done so far! I’m not the one walking around looking all bitter and bratty.”

You stood, motionless, looking at him. His green eyes fixated on yours and burned as if they were scorching red, and as much as you wanted to lash out even more at him, you figured walking away was the best solution. Once again, turning your back on someone in Paris. It had to be done.

“Oh, yeah, walk away. Good luck doing that at the hotel” Max said, the comment a nail in your coffin, a way to affirm that yes, he had won, yes he was right, and the points had been made - you were to avoid each other at all times.

You, however, stopped. His last words echoed in your head. What did he mean, the hotel? The moment you closed the door to your room and he closed the door to his, you two would be out of each other’s sight. So what did he mean by that? That he would annoy you further, being noisy, screaming, to the point where you couldn’t sleep? You were about to ask when you decided that would admit some sort of defeat - asking someone to clarify a point you hadn’t understood in an argument seemed weak, frail and ridiculous to you, so you kept walking, desperate to find your friend again.

“No,” you said when the room card was handed to you. “Fuck no” you kept going, your best friend’s hand raised towards you as she tried to contain a hint of a smile. 

Now you understood Max’s comment. Now you were angrier than ever.

Why did you let your friend handle the hotel reservations? Because you trusted her good judgment. Which was bad judgment from your part, apparently, as she reserved two rooms - one for her and her boyfriend, and one for the friends they brought - you and Max.

“It has TWO beds” she tried convincing you, as Max had already gone up angrily, snatching the card swiftly without saying a word. “I wouldn’t put you two in a king sized bed. I am not crazy” she kept going. 

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded. 

Max prided himself on his fast insticts and reactions to any unforseen events that might come his way. It was probably one of his best traits, one he always mentioned when asked about his favorite psychological aspect of himself.

But all that was put into question as he stood motionless in the middle of the hotel bedroom, towel wrapped lowly around his waist as the air conditioning hit his bare back and he heard the door click open.

He stood in the same place as you closed the door behind you and ran a hand through your hair as you exhaled. He had those brief seconds of you unaware of his presence to hide in the bathroom and get dressed quickly, or lay underneath the covers discreetly. Anything at all.

But he had no time to make a decision as your eyes met his, panic written across his green irises.

You prided yourself on your fast insticts and reactions to any unforeseen events that might come your way. It was probably one of your best traits, one you always mentioned when asked about your favorite psychological aspect.

But all that was put into question when you opened the door to the hotel room and saw a Max's frozen frame, towel wrapped lowly - too lowly, you thought - around his waist, swallowing hard as droplets of water ran across his bare skin.

No thoughts crossed your mind before you cursed, a hard "for fuck's sake" escaping your lips from accumulated stress over the events of the past 24 hours.

This was not how you wanted your trip to go. This was not what you had planned. It wasn't just sleeping in two separate beds.

This proved it clearly.

During this time, Max's brain found the opportunity to adapt to the situation, adopting an arrogant attitude that contrasted from his initial shock.

"Come on, I'm not fucking naked" he said as he turned his back to you, heading to the bathroom.

"You are underneath that towel" you pointed out, starting to follow him before stopping yourself, realizing it was best not to do it. "I mean, you knew I was coming"

You heard him chuckle - really, he made sure you would - and his head and bare shoulder showed up from behind the open door. "Yes. Hence the towel. Otherwise I'd be naked. Which I'm not. Don't be such a child."

You could only throw a middle finger at him in response - one that he found gave him the victory, the upper hand. One that signified the discussion was over and he was right.

He grinned to himself, closing the door as he undid the towel around his waist in order to put on his underwear and a t-shirt.

Max's hand reached for the small hanger where it was placed and his fingers wrapped around nothing. He looked at the empty hanger and then at the floor, completely empty of what he needed the most in that very moment - his boxers.

"Shit. Shit. Shit Shit" he cursed, looking around for an answer. He knew his only choice was to ask you to bring them to him, but he only knew it cost him that final victory he enjoyed so much, his ego and pride mixing with each other to create a selfishness that surprised even him sometimes.

You heard your name being called out from the bathroom. At first you thought you had imagined it, like in horror movies where it seems to be coming from everywhere, but when it sounded again you knew that wasn't the case, though it was equally as terrifying.

You jumped from your bed and went over to the bathroom, ear pressed against the door in search of a sign of danger.

"...Yes?" you asked.

"Can you bring me a pair of boxers? They're in my suitcase. That is if you don't want to see me naked for four seconds while I get them myself."

You groaned loud enough for him to hear, your steps heavier than usual so he could notice your discontentment even if he couldn't see it.

Walking over to his suitcase, you opened its zipper almost carelessly, searching for a pair of underwear in the midst of the collection of same colored t shirts and same fit jeans.

Max was walking around the bathroom like a mad man, realizing how ridiculous this situation was, and how ridiculous it was that he had accepted it without asking who his company would be first. Maybe this was a lesson, yes, from the ghost of vacations future warning him about being careful who to trust, or to spread kindness, or something.

Before he could dive deeper into thoughts of madness, a knock sounded on the door. He grabbed the towel quickly to cover himself, although he did not bother wrapping it around him. He was not planning on opening the door entirely, not after the scene you caused.

As he opened, he saw an outstretched hand - yours - holding a pair of underwear. The fabric dangled in your pointer finger as if it was made of a burning material that you needed to get rid off, and fast.

He grabbed that from you, but as he was closing the door, your arm remained in place.

"I'm childish but you brought like two packs of condoms for this trip?" you said accusingly, and he could hear your smirk, as if you finally had something to hit him with.

"Don't flatter yourself, I didn't know I'd end up with you" he said as he pulled his boxers up and opened the door once again. "Is this less offensive than the towel?"

He was close - closer than you had expected - and though he hid his own surprise at seeing you at the doorframe, he couldn't deny that he didn't exactly measure the consequences of not checking where exactly you were before opening the door so fast.

His chest was close to yours, so close part of him almost felt as if you were touching, the proximity making him feel unbelievably taller than you, though he was sure the difference couldn't be that big.

You tried not to stare. Really, you were trying really hard. But he was so close to you he occupied your entire line of vision, his pale skin appearing so smooth in front of yours, contrasting with the dark color of his underwear - that you unconsciously had picked.

He towered over you, head low so he could look at you in the eyes, though the view wasn't particularly bad from up there. Your pajama top was loose - too loose - in your frame and your shorts were the very definition of the word.

"You wanting to sleep with me would be an insult" you said, moving away from the doorframe so he could pass, though he didn't move, merely crossed his arms across his chest, muscles tensing slightly at that. "And sure. It's an improvement" you continued, staring him up and down - taking his frame in but disguising the act as disdain.

Max's head leaned to the right, a smirk growing on his lips as he realized he got you for a second time. Nonchalantly, eyebrows raised, he decided to act.

"That's not what you said a year ago." There. He had you. And while before this bickering came from a place of anger and hatred, he was growing increasingly more amused at how you matched his own pace.

"Yeah, but that was before you opened your mouth" you retorted, focusing hard - too hard - on his face and not on his body, though it did not help either. His hair was messy and slightly damp from the shower, and his stubble had grown in a way you could only describe as attractive - not perfectly shaved but not entirely messy either.

He bit his lip then, mostly because he knew what to say to you after your words and was trying not to smile. Also because you had admitted to feeling attracted to him, even if only physically, which added to his confidence as he stared at you and ran his eyes down your body. "What's wrong with my mouth?"

You were dumbfounded for a few seconds, mouth opened at the ridiculousness of his comment, what it implied and the line it had crossed. "You're such a piece of shit" you said, while his grin grew to his eyes.

"You want me" he sounded so matter of factly, as if he had commented on the weather or said the sky was blue.

"I hate you."

"Never said you didn't" Max took a step forward towards you, and you found yourself unable to walk away. Something about his deviance pulled you in, and part of your brain told you you could leave, though another tried to convince you you were only staying because this was your room, after all.

"Then how could I possibly want you?" you asked, though it was more directed at yourself than at him this time.

He looked away then, as if the answer was obvious, his body moving closer to you but never touching you, both decreasing and increasing the distance between the both of you.

"You want me but I'm a piece of shit. And that's why you hate me. Because you know, deep down, you still want me to fuck you" as he said this, he moved away, almost as if the conversation had never happened, though it had, just now.

"I don't want you anywhere near me" you tried to sound assertive but part of your voice had failed by how taken aback you were, still wondering if you had imagined his words.

He stopped and turned to you once again, battling his own brain on whether or not he should push you a bit further.

"Define near" he said, as he walked closely towards you, like a predator slowly approaching its prey, defying them.

Your chest rose and fell as he moved, and you found yourself unable to tell him that that was near enough, mostly because it wasn't, not even close.

The back of your legs hit the bed - his bed - and you fell backwards, sitting on it as he moved as close as he could towards you. "Is this near for you?" he asked, though his tone had changed into something darker, raspier and more filled with lust than flirt.

You swallowed, refusing to break eye contact, aware of how you looking up at him provided a view for himself as well.

"Who wants who now, huh?" you asked teasingly, a smile spread across your lips as you noticed his body tensing up - with a bit of anger but maybe a bit of arousal too.

"Is this wanting you?" he asked back, finding your language had moved from insult to rhetoric, questions that needn't answer - not when he could see your eyes shining as they looked up at you from your eyelashes, not as he saw you crossing your legs despite your attempts at discreetness.

You shrugged at his question, not wanting to back down on your claim but also not wanting to give him the chance to refute it.

His hand cupped your face with firmness, holding your stare as he lowered himself towards you, bringing his lips close to yours, so close you felt his skin brushing against yours although he broke away before you could indulge in his initiative.

"What about this?" he asked, testing you now, though he knew the answer himself, felt it in his body as his boxers felt tight against his erection.

"I'm still unsure" you replied, and as if awaiting for that sign to keep going, Max exhaled and ran his hands through your bare thighs, pinching softly at them, causing you to hiss and giggle from his contact.

"Do I have to keep asking?" it was his time now to look up at you, something close to desperation rubbing at him as he knelt between your legs.

"Not if you admit it" you leaned to kiss him, to - admittedly - give him some kind of upper hand, though you weren't sure if you were playing anymore, not as his tongue hungrily explored your mouth, so desperate it was almost sloppy yet so warm and arousing and fulfilling.

"Fucking hell you're stubborn" he managed to let out during the brief instances where you weren't pulling his neck towards you, making sure his lips remained on yours.

His body moved on top of yours as you laid down in his bed, his hips pressing against yours as you felt his cock against you, a moan escaping your lips and a sigh leaving his at the contact.

"Is this, huh?" he asked again, mouth now moving to your neck, kissing it so lightly you shivered, only to bite you afterwards, the sensations overwhelming you with need for him.

Your body felt hot, burning intensely; and Max's body against yours only fueled that, his voice making you feel more than you wanted to admit even to yourself.

You wanted him to feel like you were feeling in that moment - unaware he was already as on the edge of completely losing himself as you were. So you held his hand with yours and brought it in between your legs, allowing him to get his response.

Max had to steady himself. Really, part of his brain froze and only his body worked, mouth watering as he felt how wet you were, mind going completely foggy at the fact that you had done it, at how hot what your simple gesture had been - at how strongly he reacted to it.

His cock was so tight in his boxers it felt almost painful, especially when he knew how comfortable he could be, inside you, feeling your entire body react to him and him alone.

However, he craved to drive you mad as well, convinced you would probably lose your minds together in that hotel room. "Use your words" he said, pulling your shorts down in order to get better access to you.

His fingers teased you gently, brushing over your entrance and pulling away just as you were ready to take them. "Tell me, is this wanting you?" he insisted, his voice breathy and hoarse.

You wished you could answer, could say more than his name which came across as a whine for more of him inside you. It took all your strength to focus, on winning, on seeing him crumble before your eyes, losing his composure which was so so close to fall apart.

You bit your lip while staring at his eyes - once so bright but now so dark, so filled with something you hadn't seen in him before - and took him completely by surprise as you ran your hand across his erection through the fabric of his underwear.

Max closed his eyes and his eyebrows were now close together in an almost frown. "Fuck" were the words he let out as he dropped his head.

"Admit it" you demanded, not only because you wanted to win but because you couldn't wait any longer - you felt empty, his teasing frustrating you to no end.

Without warning, his fingers dipped inside you, filling that emptiness, even if just slightly. He moved them painfully slowly, savoring every inch of your moans as you kept your hand on his hard cock.

You could feel its length and thickness, making your mouth water at the mere thought of having it inside you. You started moving your hips against his fingers, craving more of the pleasure, more of him.

Max was just observing you at that point, how desperate you were for him, how beautiful you looked with flushed cheeks and swollen lips with barely anything being done to you yet.

"I would never admit something like that" his words contrasted so much with his thoughts, but he knew one fed the other both for you and him, this back and forth the main reason why you both felt an incessant pull towards one another.

"You're ridiculous" you managed to reply, though the words came out muffled and confusing, earning you a chuckle in response.

"You're being fucked stupid and I'm ridiculous?" he asked, grinning as he used a hand to removed his boxers, freeing his erection. You couldn't help but whimper at the sight, the sheer anticipation of what was to come, at the opportunity to having him buried inside you.

However, letting him win this easily wasn't something you were willing to do - and though your mind was cloudy and your judgment blurred, you stood on your elbows, face almost touching his. Your hand caressed his tensed arm which kept its movement inside you, and he couldn't help but look at your contact.

You tilted your head, biting your lip as you stared at his face - the desperate attempt at remaining composed, the rosy cheeks and disheveled hair, lips wet and eyes so dark they looked almost black.

"Who's stupid now?" you asked, hot breath against his neck. He could hide many things, but he couldn't control the goosebumps spreading across his entire body, he couldn't hide the way his shoulders tensed even more, how his throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed.

This was thrilling. Maybe too thrilling, if such thing existed. He thought of the painting, of the colours spread across the canvas and somehow, in that moment, that seemed to increase every emotion he was feeling, and he had to close his eyes to control himself and steady his breath.

He had to keep it going. He knew he had to - he knew this was precisely what he wanted, to drive you insane, to keep the tension running across both of you until one exploded.

So he removed his hand from where it was - so comfortable, so hard inside you - and he could see you pout slightly before returning to your previous cold attitude. "You want me to stop, I'll stop" he said, climbing fully on top of the bed, both hands on either side of your head, hovering above you.

"I never said that" you bit back, though it was hard to focus as he started leaving trails of kisses on your neck, going down to your chest, and on your navel, biting your shirt and pulling it - removing the last layer of clothing you possessed.

"Then what do you want?" he asked, face in between your thighs, just above where you wanted him to be buried. Max's grin didn't hide the fact that he knew exactly the answer to this - but, just like you, he was stubborn, loving to hear the words escape your lips, to know that you wanted him to ruin you completely.

His hand now caressed your thigh, fingers softly moving up and down, drawing invisible nothings on your skin.

You fought against your will to just say it, although you wanted to give it up and just admit it. As if reading your thoughts, his eyes pierced yours with amusement as his cheek rested against your thigh, stubble scratching your skin pleasurably. "We don't have all night, sweetheart" he whispered.

The nickname caused your heart to race, but what came out of your mouth was a scoff, arrogance still coating your actual feelings despite the situation you were both in. "You're just as desperate as I am" you told him, lifting your right leg to caress his bag with your foot.

"Desperate for what, hm?" he asked, biting the inside of your thigh as he climbed back up, facing you.

"To fuck me" you finally replied, knowing it was less of an admition and more of a dare.

"Is that what you want me to do? To fuck you?" the question was rhetorical, almost mocking, but at that moment you didn't quite care. Not when the tip of his cock rubbed against you, not when he tried so hard to steady his breath.

You could only nod, carnal insticts getting the best out of you. That was all he needed to let himself go, to let go of all restraints previously holding him back - if there were any.

He sinked inside you slowly, as if to prolong your pain and your pleasure simultaneously, savoring your reactions - your whine of pleasure, your closed eyes and teeth biting your lip, your eyebrows furrowed. You felt and looked so good it took all of his strength to focus on being the stronger, composed person in the room - something he never struggled this hard to achieve.

He dropped his head low, his forehead against yours as he steadied himself. "Fuck" he managed to say, along with a loud exhale. "You feel so fucking good" he continued, words leaving his mouth almost impulsively.

"Then don't stop, Max" you demanded, almost aggressively, as your body ached for more of him.

He pulled himself almost fully out and slammed back inside you, harder now, making you let out a loud whine - one which you rapidly covered by placing your hands over your mouth.

He kept going, hips slamming against yours with a steady rhythm as you uhmed in pleasure, eyes teary already as they rolled to the back of your head.

He wanted to hear you. In fact, he wanted to know others could hear you, hear how good he was making you feel, hear how his cock drove you absolutely insane. With an assertive movement, his hand grabbed yours and pulled it away from your mouth, then held your cheeks tightly as he made you look at him.

"Don't cover your mouth" he ordered, hungrily, feeling you tighten around him as he said it. "Let everyone hear how well you take it" he continued, speeding up his pace and laying on top of you as you wrapped your hands around his waist, caging him.

"F-fuck, Max" you started, unable to resist much longer, feeling his hot body against yours, your hands pulling his hair as he moved almost animalistically, so focused on your sounds he could only get off to them.

"You sound so pretty" Max growled, close to exploding as well. "So fucking hot" he continued, and you had to bury your teeth in his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming - all you could let out was his name as you felt him inside you, and his hips rolled against you, unmatched amounts of pleasure running through you.

"I'm so close, Max, I'm so close" you said, not realizing how often his name was being uttered by you, how it seemed like one of the few words you had left to say.

Driven to a state of total lack of control, Max let moans escape his own lips, his animal vulnerability resulting in your own orgasm.

Feelings you tighten and pulsing around his cock was the tipping point for him, as his body shuddered, pulling himself out of you as fast as he could.

“Open your mouth” he said, gesturing at you to sit back. You did as he demanded, still drunk from your orgasm, still completely at his mercy, and he came finally, warm come filling your mouth.

The view was Max’s dream come true - your mouth wide open and filled with him, so obediently taking his orders and so beautifully contrasting with your previous attitude. 

“Now swallow” he said, tapping your cheeks slightly with his hand as you closed your mouth and did as he said, the slightly salty flavour filling your tastebuds.

You laid down on his bed, exhausted and completely fulfilled, while also dizzy with the amount of emotions running through your head. You closed your eyes, but felt and heard him laying down next to you, his arm brushing yours shyly now. 

“Was that close enough?” he asked.

[formulakracing]

the (not so subtle) art of a crush - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 777

warnings: toto being down bad, some teasing, sexual innuendos, one-sided yearning, yadayadayada

a/n: this was a request made by an anon (i believe!) this is also sort of a spin-off of fanboy behavior, which i absolutely adored writing. i think yearning (and well.. down bad) toto is my favorite toto to write! i hope y'all enjoy! <3

"and tell me," the driver's accent is crisp as he licks his lips, "why do you need help creating an instagram account again?"

"nothing major," a figure shrugs, fiddling with a loose thread in his wrinkled white polo, "i just want to stay in the loop. that's all."

"toto," a new voice chimes in, "you have never once mentioned wanting an instagram, or any social media really, until now. what is going on?"

"nothing major," toto wolff exhales, rolling his eyes, "you all have it, so why can't i?"

"because you're ancient?" lewis hamilton scoffs, arching a brow, "you're probably going to need a step-by-step tutorial on how to navigate the platform."

"i think i can figure that one out myself you know," toto hisses, jaw clenching as his drivers stare blankly, "if five year-olds can do it, i can do it."

"let me see your phone," george russell extends an arm, waving his fingers, "i'll get your account set up."

"i-i," the team principal stammers, heat billowing into his cheeks, "i-i don't know if i necessarily need help with that."

"are you blushing?" lewis purses his lips, a devious smirk forming as the dots connect, "mate, do you have something in there that you don't want us to see?"

only approximately one hundred and two screenshots of a certain williams driver. three or four videos. all of which were screen recordings from various interviews.

his cherished clips. ones he watched every night before he drifted off.

all of which were not tucked away into the hidden folder of his camera roll.

speaking of which, he may have to figure out how to do that. with three kids, an ex-wife, and two nosy drivers, his phone was an easy target. he probably needed to set up a passcode as well.

the lengths he was going to over a crush. a fucking crush.

well, was it a really a crush?

or more like an infatuation?

that was a question for another time. he had two drivers in his office at the moment, circling around him like vultures, eager to pick him apart.

"nothing of your interest," toto retorts, in a vain attempt to maintain his composure, "nothing, really."

"got someone's nudes in there?" lewis coos, tilting his head, "or even worse, a sex tape?"

"lewis," george brings a hand to his temple, "what on earth is wrong with you?"

"what, mate?" lewis throws his hands in the air, "i'm just giving him shit."

"shit he clearly does not want," george mutters, "toto, if you need help setting up an account, just facetime me. don't try to text me. it's much easier to explain over a call than written directions."

"or he can just go on wikihow," lewis offers, "they have guides on just about everything."

oh, really?

did they have a guide on how to navigate the unbearable weight of yearning for a woman thirty years your junior? a woman on a rival team? a crush so bad that it was beginning to snake its way into every aspect of your life? consume your every waking thought?

a crush so intense that you had already spoken to members of the williams crew?

his next target was james, whom he was planning on meeting and speaking with after the next press conference. that was in about a week's time, at third grand prix of the season.

fuck, this was embarrassing, really.

but he wanted more.

actually, he needed more.

he craved it.

he needed to gather all of the possible information and intel as he could. her likes and dislikes. her favorite foods and the ones that were so vile they made her throw up. what kept her up at night. what music she preferred to listen to on race day. what drinks she indulged in. what animals she loved. what made her so unbelievably pissed off she couldn't think straight.

he wanted to catch a glimpse inside of her mind.

all of the things that could possibly buzz around inside of that beautiful head.

really, he just wanted to learn what she was composed of.

her childhood memories, the ones she spoke of with that sweet fondness in her voice. the delicate aspects of her life that she cherished, beaming from ear to ear. the things she feared. how she expressed her love. the people she adored.

everything.

he wanted to know it all.

and following her instagram account, along with her various other socials would prove to be the first step in accessing that plethora of information.

at least it was a step in the right direction.

even if his drivers were giving him hell for it.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ taglist ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

@noooway555 @s-awturn @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @lokideservesahug @fore45fore @eattothebeatt @statuewoman @sarah10r-blog @lavenderandlace @racecardilfs @bblouifford @irishmanwhore @jhobi18 @roseandtulips @simply-the-best23

[odileeclipse]

hii! could you do a smc x fem!reader x vp (poly bcs why not) who wears a kimono always bcs of her culture and could you possibly write their reaction to reader wearing casual clothes for just one day? ty!! a mini scenario and some hcs will do

The absence of your kimono’s weight feels almost unnatural, like stepping onto a stage without a costume. Even though you chose this, the shift is unsettling. You pause at the doorway, fingers twitching slightly at the unfamiliar fabric against your skin. Pure Vanilla Cookie is the first to notice, his eyes widening just a fraction before softening into something unreadable tender, but thoughtful. He closes the book in his lap without a word, standing up and approaching you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “You…” His voice is barely above a whisper, reverent in a way that makes your stomach twist. Then, as if remembering himself, he exhales a quiet chuckle. “You look beautiful.” He reaches out, fingertips brushing the sleeve of your clothes not judging, just feeling, as if confirming you’re real. “Does it feel alright?” His concern isn’t about the change itself, but about you. Before you can answer, laughter spills from the shadows, light and almost mocking. “Well, well, well.” Shadow Milk Cookie lounges against his staff, a smirk curling his lips. “Has the grand illusionist finally cast aside their veil? Or is this just another trick?” He paces around you, slow and deliberate, like a cat circling something just out of reach. “I have to say, I never imagined I’d see you like this. It’s… disorienting.”

He tilts his head, studying you with his ever-watchful, mismatched eyes. Then, in a hushed whisper, he leans in close. “You look like someone I could almost mistake for ordinary.” The way he says it like it’s some kind of inside joke, a riddle only he understands sends a shiver down your spine. Pure Vanilla sighs, shaking his head but smiling nonetheless. “Shadow Milk, must you always be so dramatic?” “Must you always be so predictable?” Shadow Milk Cookie retorts with an easy grin. “Come now, I was the one blindsided today. Don’t I deserve a moment of theatrical grief?” You roll your eyes, finally finding your voice. “It’s just for today.” “Ah, so the stage resets tomorrow. Good, good.”

“But, I must admit… seeing you like this? I do like surprises.” His smile is sharp but genuine, like he’s enjoying this new puzzle you’ve given him. Pure Vanilla squeezes your hand, anchoring you in the moment. “No matter what you wear,” he says softly, “you’re still you. And I’ll always love you.” Shadow Milk Cookie hums, expression unreadable. “Hmm. I’d say something similar, but that would ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?” Even as he teases, there’s something else in his gaze, something thoughtful, almost possessive. He won’t admit it, but he likes knowing he’s seen you like this when no one else has.

Head canons

💛 Pure Vanilla Cookie

Doesn’t hesitate to reassure you. His first reaction isn’t shock it’s deep admiration.

Gently asks if you feel okay, not because he dislikes the change, but because he wants to know if you’re comfortable.

Loves the beauty of tradition but also loves seeing you explore new things.

If you’re uncertain, he’ll remind you, “You’re still yourself, and that’s what matters.”

His favorite thing isn’t the clothes it’s you.

🃏 Shadow Milk Cookie

Immediately makes a show of it. You’ve given him something new to latch onto, and he will not waste the opportunity.

Theatrical grief? Oh, absolutely. “My dear, I feel as though I have lost something irreplaceable!”

Won’t admit he actually thinks you look good at least, not outright.

The idea of you stepping outside of expectations? He loves it. You’ve intrigued him all over again.

A/N I finally got around to proof reading this enjoy <3

[horlzonline]

Decided to go crazy go stupid today and pump out a sketch page of my Rich Cheese Cookie instead of adulting! Yay! Anyways, I’m finally starting to get used to drawing her, though I just can’t settle on color placement… So you get monochrome artwork for now. One of these sketches in particular is inspired by something @browhyihatethis said—they’ll probably know which one. And of course, as per usual, I’ll include some fun stuff about her on this post to give more context to the drawings, too.

- As an adult, Rich Cheese Cookie typically goes by Gilded Gouda Cookie. This is primarily because where she lives (somewhere in or near the land of spice perhaps) is rampant with thievery and all negative forms of greed—that is, no one with ‘rich’ in their name is going to be wandering around out there unbothered. The implication of ‘gilded’ as opposed to ‘rich’ is that all of her shine (or what little is left of it) is simply for show; there’s nothing of true value present to steal for oneself. Though initially a pseudonym, she eventually grows into the name and ends up keeping it.

- In a meta sense, the name is deliberately parallel to Golden Cheese Cookie (Gilded = Golden, Gouda = Cheese), and can be considered symbolic of her relationship with both her mother and her own sense of identity over time. Items that are gilded only have a surface-level shine, being veiled by a very thin layer of gold leaf that is virtually worthless if stripped away. Things that are gilded often do not have much of any inherent material value when compared to something made of solid gold. To discover that what was thought to be a golden treasure was so only on the outside… Why, that would undoubtedly be a little more than disappointing, wouldn’t it? However, the process of gilding itself is extremely intricate and time-consuming, making the true value of a gilded treasure not what it’s made out of, but the time, effort, and skill that went into creating it. Gilded items are often unique pieces—works of art in their own right. The paper-thin gold adorning them, on its own, isn’t worth much; the gilded piece itself, however, can nonetheless be priceless. Take that as you will.

- As a child, Rich Cheese Cookie very much made an effort to channel her mother’s bold, confident energy in effort to imitate her. Though the confidence wasn’t actually her own, she hadn’t really encountered any true threats before, so borrowing her mother’s attitude without any actual skill or power to back it up wasn’t an issue. This illusion of confidence shattered, however, when Dark Enchantress’s forces invaded the Golden Cheese Kingdom. Though she was frightened, Rich Cheese Cookie actually did attempt to fight for the kingdom, as her mother would have—an act of childish foolishness that got her tossed roughly into one of the palace’s pillars within moments. Frightened and disoriented, she had lost hold of her weapon, facing down horde of beasts many times her size. Her body was shaking; her breath quickened; something warm and wet crept sluggishly down her face. Her only choice was to run further into the palace. She never stopped running.

- Gilded Gouda Cookie can be fairly standoffish at times and slow to trust anyone—if that wasn’t already obvious. This can lead to her coming off as stern or aggressive if you catch her at the wrong moment, even though what she’s actually feeling internally is closer to anxiety or extreme wariness. Some may even believe that she actively dislikes them for an extended period of time, only to find out later that she never actually had any negative opinions about them to begin with. She simply didn’t know them well enough to feel safe being friendly.

- The emotions she feels when encountering her mother again after so long are incredibly complex. After all, at this point, she’s been without her mother longer than she’s had her around. On the one hand, she is of course very glad to see her, though the shame and sense of inferiority she carries, alongside the imaginary, childlike vision of Golden Cheese Cookie that she held onto for so long to comfort herself, makes almost her wish that her mother had remained only a fond memory—at least initially. It doesn’t help that the golden sovereign has not seen her daughter since childhood and, as a result, still sees and treats her like a child when she is very much a grown adult. Personally, I imagine that Golden Cheese Cookie is the kind of parent to give what she views as advice, only for it to come off as demeaning or critical to an adult child, which is extremely frustrating to Rich Cheese Cookie, now Gilded Gouda Cookie (a name that her mother frequently forgets to use, or even ignores at first). On top of this, Golden Cheese Cookie appears to operate on the assumption that her daughter will merely return to the kingdom now as if nothing happened… but she’s built her own life in her mother’s absence and fears returning to the place she couldn’t protect. There’s a whole lot to unpack there.

- It takes some serious misunderstandings and conflict before Golden Cheese Cookie realizes what her daughter wants and needs from her: acceptance of who she is now, and acknowledgement of what happened to her all those years ago. The latter is something Gilded Gouda Cookie does her best to forget and push away, but in doing so she neglects the scared little kid that’s still inside of her—the same little kid who cried day and night for her mother after losing everything, only to receive no answer. For so many years, all she wanted was for Golden Cheese Cookie to be there; now she can be, even if it’s seriously overdue. Gilded Gouda Cookie may be grown, but she nonetheless needs permission to be her mother’s child again. Understanding, at least for the two of them, starts with, “You must have been so scared…”

- Golden Cheese Cookie eventually has to make the tough decision to let her daughter go yet again, allowing her to live her own life and choose to return to the kingdom if, and only if, she is ever ready to. She ultimately does, of course, bringing a lot of people she’s met (who are at this point sick of hardship) to the land of abundance with her—though until that happens, Golden Cheese Cookie makes sure to send frequent letters and gifts by cheesebird… The poor things end up progressively carrying heavier and heavier gifts until her daughter literally has to ask her to please, PLEASE reconsider what she’s sending. More food and fewer precious metals is always preferable.

- On a more positive note, Gilded Gouda Cookie’s favorite food is a bit of an ironic one. Despite being a royal and having access to the finest cuisine during her childhood, she came to enjoy the street food found at small stands throughout the city more than the finest cheese dishes her mother favored so. One particular stand always made the snack she loved most perfectly—a golden-brown pastry filled with delicious cheese and drizzled with natural honey for a sweet and savory combo that couldn’t be beat! Given her current position, as well as the state of the kingdom itself, she hasn’t had one in many years… but all it takes is one bite to bring her back home.

- Golden Cheese Cookie absolutely sent photos of her daughter as a dough ball baby to her friends and colleagues. She unfortunately lost a lot of baby pictures in the Dark Flour War, but if you ask her, she might still have some digitized…

___________

Was gonna write more, but ran out of steam. Gah. Maybe I’ll get into the key differences between the mentalities of Gilded Gouda Cookie and Golden Cheese Cookie eventually… In short: Golden Cheese Cookie fights because she sees what there is to gain, while Gilded Gouda Cookie fights because she sees what there is to lose. Tune in next time (if there is one)! ✌️

[yaoipologist]

i think it's a bit ridiculous how often i see people just blatantly wrong about grian in third life so i wanted to make a post saying my opinion:

it's so incredibly obvious to me that grian wants to be with scar. the initial deal - my life for your life - was made By Grian. it was offered and freely given. scar was wary talking to grian while the deal was being made because he thought grian was going to fucking kill him again. swearing fealty to him was not scar's idea, it was entirely grian's, made of his own free will.

immediately afterwards, grian does a full 180 and is very open about how much he dislikes being with scar and being tied to him. he tells everyone that scar is crazy, tries to disrupt his small plans that he disapproves of, even yells at him about what he wears ("put your clothes back on!"). it seems like it's a fight, like he disapproves of scar's every action and is being dragged along as an unwilling participant.

but grian doesn't leave. he doesn't go to other people for help leaving the situation, despite them offering. he warns people about scar knowing full well that scar knows what he's doing and is in full earshot (and laughs at scar's comments about it when they're alone). despite the deal allowing for his release, his loyalty to scar does not shake until the very end, no matter how much he complains.

and scar is not some cruel jailer. scar is absurdly nice and almost gentle with grian. "can we still be friends?" while handing him flowers, carrying him around on pizza's back, doing everything he can to make him laugh, always going along with his setups. scar never treats him like a vassal and instead treats him like a dear friend. it's clear that scar has genuine affection for grian, even as a red life. even if grian got in that situation unwillingly, scar doesn't use him like that.

if anything, there's an argument to be made that grian uses scar to get away with his own schemes. very often he not-so-subtly nudges scar to give him the go-ahead to kill. grian is very particular about rules and this season is no exception; he toes the line very carefully between what he's allowed to do and what he isn't, and crosses that line frequently for his own gain. he is the deadliest player that season by a mile, not in the least because scar lets him be.

but like i said, scar plays right along with it. he gladly becomes the partner in grian's explosive schemes and always backs him up, even when grian fails to always back HIM up. scar is more than willing to play the part of facilitator. he's not trapped either.

watching with all this in mind and the understanding that the characters aren't speaking exactly what they mean (because why would they? that's never been the case with fiction!), we understand that there is something more going on here. grian is not telling the truth when he says he does not like his partnership with scar, and looking at the way they actually act, it's pretty obvious he genuinely cares for and treasures him.

this is part of what makes video game roleplay so difficult to talk about - the medium allows unreliable narrators to lie directly to the audience's faces, where we tend to most believe them. subtleties in the storytelling can get lost if you take it all at face value and the real diamonds end up being seen as just shiny rocks.

i think it's very clear the swearing fealty thing was an excuse for grian to get close to scar. i don't doubt he actually felt bad about scar's first death, but i do doubt that it was the only motivation for teaming with him. if he was only there because he felt bad, he would not act the way he did. he wanted to be there, at least a little bit, from the very beginning.

(as always, this is an analysis of a piece of fiction that happened to be made in minecraft. none of this has any relevance to real world relationships. this is like dungeons and dragons to me and i will treat it as such)