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#'Fair' may have had some influence
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i think some of takeuchis art is really good and some of it is bad. is that an acceptable stance or is having a non-dichotomous opinion considered passé/wishy washy
#some of it is stiff and some of it is really charming#the simple stuff is really iconic but when he tries more complex designs it easily falls into looking goofy#he does make some really good expressions. it isn’t just olga and kagetora casotria had like 100 of them#like idk I feel like just saying ‘he’s a good artist’ or ‘he’s a bad artist’ is too simplistic#he has strengths and weaknesses and I think some of the issue is as a founding member of tm his weakness become in jokes that are encouraged#(Ie saberfaces)#rather than ignored or worked on#bc tbh a lot of anime art styles give everyone very similar faces but drawing attention to it does make people actually notice it far more#than if they had said nothing (like w artists like wada or nakahara)#most digital artists do reuse assets! but he has both a lot of visibility and a lot of influence in his company so people pick apart#his art for that stuff way more which isn’t really fair but at the same time#isn’t helped by the ongoing stuff w saberfaces etc#and he does need to have someone overseeing some of his designs to make sure they look good. like w Jeanne’s idol dress or 3rd summer outfit#i don’t think he’s a bad artist or designer I just think he could use more editing/less free reign on some cases if that makes sense#and idk. i do really like some of his art. castoria’s fa is really pretty#and sure he may have assistants but I’m fairly certain a lot of the prominent artists do…?#I’ll be honest and say I find his older art more lively#his newer art is much more polished but feels squarer#idk. idk I’m tired I guess#DOES THIS MAKE SENSE??? should I even post it#my post
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azulsluver · 2 months
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Ur bully au is so good I could slurp it up but it got me wondering
How would all the students react to the reader just. trying to kill themselves because of the endless torment? would they keep harassing? would they say something about it? or would they tone it down? I must know because If I was in that situation i know damn well unaliving myself would be the first option
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There’s more than one asking but ima just get this over with
tw. yandere, attempted suicide, suicide, cutting, bully!characters, mentioned torture, humiliation, blood, slight gore, neglection, fucked up reader (deadass).
Here are some thoughts and reactions bellow!
When asking, what role does this character do in this so called ‘bully!au’? You have to look at a deeper perspective of how each person behaves, what the intention is, and how it’s done.
So when the subject of suicide is involved it can get confusing depending on what caused it. Self worth is hinted in the reader, insecurities are brought and laughed at because it needs to hit a spot. Because YOU have feelings, watching it be stripped by people in far greater power than you, people with money, influence, and within number. Standing up to a bully is difficult, the struggles you go through should’ve been realistic.
When push comes to shove, they’re not all coming for you. If you enjoy the idea of every character ruining your life— that’s fine— but, it’s usually one or three. I think it’s childish, when I first made this AU, some sort of amusement in finding hurt but comfort when writing, they’re not trying to kill you, you know. You just catch their eye, more than they could like. Rejection is one thing, but another is a fair game of a sadistic approach. Whether they verbally or physically abuse you is up to place bets on what kills you.
For NRC years, yes, they constantly nagged and followed you around. But the times they would actively seek you out would be less than you think, the focus on bullying would be isolation. They don’t have to hurt you everyday. Some time for yourself to heal and think over your situation. What would you eat? Would they play nice and ignore you for tonight? Did your look piss off someone from afar? Let them cheat off you! Don’t be such a bore, it’ll all go back to just you and Grim.
If you picked up self harming, it’s noticeable. Hiding it is nearly impossible. They grab and bite at you already so what makes you think hiding was a good idea? It’s nasty and unplanned, miss them? Miss their touch that you havta recreate it? It’s horrible to mention, but caring really depends on who calls you out.
I can say you like it. Or you fucking hate it. You hate, hateee, how they treat you. You crawl on all fours for them to laugh and pat your head, do a dare and lick off from their hand but money is involved.
What did you do, was it simple, messy, perfect headshot if you will. If your need to die was to simply hurt them in any way— it might work. Poor them, they can’t imagine being away from you for too long. Some are more uninterested than the others. Who gives a shit you died? Whoever had the luck of finding you, dead or in the act, serves a purpose of letting you live or die. Cruel as they may be, you tug at a couple of heart strings.
Let’s say it was an attempt:
Sprang into action, either holding you down or taking whatever object you’re using to harm yourself. They’re gonna make sure this doesn’t happen again, you gave them quite the spook. Have fun being watched 24/7, and if they couldn’t, everything will be baby proofed for your safety, isn’t that nice, they care. Thrash all you want, screaming and crying won’t get you anywhere, but they’ll bite their tongue once and a while to prevent this from happening.
Trey, Riddle, Azul, Vil, Jack, Deuce, Sebek,
Oohh…he’s so sorry. Please forgive him, crying on his knees and rubbing his head against your chest. It doesn’t matter if the blood stains his clothes, you nearly died and he feels awful. He promises so many times for harm to look the other way, twisted, yet unavoidable. Trapped in a tight, monitored schedule were his scent and voice is all you’ll ever need. But at least there’s a change of heart, your health is improving and that’s all that matters to him, but speak to him, he wants to hear you.
Silver, Malleus, Kalim
Should he have stopped you, but what good will it do for him? Frozen in the moment, their bodies do the thinking, rational, to prevent you from escaping them. You’re funny, reaaal funny, got good jokes at time. But, he’s not really laughing. A little, but it’s hysterically funny and scary. Because he’s still so rough, even when he apologizes yet calls you stupid, his fingers hurt you more than whatever you had planned, gripping, as if you really died.
Jamil, Ace, Cater, Ruggie, Leona, Idia, Floyd, Epel
Does it hurt? Did you find your ulna? Was the rope too tight? It feels like he’s only here to see the end credits, the finale. The sick fuck is smiling too, gross. Giving up just leaves you with him by your side, pressing it deeper to help you get the job done…just kidding! That was quite a show you put on, this is why he likes you. Being responsible of another’s cause of death isn’t ideal, so he’ll try to watch you as of now.
Lilia, Rook, Jade
From that list alone you can guess who’s to mourn, and who savors what is left. Death is inevitable. Everyone dies one way.
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abnerkrill · 1 year
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fantastic rebuttal to "writers don't deserve better pay because the stuff they write is terrible/unoriginal", full thread here
(to explain, the "Unknown" under his name is from a add-on bot detector; it usually can assign a percentage likelihood that a user is a human being and not a bot, but I think the blue check system disrupted the add-on so it says "Unknown" underneath his name now.)
[image id under the read more:
May 7, 2023 tweet thread from Tom Vaughan @/storyandplot
With #WGAStrong rightfully in the spotlight this week, I've seen some less-than-sympathetic comments focusing on the lack of originality in our projects. This is a fair criticism of the system, but not the writers. A quick history of how we got here (thread emoji)
The first thing to understand is that Hollywood has NOT run out of new ideas. The studio’s preference for I.P. has nothing to do with regurgitating ideas and everything to do with MARKETING.
The late 60s-70s is generally considered the artistic high of the studio system. Ironically, many contribute this to corporations buying up the studios! The corporations knew they had no idea how to run a movie studio, so... they put creative people in charge.
This is how you got the run of so many great films the studios would never make today. They also took bigger chances on young, promising talent (the first "film school generation" of filmmakers.)
But with the success of JAWS and STAR WARS, the corporations demanded more of those kinds of hits. The creative folks insisted such things were unpredictable, and the business folks said let's make them less so.
(Sidenote: This was also the same time a completely different phenomenon was happening. A/C was becoming the norm for theatres, making summer movie-going much more attractive.)
Over the next decade, more and more MBAs and marketing people gained influence in the studio system. Being business folks, huge hits were not a creative problem as much as a product/marketing problem.
The 80s is when the “high concept” became pre-eminent because it narrowed a sales pitch to one sentence, a trailer, and a poster. This made everyone a marketing agent for a movie because everyone could explain what it was about!
In the 90s, marketing became just as important as the film itself (reflected in their respective budgets) when Hollywood discovered they could profit from fifty years of pre-existing awareness for old TV shows and movies.
This allowed the marketing department to move away from pitching a movie and convincing you to go see it (lower success rate), to simple “audience awareness” and building anticipation. (higher success rate.)
The audience knew what THE FLINSTONES the movie was. They just needed to know the casting and when it opened. No one needed to have the remake of GODZILLA explained to them. They just needed to know when it opened.
The marketing department prefers AWARNESS over SELLING because awareness is something you can throw money at. Selling is harder, and it’s less predictable. This is why franchises are so valuable.
Whenever someone says, “That’s something I can sell!” It’s usually something that can sell itself. What they mean is, "I just have to let people know about this!"
Hollywoods's reliance on property the audience is already familiar with is 100% because... the audience is already familiar with it. It is easier to market the product and this increases its chances of success.
This focus on I.P. has become so pervasive, many, including executives themselves, have forgotten WHY it's valuable. They'll option an unknown comic BECAUSE it's I.P., forgetting that it's unknown and lacks the main asset of I.P.
Writers do love writing on an I.P. that means something to them. Every Star Wars fan who became a filmmaker would love to work in that universe. But we do not love it more than our own original work. We would always rather work on that.
So when you see another remake, or reboot, or adaptation, and think, "Can't they come up with something new?"
Remember, the answer is yes. Yes, we can. And we want to. You can blame the market or the marketing, but either way, the widespread production of truly original content is just not the studio business model we're in right now. #WGAStrong
end ID.]
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silken-moonlight · 4 months
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The stag fae
A/N: I love the fae folk. I had this little idea while walking my dogs in the forest. This will maybe get a part two. I hope you like it! - Moon/Swan
Imagine taking a little stroll through the woods, wearing a pretty dress and perhaps taking some pictures. You walk alongside a small river, deciding to bathe your feet. You wade through the water, just being happy.
Suddenly, on the deeper end of the water, you see a stag trying to swim to safety, but it seems exhausted and unable to escape the flow. Without a second thought, you rush after it, but the stream grips you, pulling you underwater. You swim for your life and see the stag. You grip it. Placing its head on your shoulder, the antlers caught your hear and poked your skin. Finally you get hold of a branch, finally able to get the two of you out of there.
You never let go of the stag for even a moment, whispering, "We're going to be okay..." as you tried to get the both of you to a shallower area. Your arms hurt, you were cold, but somehow you managed to keep going and dragged both of you to where you could both stand. You waded out of the water, both collapsing onto the riverbed. Before you knew it, you fell unconscious. Everything turning to black...
When you woke up again, you were in a bed. Everything Was hurting. But you were not cold anymore. Had somebody found you? What about the stag? Poor thing must have been so scared and exhausted. Slowly you sat up and looked around.
"Wife! You have awoken! No, no, you have to rest..." A voice said, and suddenly a man came into your sight. You blinked many times to see if your eyes were betraying you. The man in front of you had antlers. Antlers. Surely you must be mistaken, and it's some sort of headband. You didn't even hear what he said. He took that as a good sign and was at your side. Grabbing a wooden cup and bringing it to your lips:"Drink drink...." You obeyed, realising how dry your throat was.
"Where is the stag…?" you asked in a hoarse voice. The man grinned. "That's me! You saved me! Now you will be my wife. Nothing else could prove your love for me more than jumping into the river and risking your life. I am so happy to have a wife like you!" You stared at him in absolute disbelief. "You're...you're kidding me," you said. He chuckled, sitting down on the bed as you backed away. "Silly human...I am not." You stared at him, in shook and confusion.
"May I have your name?" he asked sweetly. "M-my name is Y/N..." you answered, unaware that you had just given away any possibility of escape. He chuckled even more now. "You're mine, forever. Has nobody taught you to be wary of the far folk?" You stared at him in utter disbelief. "Fae?" you asked, finally wrapping your mind around it.
"Fae, fair folk, wandering people... We have many names... I am a wood fae. I take the form of a stag. And now that you have given me your name, you will be mine forever." He whispered sweetly as he grabbed your hand and kissed your palm. You quickly understood that you were in a very difficult situation. You knew a few things about the fae, remembering what you had read in your childhood.
It did not help that he was strangely attractive, and that he smelled so good....also your partner had broken up with you just a week ago....and you hated your job....maybe you should stay? Or was this the fae influence making you think this?
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adkawariatka · 5 months
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I can’t stop thinking about this idea soooo here is another part.
In hindsight Tim really shouldn’t have worked himself so much about that friend of Damian. Why you might think? Becouse spying your brother’s friend is an invasion of his privacy? Or just creepy? Or maybe its unfair towards said brother and his friend? No. No Tim problem was much more human shaped. He did plan to be subtle but with DAMIAN. Not with his very annoying and moral older brother. When Dick found him in Bat Cave in his work trance and asked him what he was doing…. Tim just told him, damn his one track focus. It earned him a lecture about privacy, respect and morals….So he was forbidden from any camera videos in areas that Damian met his misterious friend. He felt so frustrated when he tried to explain his worries to Dick and he called him paranoid… which fair he may be sometimes fixated on some cases and a little suspicious of everything too… normal. But Dick was just so happy about the information that Damian had a friend, that he did not think about the fact that other normal 10 year old would never be able to talk with Damian about complicated emotion problems … let alone how to solve them. The time of Damian working on friends mission, Or differently meeting with some stranger, and changing his behaviours at manor lined. SO that someone needed to talk with Damian about his social problems. The only logical way of explaining the „condinience” would be if that person was someone older. Old enough to understand social interactions to the level that allowed them to introduce it to Damian. It painted disturbing picture to Tim. Some Creep manipulating his younger brother. It can lead to a disaster not only for Damian but all the Waynes. What if he will Trust that person and tell them their secret? The talk with Damian only opened his eyes that above all the training the kid had he was still just that: a kid. The only thing that Dick advised him was to go and talk with Damian. Which ok, last time went well but…. he might at least try.
-
Tim did not wanted to believe that it was that easy. Of course he didnt start to snoop about the friend yet…. But just interacted with Damian. First time was really akward but they got past it. Tim still cringes at the memory:
It was after patrol they were changing in to civilian clothes. Tim was battling with his thoughts how to start conversation when Damian started to pull out his equipment for sharpening his katana. And he thoght that it is as good subject as any other.
-how long does it take to sharpen it?
Damian stopped what he was doing and gazed at him warly. They stood in complete silence long enough to be uncomfortable. Tim started to think that it was mistake when Damian broke the silence.
-do you…want to see?
And Tim did want. It turned out that it was great idea. Damian talked for almost an hour about granuality of sandpaper used to sharpen his katana, different kinds of oils and even how to storage it properly. Tim was impressed by detailed knowledge and experienced movements. That was his first full Blown conversation with Damian and it was great.
After that they interacted with each other more and more outside of patrols. They weren’t conversations of utter importance, but Tim got fond of them. More often than not it revolved around things as trivial as favourite books, school, fight techniques Or even hobbies. If Tim was being honest he did not Think that Damian would ever talk about such topics. In the past he often expressed his annoyance at information of this type, but not anymore. Tim suspected that it was the influence of his „friend”. However among those unsuspecting subjects Damian sometimes asked questions that worried Tim.
One of the untold rules of their interactions were that they never talked about the „deep stuff”. Which was why he was so surprised by sudden change of topics during unsuspecting conversation about donating clothes to Damian school, which by the way he was doing things like that now. Without any warning he heard question:
- when you were living in Darke manor were you… lonely?
That was weird question to ask without warning. But… was Damian worried about him? Or was he feeling like he has no one close? But there was also second aspect: From beggining of their interactions they avoided any subjects that Tim was prying for and here Damian was offering it on silver platter. He was not going to waste that chance.
-hmmm… well I was young and alone for most of the time so yes I was
Damian seemed to mull over that information. After short pause he started
- What did you do to feel better?
- I mostly tried to take my mind elsewhere. I cooked, cleaned, studied, went around making photos of Batman in the middle of the night… but I wouldn’t recommend that to anyone. Oh and I read many many books. But you know the best option is to go to people that care for you.
- that seems acceptable.
After that Damian came back to the previous subject. Tim felt a little dumbfounded. He couldn’t shake the impression that he was the one grilled for information in this situation.
Not long after that memorable conversation Damian started going to library very often. Tim was now seriously worried. Did Damian felt lonely? Did he actually think that he has no one. It didn’t seat with Tim right. He doesn’t mean that he was uneasy with Damian trying to help himself… it was more about the fact that he was doing it wrong… he had Dick and Bruce, Alfred, his supposed friend… hell Tim was right here! He thought that their relationship was better. He thought… he doesn’t know what he felt but he was damn upset about it. If Damian does not came to Tim then he will come to him. When he passed library third time that week and Damian was there picking books he decided that it was enough.
When he entered Damian was standing on a small stool picking books from the shelf high above his head. Tim walked to the stack of already picked ones and went through their titles
- I didn’t know you were interested in astrology… or maths and physics
- I am not
Replayed Damian without the beat of hestitation. Tim looked at him as if he grown second head.
-then… why did you choose those books? I can help you find some about katanas or animals
- I appreciate the offer but I do not require your assistance.
Tim stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, while Damian apparently found what he was looking for and got of the stool. He turned around and meet Tim’s unsure eyes. In his hand he held huge brown book with constellations on the cover. Damian studied him for a moment.
- Drake
- Damian IF I can somehow help…
Cut in Tim trying to act as a responsible older brother. Where the hell was dick when he was needed. He was the emotional one. His small breakdown was interrupted by Damian words:
- Timothy I don’t know what inaccurate conclusion you created but whatever you are thinking is wrong
It sounded only a little as an insult. That’s progress but it does not solve his problem.
- Damian if you look for a way to feel better…
Tim trailed off God he was awful at this. He had problems processing his feelings how was he supposed to untangle Damian’s?!
- Ancients Those books are not for me.
Tim stared dumbfounded. Who the hell were ancients and if books weren’t for Damian then…
-they are for Danny
Ok Tim did not know from when did Damian started using nicknames, or who was Danny but he started to have his suspicions. Who did Damian became close lately? To the mysterious friend. It was not difficult from there.
-soooo Danny told you he was lonely?
Tim swears that if some creep is trying to pry on his little brother developing compassion then he is going to make sure he will pay for it very high price. He needs as much information as he can get.
- No he did not. But I observed that…his mood drops whenever we had gone longer without seeing each other…. Your advise seems to help
Huh. Tim did not expect that. However that does not seem that it is not manipulation either. Danny might be playing the victim to ensure that Damian trusts him completely.
- hey Damian how old is Danny?
Damian narrowed his eyes and tensed. Oops Tim just crossed the line.
- I don’t see any reason I should inform you about that.
That was rather cold. Tim is glad that Damian’s katana is away from his hand radious.
- If he is lonely then he could sometimes visit manor. Come for dinner or something. It’s not like our friends don’t visit.
Damian eyes softened a little. Tim counted this as a win.
- I will take that into account.
After that Tim helped Damian carry his books to his room and tried not to worry too much about his suspicions.
-
In Tim’s defense he did not plan this. He was just checking out the coffee shop close to the park when he bumped into them in the doorway. He exited said store when he stumbled into someone. Only after a moment he processed that said someone held in hands the same huge brown book with familiar constalations on the cover. And sure enough when he looked to the left there was standing Damian. The boy who held the book was Laughing and looking at his younger brother. Tim studied him carefully he had piercing blue eyes, hollow cheeks indicating malnutrition and black tangled hair that seemed in serious need of a cut. He was wearing jeans that in the past were probably navy blue but now seemed more gray and brown pulled jumper very similar to what he used to wear few years ago. He was lanky in that unhealthy way that kids from troubled homes were. Tim smiled slyly and caught Damian eyes. He seemed really tense.
- hey Danny nice finally meeting you!
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heartfullofleeches · 1 year
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Playtime
Yan Owner + Dog Hybrid Reader [+18]
Summary: your owner brings home a new toy for you to test out out
Warnings: top reader(sorta), knotting, gender neutral pronouns but reader has peen, dubious consent, degradation/objectifcation (not towards reader), Reader being a horn dog, brief mentions of spit
"Aha!~ Here's a selection from our first time out of the country. My poor pup is such a nervous flyer - but those sparkling beaches at that resort made it all worth while."
Pet Lovers - never thought they'd be one for the list, but given how this night has gone so far - there's a fair chance they'll never date again.
The start of their eve and therelationship as a whole had gone off without a hitch; something straight out of a fairytale. Blair was your average a fresh out of college, straight into retail work joe and their date was.. special. They had seen their soon-to-be partner around the store they worked at a hand full of times before which that person brought when they left a message on Blair's profile. Kind, well dressed and mannered, polite. They were all that and then some. There was a cloud of mystery and hesitancy around them when the two first began chatting which they latter confessed was due to their high ranking roll in their office and being used in the past. During this time they solely went by the initials M.J, which stuck long after things kicked off.
Charismatic as they may have been, M.J was a timid person underneath that brave face. They often apologized through dinner for glancing at their phone, but it was their first date in years which meant they had to leave their dog home with a sitter and they'd never been apart for so long. Figuring they'd be more comfortable talking about something they adored, Blair inquired more about their pet. As an anxious and cautious child, M.J feared other kids in their youth. The only invites they ever received were due to their parents influence and often from people who didn't even go to the same school. It was when they were gifted the cutest little pup for their birthday they understood the true meaning of friendship and even love. Without their pup, everything they've worked for was pointless.
Blair thought the dynamic was adorable - at first. M.J showed them a few pictures of you during their meal and you were as cute and fluffy as they bragged. They even met you when M.J managed to whittle their fears away and convinced them to head home with them after dinner. You we a sweetheart, albeit a little forceful when you all buy bullied them onto the couch - sniffling at their neck as you pinned them to the cushions with your imposing figure. You were a head taller than both them and M.J with the body mass to prove it. They were plucking fur out of their mouth by the time M.J got your attention.
They ushered you off to your room with a hushed promise they've kept to before - tender hands stroking your need once out of company as a soft, impatient whine leaves you. "Hush, hush. Playtime will be soon. Be patient, my love - and dont break this one too soon."
Blair thought that would be the end of everything revolving around you. The pair settled down for the eve with a bottle of something older than their great-grandparents and M.J seemed invested in all things Blair. Their hopes, dreams, fears - M.J urged and persuaded them to talk more about themselves than their therapist and even their parents ever could. That charming smile, the small, affirming nod when Blair flew off their rocket and the reassurance their feelings were valid when they apologized for their outbursts was nothing they'd witnessed from past failed attempts at love. They connected with M.J more than they had with anyone in their entire life which is why when they suggested taking things up to the bedroom - Blair agreed.
For someone would hadn't been on many dates, M.J had quite the skills when came down to business. Blair was stripped off their clothing while they remained fully dressed before the pair made it through the door. M.J opted to get things underway right in the hall, purged forward by Blair's recognition of the name scribbled on the opposite door. Inside the guest room, M.J paused to marvel at Blair's features as they guided them into bed, laying their datemate onto their side and pulling their leg back over their clothed lap. A hand cupped beneath the beat of their chest and fingers ghosting their sex between their thighs Blair believed things were finally turning up for them-
"Oh! There's still a few photos I forgot to show you at the restaurant. Do you mind?"
Until that. For the past God knows how long, Blair had been subjected to photos upon photos of M.J's most valued memories presented in accordingly dated folders centered around none other than you. Various classes, birthdays that time you tried to bake them a cake a nearly burned down the house. M.J was more focused on the past than the very real present coupled with their digits still shoved inside another as they rambled on like they weren't even there. Blair attempted to ignore all and center themselves on the foreplay, but your increasing lose of clothes as the gallery went on made it hard to look away.
"Hey... nor trying to be a drag or anything, but - can we look at this after we're done?"
The gentle smile against their skin hardens. M.J hums, tracing the outline of their shoulder with their lips. "Hm..Alright, I just have one more video to show you. I thought my sweet pup I was going on a date and they wanted to film something a little special for you."
"I...fine.." Blair snuggles into their warmth as the video plays. It starts relatively normal with the camera person traversing the hall they'd just traveled up to the door with your name on it. Each step brought more attention to the sounds of baited breath and whines, and the lewd snap of skin against skin. The door opens to reveal a frenetic hybrid pressing the face of their caretaker into their bed, fingers tangled through their hair as the claws of their free hand dug into their toy's ass. The human squealed and gasped through the hybrid's rapacious vigor - bed frame quaking with every spring from the hulking figure's hips as the bulb at the base of their cock rammed against the human's ass treading entry into their prepped hole. The caretakers hands had been tied with some kind of rope dog toy and their hair was plastered to their face from sweat, bite marks and scratches littering their skin. The camera person walks over and grabs the caretaker by the hair to allow the hybrid ful control of their limbs - wearing the same gloves M.J had removed before climbing into bed.
With a gentle coo, M.J points the camera at your face as you kiss, extending into a muddled whimper on your end as your knot slips in. They stroke your ears as your body trembles from the overload - suckling your swinging tongue as you fuck deeper into your favorite doll. M.J fakes a gasp, yanking at your collar a lightly as possible.
"Y/n! You know you're not supposed to too harsh on your playmates. We couldn't want to break them, now would we?"
All you give in terms of acknowledgement to their scold is the confused tilt of your head and pout of your lips, eyes clouded with lust and the faint idea of your wrongdoings. M.J chuckles, lifting your caretaker's head as they lower the phone back down to them. "But given how long they've been with us, I'm sure a little rough housing won't do too much harm."
Their face was covered in spittle, tears, and the drying remnants of rounds prior to M.J's arrival. M.J collects the mixture from the corner of their mouth and smears it over their plump lips, your caretaker taking the hint and opening their mouth for M.J to wipe their tainted thumb on their tongue. M.J grins at their obedience, ruffling their hair as they stand straight.
"Working hard for that paid vacation, ain't cha? Our sweet pup's gonna miss ya. You know how their cycles get this time of year."
You grunt - hooking your arms around their waist as you lower your weight down on them; effectively trapping them into bed and with you for the near future. M.J's brow twitches, fingers ripping a few strands of their hair. "Now, now - sweetheart. Your favorite toy had given recommendations for a new pet while they're away. What was their name again?"
A meek voice crawls from their bruised throat. "Bl...air... We went to college together. They've only been with like three guys as far as I know, and I heard they're getting evicted next month."
"Excellent. Printed a copy of their work photo while I was in the office, but it never hurts to check. Angel, will this one be alright for you?"
You lift up as your owner pulls out the picture. Inspecting the image, your knot pops from your current caretaker's stretched hold as you rock back on your legs. Settling the picture down before your release, spurts of your rich spend drown sight of the smiling face presented. Panting, you admire your handiwork and the glimpse as what the face underneath might look like coated in your speed. Grinning from ear to ear, you nod eagerly at your owner.
"Wanna play with them. Please lemme play. I'll be good, promise. Please? It hurts when I have to play by myself. I'll treat them good, I swear."
Leaping off the bed to beg your pushover owner, the video ends on the cum-stained photograph.
"What.... the actual fuck."
A soft scratch at the door. M.J sits up to address their humble guest. "It's unlocked, sweetie, come on in.... They're almost ready for you."
Pillow tucked between your legs and ears flat agains you skull, you enter the room in nothing but a tee shirt and pure drive. The shirt rode your backside due to your fluffy tail and the oozing tip of your already erect prick swoll from its hem. The moonlight highlighted that same animalistic desire in your eyes mirrored in the video and the saliva dripping from your teeth and lips. Blair sizes the silhouette of your cock to the fingers still wedged inside them. Without including the growth at its base it had to be twice their width the a sizeable length. The arousal in their nether reigions at the curiosity of taking on such a beast was almost painful.
Their head swims. "What's.... going on?"
"Pretty..." You slur, grinding against your spare pillow as you devote their naked form with your eyes. "wanna play..."
M.J finally unplugs their fingers from Blair's sex and retrieves a towel from the nightstand. They wipe down their entire arm as they stare Blair down, rolling their sleeves back down to their wrists.
"Blair... I need you to listen to me, and listen carefully. From the very second you walked through my front door... no, when you responded to my messages your life was no longer yours. Your hopes, dreams, and ambitions mean about as much as that cheap fragrance you wear. In all honesty, you really aren't much seeing as I could find a dozen more like you, but so long as you keep my pup happy and drained, you might finally have a purpose in that sad, miserable life of yours. The pay is far better and you get to care for the world's most precious pup. Doesn't that sound like a great deal? I'll do everything I can to make sure they don't harm you considering its your first time with them."
Blair felt tears catching in their lashes. They couldn't tell what was worse; the fact their amazing date only went out with them to find a new bitch for their pet - or in the span of this reality shattering new they'd imagined being plowed in ten different positions and speeds by that very same hound. Contemplating their choices from their first day to everything leading to this fucked up night, another mistake was common goal for them to take.
"If...their knot goes in - I want a bonus."
For the first time since they looked anywhere but you, M.J's smile met their eyes. "That's the spirit. Sweetheart?"
Given the go ahead, your reserve snaps. Leaping onto the and between their legs, you spread them as their elasticity would allow and sink in halted from burying yourself at full depth due to the thickness of your knot. Clawing a grip on the fat of their thighs you huff in frustration - bulb stretching their entrace wider with no real entry as it pops right back out with each aggravating trial. Channeling your irritation, your owner props themselves behind you and slinks their arms around your chest - ushering a swarm of kisses to your sweaty face and jaw before cradling their lips at your ear.
"Now, now - what have I told you about rushing things? I know you haven't had any help for two days but work is very demanding. I promise we'll have next summer all to ourselves, but I'll make it up to you as i can now."
M.J inserts two fingers from their unused hand into your mouth, gathering - and lathering your viscid drool around your knot. Easing you forward, your owner instructs you to keep a strong hold on Blair's tensing limbs as they slam against you from behind, rocketing your well lubricated shaft inside their tight walls. Impossible to pull out with them clenching around you, you shoot shallow thrusts into the squirming body beneath you as your owner praises you for your patience. Your size had already filled them fuller than any of their past partners and at this stage they felt bloated. M.J pins one of their ankles down as they kiss at your neck, biting softly at the small howl you mewl from the pleasure at both ends.
"My poor, sweet puppy~ Always in these nasty heats that give you quite the temper when you don't have a playmate. It hurts sometimes- I know, but you're doing so good for me right now. I'll wake up bright and early so we can have breakfast together before I start work."
Blair couldn't focus on much with your cock spearing their body numb and mind blank, but it was clear that to at least one here they were no longer a living, breathing human being with hopes and a family to return home to. A hole for you to dump your cum into and place aside until you needed them again. An object. A toy - that's what M.J saw them as.
"G..nhh.." Eyes rolling back, their walls hug your tender girth as your ceaseless pounding rocks them through their peak. Shaking free of your owner's touch you press down on them in a full mating, tongue licking their face and teeth as their hands beat at your sides, falling slack as your knot slips free only to screw back into their puffy hole - swelling as your grunts drown out their babbles. You cup their head into your hand away from the headboard as you knock them against it and into the mattress. Your lips draw closed and pursed as if going in for a kiss - only for you to spit directly in their mouth instead. They flinch.
"Sorry...M says I can't kiss my toys even those I really want sometimes and doing that is better, but apparently that's what some of you humans prefer. Maybe this would be nicer for you--"
Holding their jaw, you stick out your tongue and suspend the muscle over their face as a glob of spit beads down into their gaping mouth and over their lips. You rub the excess into their skin - throwing their head back against the pillow as your hand subconsciously latches around their neck; relaxed. Your toy struggles for a proper breath despite zero restrictions to their airways mainly due to your weight and the fervency of your thrusts. Looking back with unsure eyes, they fall on your owner for guidance.
"Gonna cum.... where should I....."
"Wherever you please. Mark your new territory."
You nod slowly as you return your gaze back to the human. Groping their hips, you lift your toy's lower body off the bed to your lap as you piston inside them - securing their legs around your waist as your balls tighten, slapping against their plush ass. You kneed the flesh, nipping at their chest as your cock twitches. Your owner running kisses down your spine, you almost instantaneously come undone as you spill deep within the human, waiting a beat for the swell of your knot to go down before you tear your cock out - pulling them beneath you as you stroke your shaft through overstimulation and rushed, less intense but still vicious orgasm over their chest and face; marking them inside and out as your bitch.
Your owner claps, whipping out their phone as they crouch beside the bed. "Oh, Angel! I always forget what a good painter you are! Say cheese!"
"Cheese..." Ears dropping, you smile a wide as your exhaustion would enable; your companion helped into a similar grin by your your owner. After taking a few solo pictures of you, M.J takes a blanket from the end of the bed and drapes it over your shoulders, dragging you to their height with its stretch and kissing your nose.
"Alright, sweetie- you know what time it is. I have to talk to them now so if you start your bath water and let me scrub you down without complaints I'll give you a massage and a treat before bed."
You whine, but skamper off, tail wagging, at the revelation of rewards for playing nice. M.J drops their attention over to Blair who stare back breathless and utterly ruined. M.J crunches some numbers into their phone and holds it out to them. It was hard to make out with their body giving out, but that many zeros could likely pay their rent for the next five months.
"Payment for your first night. Felt a little nice considering you kept quiet for the most. Shower behind that door over there and some spare clothes in the third cabinet on your right when you walk in. Tell anyone about them, you're dead. Kiss them or get too close, your whole family is dead. This is your only chance to back out. Your contract lasts until they grow bored with you or I can't stand the sight of you. If you agree to these terms - welcome to your new life."
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locuas642 · 3 months
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Elden Ring, my reading on Marika
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Having finished the DLC, I am thinking of this scene. The scene from Ranni's ending, where she replaces Marika as a Goddess and Marika vanishes, finally passing away.
And one of the biggest twists in the game, alongside one of the major unsolved mysteries in the story is the reveal that Marika herself shattered the Elden Ring for some purpose, with the most sympathetic reading being that this was the only way she had to escape from the control of The Greater Will and recover her freedom.
The DLC expands on Marika, giving us an origin for her.
That is, of the horrors her people suffered at the hands of the Hornsent, the same people she would command Messmer to wage War upon them and commit what seems to have been a brutal genocide.
Now, my personal reading is that, after what happened to her people, Marika did a metaphorical deal with the devil. Either The Elden Beast or Metyr arrived to The Lands Between near Marika's village, and she accepted to be a Goddess and a servant of The Greater Will in exchange for her vengeance. and to be perfectly fair to Marika, this was the closest to Justice her people would ever get.
Now, Count Ymir suggests Marika was influenced by flawed advice from Metyr, the Mother of Two-Fingers, who lost contact with The Greater Will. But he also believes the moons are just the closest celestial object to our planet, so he is full of Shit. Because that doesn't yet explain The Elden Beast.
In any case, Marika made that deal and became a Goddess and she got her vengeance. And she fulfilled her duty as accorded, Conquering and expanding and forcing everyone to bow to The Greater Will. Who knows what she felt during this time. If she lusted for power as her empire grew, or if she was horrified and felt trapped by learning what becoming a goddess meant.
Because everything about Marika is always specifically filtered through someone else. Even the closest we get, her very words spoken by her, are filtered through Melina.
The second closest we get is Marika's village, where we see the things she left behind, Specific actions she and she alone did for nobody else but the memory of her village. and I say this because This:
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is the closest we ever, ever get to meeting Marika. a broken face of someone who has long stopped being human, he don't see her eyes, we don't hear her voice. Yet you know what I see here?
Marika's Tired. So, so, so, so... Tired.
Was that it? that at the very end, Marika simply grew tired? was she, in her last moments, thinking back and remembering The Grandmother by the tree, and wishing she could be there for one final slumber?
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And so maybe, regardless of what The Age of Stars means, on whether it is the "good ending" or not, this is the ending Marika wanted. For someone, any of her children, to hopefully succeed her and let her rest at last.
And what we see is that in the last moments of the Shaman whose entire home village was cruelly massacred (and who delivered blood upon blood onto those responsible and unto the innocent, and whose entire life was now defined to the service of some greater power), she is being cuddled in the arms of her step-daughter (of whom she may be Ranni's biological father), a moment of peace and warm before the end of a long road.
Maybe one of the things the DLC was meant to show us wasn't why Marika did what she did. It was to show us that it was time for Marika to go back home at last
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littlebittyhollowbugs · 2 months
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I will never love any interpretation of Ghost, Hollow and Hornet more than I love the interpretation of them being ultimately good, fighting for peace for everyone around them, caring deeply for Hallownest (or what remains of Hallownest at least) and caring deeply for each other and peace for their family at last.
I love kind Ghost.
Ghost who goes out of the way to gift flowers to lonely bugs.
Ghost who will rescue Zote whenever given the opportunity, without thanks or any form of reward.
Ghost who rescues grubs because they are trapped and crying to be freed.
Ghost who despite having limited ability of expression, will find some way to convey appreciation for others. (Sitting beside them. Listening to them talk or sing. Bowing out of respect.)
Ghost who is excited when in the company of good friends.
Ghost who spares the life of the nailsmith.
Ghost who mourns the loss of those fallen.
Ghost who eventually remembers their past, remembers being abandoned by their sibling, and still chooses to fight, to do everything that it takes, to free the hollow knight. To put an end to their suffering. To take Hollow's place, or to die.
There is no reward for this. There is nothing to gain. Ultimately Ghost is willing to suffer forever or to die in order to give others peace.
Ghost makes many many mistakes, and can make selfish or reckless decisions, but ultimately, Ghost is forgiving and loving.
I love Hollow who genuinely wants the people of Hallownest to be at peace. (Ironically just wanting that alone made it impossible for Hollow to grant them that peace.
But still, Hollow wants that.)
Hollow who loves Hallownest. Who loves their father and who loves his kingdom.
Hollow who is relentless in protecting it. Who would suffer for over a hundred years protecting whatever there is that can possibly be saved.
Hollow who has had the radiance influencing it all that time. The radiance who hates the king, who hates his people. Who tried to convince it to hate them to.
Hollow who loves them regardless.
Who feels empathy for everyone. Who understands their suffering more than anyone and wants nothing more than for them to have peace.
Hollow who, after finally being freed, chooses to live a kind life. To be understanding and gentle.
Who has every right to be bitter and angry and closed off, but who, after finally receiving the opportunity to live, to actually live, chooses to find everything good left in the world that they fought so hard for.
Hollow who learns to love openly and to no longer be afraid.
Hollow who is eventually excited to be able to express love in small ways.
Hollow is stalwart and just. But kind.
Hornet who, despite everything that she went through, despite losing so much, nearly everything, continues to stand and to fight for life because it still matters to her.
Hornet who fights to honor those that she lost, especially her mother.
Hornet who is hesitant to be hopeful, but is hopeful anyway.
Hornet who is hesitant to form any friendships out of fear that she will lose them, But who longs for friendship, for family..
Hornet who is proud of her siblings, who loves them despite not wanting to, who feels guilt knowing that the fate of the kingdom must rely on them.
Hornet who will rush in to assist her siblings in their final battle, knowing that she may very well die.
Hornet who, after given the opportunity to be with her siblings again, wants nothing more than to help them heal. For them all to heal.
Hornet who loves and is loved in return.
Ghost and Hollow who love, and are loved in return.
A little broken family that understands each other, understands that nothing that happened to any of them was fair, and who forgive each other, who love each other because after all this time..
They finally can.
Not one of them is without their (sometimes severe) flaws. Not one of them isn't damaged after everything that has happened.
And still they choose love.
This quote by Mary Shelley captures my interpretations of the siblings perfectly.~
"Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it”
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gay-dorito-dust · 10 months
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Whoa you like Nuada too? I can’t pass this up! Can you please write Nuada with a reader who is cheerful individual? I like grumpy x sunshine ships 😆 I feel he wouldn’t know how to go about it and more confused when he falls for reader (Gender neutral pls)
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Of course I like Nuada anon! How could I not?! I’d be ashamed of myself if I didn’t.🦦 also this is long as shit. I got carried away…no I won’t apologise.
Nuada first heard of you whilst being held captive at the BRPD through Nuala, whom had met you earlier that day through your mutual love of literature. And according to his sister you were a bright, bubbly, happy and warm individual who made her feel welcomed and included the moment she came to the Bureau; even going so far as to gift her with a poetry book with a cerulean blue cover.
It was actually a personal possession of yours but due to never haven gotten to read it, you had decided that it would serve Nuala far better than it ever did you. Nuala naturally refused to accept it but, you were persistent that she’d have it as you would rather have it be well loved and read than sitting on a cold, lonely shelf collecting dust.
‘They’re such a delight to talk to brother.’ Nuala began, clutching the poetry book with the cerulean cover close to her chest as though it were a priceless treasure, which to her it very much was.
‘They’re human dear sister, this persona they’ve put on is probably a trick, an illusions of sorts to lure you into a false sense of security.’ Nuada warns, not as trusting towards humanity as Nuala was. Giving? Warm? Welcoming? These were traits that the elven prince would’ve never associated with humans. Ever. It just sounded too far fetched to think that such a kindhearted and selfless person could ever have existed. Nuada only knew humanity for their glutinous greed, so such simple acts of kindness as gifting someone a poetry book, would do very little to change his perspective on the entirety of mankind.
Nuala frowns. ‘You haven’t even met them and yet you refuse to give them a fair chance. I understand your grievances towards humans but all I ask of you, dear brother, is that you learn to trust one, even if that one happens to be y/n.’ Nuala pleaded with Nuada, holding out on a spark of hope that with your influence, Nuada’s heart will no longer be veiled in shadows. Nuala truly believed that if anyone could come close to doing just that, it would be you, she just knew it.
Nuada merely scoffs at the notion his sister has in you being the one to unveil his heart of the pain and suffering. While he may have once bended to his twins every plea, this was one he could not find himself willingly doing so and the look upon Nuala’s face told him that she was very much made aware of that fact and wordlessly left.
Nuada wouldn’t get to experience you in your entirety until the BRPD decided that Nuada was trusted to head out on missions as your partner, they too also had some inclination that your bright and sweet persona would not only run off on Nuada but also soften his resolve against all of humanity; an request that would take a lot out of you.
‘You must be Prince Nuada. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name I’ve heard so much about.’ You said, barely able to contain your excitement at finally being given a partner. Sure the stories you’ve heard about the elven prince were…less then enlightening, framing him as an angry and vengeful being incapable of change, but the ones you’ve heard from Nuala however painted Nuada as a somewhat tragic figure.
‘I can’t remember the last time I saw my brother smile, if he even smiled at all.’ Nuala would say as a saddened look came across her face before she looked over at you when you abruptly grabbed her hand, face set in serious determination.
‘I’ll try and get him to smile more for you.’ You said.
‘It’s an impossible feat.’ Nuala counters but you weren’t having any of it.
‘Then I’ll just keep trying until I do, no matter how long that may take.’ You replied, staying strong to your conviction.
‘Why. Why would you go out of your way to do something for someone you barely even know?’ Nuala asked, feeling your strength, determination, heart and more theough just holding your hand alone. It was overwhelming of hoe bright you were that Nuala swore she would soon be blinded by your light alone, however it was because of your power of will that gave her hope, hope that you’ll might just do what she had long since believed to be impossible.
You merely smiled and relied with, ‘because even the strongest of us deserve to smile and like you said, you don’t remember the last time that you’ve seen your brother smile. So leave that to me and I promise to have Nuada smiling soon.’
And you always meant your promises. Always. What you wasn’t expecting was how handsome Nuada actually was. No one had bothered to tell you prior that your partner was a true beauty. A beauty with a piercing set of golden eyes and desirably soft, silky hair that fell past his shoulders in a platinum blonde waterfall. He held an air about him that made you both nervous and excited, however you had to quickly remind yourself that he wasn’t going to warm up to you nearly as quickly as you’d hoped.
Nuada on the other hand was immediately blindsided by your personality. It was so vibrant, colourful and filled to the brim with radiant life that he was certain that he looked rather dull and lifeless in comparison. It also looked as though his sister was right about many things in regard to your character, however that didn’t warrant Nuada to immediately start trusting you like she had wished for, after all you were still a human at the end of the day.
‘I’m-‘
‘Y/n. I’m aware.’ Nuada cuts you off abruptly before you could properly introduce yourself.
You made a face. ‘How-‘
‘My sister speaks highly of you,’ you began to smile at that but Nuada wasn’t finished, ‘but I have yet to witness what’s so special about you.’ You merely shrugged and answered with your entire chest. ‘You will soon enough. I promised your sister to get you to smile after all.’ Nuada’s brows raised at this but before he could get you to elaborate on that further, it was already time to head out for your first mission as a partnership.
Your first mission had turned out to be an avid success that it would only stand to reason to keep sending you and Nuada out as a team. You worked extremely well together and your fighting styles complement each others, while also concealing any weak spots that the other may have almost seamlessly. You and Nuada both complement missions in quick and swift succession. That was out in the field however, the way you acted towards Nuada afterwards made him feel a weird warmth within his chest.
You would often note of how Nuada fell a good distance behind everyone else after group missions, and so you would then fall to the back of the group also -not wanting him to be alone- before naturally falling into step with him, all the while still adhering to giving him his own personal space. You didn’t force a conversation with him like he expected you to, but instead allowed a calming silence to befall the pair of you as you headed home; Which was something he was oddly grateful to you for as he wasn’t that much of a conversationalist after battle.
However he couldn’t help but wonder why you were putting in so much effort into him. He hated your kind and yet you’ve treated him with nothing but respect and kindness. You didn’t push his boundaries, you didn’t overstay your welcome but even long after you left his side, Nauda could still feel your lingering warmth within every breeze that passed him by. Nuada just didn’t get why you were so hellbent on your promise to his sister, was it truly that important for you to help fulfil Nuala’s wish? And if so, what was it that she had said at the time for you that solidified your need to see it through film the end?
While Nuada had to admit, it was quite admirable that you kept to your word but some days he couldn’t help but question whether if that was your sole reason for sticking so close to him. Whether or not he’d ever confront you about it was his to debate upon later, but as for now he decided against it; His pride would never allow him to indulge in such thoughts and ideations that weren’t remotely relevant to hating humans.
Nuada had also noticed that after being your partner for a while, he had developed a need to protect you from all harm. At first he thought that if you died on a mission, the fault would fall onto him and he would be put back into confinement until further notice, but he soon learned that wasn’t actually the case; Far from it actually that he soon found himself sitting across from his sister to discuss about it.
‘Sounds like you have grown fond of y/n, brother.’ Nuala had said, smiling as she relishes in the times that Nuada obviously expressed interest in you without knowing it, but luckily that’s when the link they share makes situations like these a whole lot more simpler to navigate.
‘I merely find them more tolerable than others.’ Nuada defends, crossing his arms over his chest, still heavily in denial that anything he felt for you could possibly go beyond the realms of being cordial with one another. Yet that didn’t explain the sting in his chest whenever you were as joyful and excitable with anyone who wasn’t him, almost as though he wanted you to only beam that bright for him and him only.
‘Then why do you feel at peace with them near? Has their light finally unveiled your heart?’ Nuala asked and this time Nuada stayed silent for a longer period of time as he was beginning to realise that yes, you did infect have unveiled his heart from the shadows he cast over it. What scared him however was how you had done it. You constantly showed him patience during the times where he needed it, showed him understanding when he talked about his feelings, something he hadn’t done as much before meeting you; you even showed him solidarity for the times where he needed someone to stand by his side.
You had changed Nuada’s way of life in small but meaningful ways that there came a day where he starts to hate the fact that he had come this far without the gentle guidance of your voice for him to follow unto a better path. However despite acknowledging that you play a pivotal part in his current life, doesn’t mean that made Nuada’s understanding of his feelings any clearer than they were when he first discovered them.
‘They make me feel things I’d never thought I’d feel again Nuala.’ He began, knowing that whatever he said to his sister would be kept solely between them. ‘I’ve been lost admits my need for revenge that even the fluttering in my chest, or the warmth that reaches my cheeks feels foreign to me now.’ He adds, taking the time to remember the first time he felt something towards you that wasn’t explicit hatred for being human. ‘It feels as though I’m experiencing them for the first time and I can’t help but become addicted of sorts, that whenever they smile at me-‘
‘You hope that they smile at you like that forever.’ Nuala interrupts her brother softly, already quite well acquainted either that feeling from the times she felt Nuada’s emotions through the link.
‘Yes.’ Nuada said in an almost whisper. ‘I wish to be the reason y/n smiles as much as they are mine.’ Nuala couldn’t help but express her happiness for this new stage of Nuada’s life, all she wanted was for her brother to be happy and she was made even happier at the fact that it was you who made him the happiest he’s ever felt in a long time.
‘We shall get through this together brother.’ Nuala reassured, feeling her brothers’ still prevalent confusion, making Nuada look back at her, ‘then soon everything else will fall into place. You just have to put faith in the hope that y/n will be there to catch you when you fall.’
Nuada was still confused about everything but with hi sisters help, he hopes to surely get a clearer understanding of what he was currently feeling before confronting you about it.
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@pink-pearl-plain-jeans took a few days but here. hope this is something you actually wanted lol. this is lowkey a ramble but it is an informed ramble.
First, you are gonna seriously regret asking me, because I have nearly 300 hours logged between these two games and half a masters degree in clinical psychology.
Second, to be fair, you don't have know a lot about ballroom dancing -- I know almost nothing. Toward the end of Step 4 on Baxter's route, he will joke to Jamie about the irony of ballroom dancing, which requires both a partner and a certain level of intimacy, is his most beloved hobby, when the ability to form close, intimate relationships is his biggest struggle.
Baxter is a pretty good example of what disorganized, or fearful-avoidant, attachment looks like in adults. He both desperately wants to form emotional connections with others and intensely fears those same attachments, viewing them as inherently unsafe and unstable. The player can see this in the way Baxter attempts to form lots of superficial connections where he overshares personal details while also being evasive about his deeper feelings. He is aware that he needs some level of human interaction and works to fill that need without leaving himself vulnerable to being hurt or abandoned. This can occur in individuals who had inconsistent parents growing up. Baxter's relationship to dancing mirrors his emotional progression with attachment to others.
As a child, he has a stable group of friends and dances at the country club competitively, and thus likely has a stable, consistent partner with whom he performs. We know very little about Mr. and Mrs. Ward, except for the following:
They are older.
They are wealthy, and likely old money.
They are bigoted, like being queerphobic and racist.
They expected Baxter to behave with greater maturity than would have been typical for his age and "at times, as if he was even older [than them]."
He did not want to spend his first summer after college with them, so they shipped him off to a tiny beachside tourist town, either not caring or not knowing that he is petrified of the ocean.
Something about Baxter would be a problem, and they would hate him if he were someone else's child.
From this, we can garner a few things. The first is that the Wards were likely emotionally immature, possibly parentified him, and likely played "it's okay if it's you" card. When we meet Baxter as a child in OLNF, he is clearly very fond of Qiu, Ren, and possibly Tamarack and Franky as well. These relationships likely provided insulation from parents who alternated between being emotionally distant and overcontrolling. It also makes sense that Baxter would be drawn to younger children here. Baxter chalks it up to his own immaturity, but I would argue that it is in fact because he is precocious that he chooses a younger friend group. Kids his own age would likely be put off by his attitude and may take it as condescending, whereas younger children would appreciate him as older and wiser. Additionally, younger children give him the opportunity to play and engage in silly antics that he may have missed out the first time.
I also wouldn't be surprised if there was some cognitive dissonance as well, since his parents probably espoused queerphobic ideals while also professing to love Baxter, who himself is bisexual and knew very well that he was attracted to boys by the age of 12. Given this, and the amount of bitterness with which he later speaks about them, it also would not surprise me if they had some influence on his drifting apart from Ren and Qiu as they got older. Not that this has to be the case, but I could see Baxter avoiding bringing his very-visibly queer friends (including one who is also a POC) around his parents to avoid hurting them.
He grows up and appears in OLBA as a teen who is somewhat adrift. He doesn't appear to have a stable friend group or sense of identity, and he has limited his contact with his parents to the minimum amount that he feels obligated to contact them. Now, shifting identity is pretty normal for young adults, but Baxter's seems less stable than it should be. What I actually thought was really interesting is the subtle shift between Baxter as he presents himself and as he actually is. He presents himself as accommodating, complimentary, confident, and friendly. The person he actually is -- the one he thinks no one will like -- is sardonic, self-effacing, mischievous, and lonely. In his desire to be included, he avoids imposing his will on others -- Jamie can even convince him to wear a swimsuit and go into the ocean if they really want, something he is terrified to do. He is only able to be genuine if either (a) Jamie has made an explicit effort to show him he is accepted or (b) he is emotionally dysregulated enough that he is unable to keep up the charade
Anyway, at this point, he is presumably no longer competing, and no longer has a steady partner. In his first interaction with Jamie and Cove, he is immediately offering to be their partner, which is a deliberate double-entendre. He comes on strong, because he needs the relationship to begin quickly in order the get what he needs out of it. He has no intention of actually taking the time to get to know people or build a genuine connection with them. It's about control here. Also note that he offers this with the implication that he would be teaching them to dance. Even in asking for a temporary connection, he's framing it as him offering a service in exchange for their company because he doesn't see himself as valuable on his own (Qiu also does this btw). In summary, he is dancing with people he barely knows because while the steps won't be familiar or comforting, he doesn't have to worry about mistakes either. (dun dun dun, the mortifying ordeal of being known!)
As an adult, he shifts this into a more formalized version. He isn't stupid, nor does he enjoy hurting people. He knows that most people are unwilling to abandon relationships so quickly, and he knows he's hurt people. The thing about attachment styles is that you can develop a secure attachment style as an adult. The problem is that you do this by essentially re-parenting yourself. Learning to treat himself with self-compassion is really difficult, though, because that's a learned skill. He needs community or a therapist. The problem is that because of his disorganized attachment style, forming a community is difficult and he would probably also have trouble finding a therapist because that would require a level of vulnerability that he struggles with. Baxter also heavily relies on avoidance as a coping mechanism. When he enters into a relationship, because he is primed to view them as unpredictable and conditional, it activates his fight-flight-freeze response. He then attempts to escape the situation by (a) leaving, (b) ghosting/ignoring, and (c) distancing himself using social niceties to avoid confrontation. If he is cornered (like the end of step 3), he switches to fight mode and becomes caustic. This may indicate that if he entered a therapeutic relationship, he is likely to end therapy prematurely to avoid thinking about his loneliness and attachment issues.
So, because he knows he hurts people by doing all of this, and because he doesn't know how to maintain a relationship, he formalizes the arrangement. People literally pay him for a service (planning) and because he is "in" on such an intimate event, he still gets the feeling of getting to know people and be included, without the emotional risk. Same thing with dancing.
That's why dancing with him after the wedding is such a big deal. Yes, it's a callback to a very special moment for Baxter, but it's also a metaphor for re-entering a relationship. He's been looking at and judging his relationships on the ruptures not the repairs, and to be able to repair a relationship after the mask has come off, the set's been wrecked, and the crowd is gone means that he has lived a lonely life for no reason.
Anyway, all this is to say that Cove was 100% right when he clocked that Baxter was insincere and interacted with people in a really weird way. No one listened though.
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starlightazriel · 2 months
Text
necessities 2
series desc: modern day (fem)reader x classic prythian azriel au, series of short chapters, fluffy, smutty, cute, probably some angst and or drama cus it's me
warnings: 18+, again guys this is silly hehe, reader is a lil airheaded, prescription drugs mentioned, swearing, reader is an influencer HAHA, i'm high, az has a dirty mind freaky boii,
wc: 1.7k
other parts will be found on my masterlist under azriel
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two
"You ready?" Azriel quirks a brow, looking down at you, you swallow hard, it didn't matter how big his arms were, basically the size of your fucking leg, how strong his body felt against yours. You were shaking with fear, shaking. The thought of flying through the air, not in first class with your fuzzy pink sleeping mask, a valium, and your security squishmallow- was not sitting right with you. Not at all.
"No," you squeak, your chest feeling tight. Heights- were one thing that you never did. Your friends hadn't even been able to pay you to get on Kingda Ka at Six Flags last year. "I don't even do rollercoasters- This-" you gulped, unable to even find the words.
"Roller what?" Azriel asks, his brows drawing together again, talking to you was definitely exhausting. He only seemed to understand about half of what you said. He would have to start writing these things down.
"Where I'm from people pay to get strapped into a death machine and basically dropped from the sky, I personally think it's like adrenaline junky behavior," you say, peering up at him, he raised his eyebrows as he looked back down at you, his eyes hazy with contemplation.
"Interesting," Azriel replies, this seemed to be the easiest thing to say, it was interesting after all, even if he didnt understand much of it. Your world sounded absolutely bizarre to him. It was hard to comprehend many of the things you said, but he thought he could listen for hours just to hear your ebullient voice, he supposed you were fairing rather well considering the fact that you had fell through some kind of blip in the magical web of infinite worlds— and may very well never see any of your friends and family ever again.
He had also noticed that your clothes were ridiculously useless and thin, he didn't understand what purpose they even served besides merely hiding the color of your nipples. He could see the curve of your body right through them, he was trying to be good, trying not to let his fingertips accidentally brush against the side of your breast while adjusting his hold on you. It's ill mannered to imagine how your cock would split a tiny little human woman in two the first day you meet her, he reminded himself. He knew he shouldn't stare either, so he tried to keep his eyes to anything but you, it proved to be rather challenging.
He thought you might be the most fascinating thing he'd encountered in all of his five hundred years of life.
"Well we do have to go at some point, what was that second name? Bubbles?" He smirked, he liked that. First, it was a word that he knew and understood, finally. Second, it suited you, despite having met you only hours ago... Undoubtedly a Bubbles.
"It's my at for all of my socials and it kind of just became my nickname," you respond and you can't help but smile back at that amused smirk he wore, it was definitely contagious, as small as it was.
"You may as well be speaking another language, but I don't mind, because you look positively scrumptious doing it," he paused before adjusting his stance, his grip tightening slightly on you, the heat from his fingertips against the thin fabric of your tank top and leggings was melting you from the inside out. He was carrying you bridal style, but it was almost more like a cradle considering how small you were compared to him. You were blushing at his comment, you couldn't help it, the sexual gravelly lull of his voice definitely had to be some kind of bat-man siren song.
Your heart beat quickened as he took a step forward, the realization that his tightening hands meant you were about to be transported through the clouds by a man with fucking wings. "Wait!" you yelp, peering up at him with a panicked look on your face. Azriel raised his eyebrows, freezing in place.
"Yes?" He asks, drawing out the word with a teasing inflection in his voice. His eyes were patient but he wore an amused smirk, his attention now solely fixated on your plump parted lips. I wonder how much of my cock I can fit in that pretty little mou—
"There's no pre-flight safety lecture?" You never thought you would miss the condescendence of flight attendants so much. You would have given anything for an espresso martini and a blanket and maybe one of those bags of miniature pretzels, your stomach growled at the thought.
"Hold on?" Azriel tries, that same amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. You let out a less than satisfied noise and he chuckles quietly. "I don't take many new passengers," he admits sheepishly. He didnt mind all the stalling so much, it meant he got to relish in your scent for a little longer, usually humans didnt smell this good.
"Wow you are really making me feel sooo much better, thank you for that," you utter sarcastically, your hand tightly gripping his chest, you could feel the steady beat of his heart under the leather of his, bondage suit? You didnt know. Azriel chuckles again and you fight the urge to shiver at the rumble that traveled through his chest with his laugh.
"The more we sit here and talk about it, the more afraid you'll be," and there is no warning, there is no hey im about to shoot hundreds of feet in the air. There is only wind, and your hair everywhere, and clinging onto Azriel for dear life— and shrieking like you had that time there was an unnaturally large spider that had moved into your walk in closet back home.
"Not fucking cool Azriel," you shout, your voice high over the whipping wind, your eyes are tightly squinted and youre almost glad you can't see his annoyingly amused smirk. "A one, two, three would be nice— and I'd like you to know right now that there isn't going to be a next time," your skin is covered in goosebumps and you were sure if it wasnt for the searing heat of his body you would have been shaking.
"I do love a challenge Bubbles," he dips his head down, and you can feel his nose brush against your scalp, your toes curl involuntarily at the sound of his voice. Raspy and seductive. You squeeze your eyes shut, hell would freeze over before you opened them.
"Never. The. Fuck. Again." You say, and it's a promise, you want to sock him over the head when he only laughs in response. "Im glad youre getting a real good laugh about this," you don't dare to open your eyes, even though that smile was the most dazzling you had ever seen. The only positive side to your current situation was how delicious he smelled.
"Youre fine."
"I think I might pass away."
-
You don't know how long it's been when you finally land back on the ground, and you hadn't opened your eyes once. No matter how many times Azriel had tried to get you to. "Open your eyes," he instructs, finally setting you down gently onto your feet.
Your eyes flutter open and you take in the sight of the room the two of you were now in. Your lips part slightly at the size of the bed, it was four poster super vintage looking, and the largest bed you had ever seen. There wasnt much beside the bed in the room, large windows, long curtains that hung almost from floor to ceiling and a large glass door that lead to the balcony. A single table on one side with an array of weapons, none of them guns you noticed. And a very tall wardrobe on the other side of the room. Despite the quality of the furniture it was horribly monochromatic.
"Im going to have to hide you here— For now," he looked down at you, waiting for you to say something, you didnt know what you were supposed to say to that. Hiding implied that whatever was outside was dangerous. "I know its not much, my living situation recently became a little more complicated— sometimes its nice to have a place to go that nobody knows about," he explains, his eyes still fixated on you. He didnt feel good about leaving you here all alone, but it was probably the safest place— and he didnt know how Rhys was going to react about a human girl from another world.
No one else had been to Azriels new apartment, he thought it rather ironic that a human girl was the first to see. With Cassian and Nesta fresh off of the bond- and Rhys and Feyre's hands more than full with Nyx... Azriel had just known it was time for a private place of his own. And it was proving to be quite useful now, perhaps a secret little copulation den for the erotic torture of a human girl— no not torture exactly, she would like it, she would be begging—
Your voice interrupted his insolent thoughts. "It's giving serial killer. Like a pop of color maybe? A Himalayan salt lamp? A few throw pillows definitely never hurt anyone," you say before turning around finally to meet his gaze, your heart almost stops, no pookie, youre not hallucinating, his eyes did just get three shades darker.
"Right, well I guess you'll have to help me " he responds before clearing his throat, and you could tell he hadnt really understood. His expression was completely indifferent, but his eyes, a shiver ran up your spine. "Make yourself at home, I'll be back and when I am I'll have food. There's a bathing room down the hall, and you can help yourself to whatever you can find to wear in there- though I'm sure it won't fit," he gestures to the wardrobe, "and I usually sleep nude so you may not find much at all," he adds, one more ghost of a smirk, before leaping off of the balcony and shooting into the sky.
You can't help but watch as he flies away, his enormous wings looking like some crazy CGI shit. You shuddered, remembering that moments ago you had been up there with him. When youre sure hes gone and you know youre alone, you cry. Ugly cry.
a/n: i would literally cut out my kidney with a bread knife and hand it over on a silver platter to be reader hahaha I think I got everyone on the tag list tell me if I missed ya im going to get drunk now
taglist<3: @velarisdusk @scorpioriesling @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @smalljasper289 @cherryinsalemverse @cleverzonkwombatsludge @serxndipity-ipity-blog @blessthepizzaman
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gffa · 3 months
Note
see that’s the part I don’t like, it’s one thing to have Jedi be fallible people who don’t know everything and make mistakes. But then people start going “yeah see, the darksiders are right, the Jedi are all either terrible people or idiots”
Hi! That's the point I was making in the previous post--at a certain point, worrying about what other people are or aren't saying about any given piece of Star Wars media featuring the Jedi was killing my desire to be in Star Wars fandom at all. So I had to step away from what other people were saying because it wasn't fun for me and it made the entire experience of watching or reading Star Wars miserable to the point of genuinely I considered quietly just entirely leaving the fandom. I had to step back and say, you know what, I am okay with the Jedi being "flawed" in the same way other characters are allowed it and I'm going to talk about it in that vein and maybe I'll get some people to go, oh, hey, yeah, the Jedi can be flawed without being evil, they can still be heroic, good characters, which would be a win for me! But also I'll have spent time having fun in fandom and not worrying about what other people are saying. I get it, sometimes we have to address the frequently racist and imperialist influences a lot of people are refusing to acknowledge in their arguments about the Buddhist space psychics, or sometimes we have to vent about how frustrated we are in fandom, it's a balancing act. But for me the bigger trend has to be just not worrying about how others are going to interpret the Jedi in The Acolyte or Rise of the Red Blade or Tales of the Jedi or whatever because otherwise I might as well leave the fandom right now. Instead, I'm going to build a corner where my friends and I can see Jedi being "flawed" and react positively, because at the end of the day, that is the fandom space I want to come relax in. That corner isn't going to be for everyone, fair enough! Everyone's gotta build their own corner. But, for me, my advice is always to build up that space you want to see and set down boundaries about it--and I want to see a space where a Jedi can make a mistake and it's not the end of the world any more than it's the end of the world when Luke makes a mistake. That space may not exist in the wider wilds of fandom, but it's going to exist here and that's everything I really need. <3
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hells-wasabii · 6 months
Note
Oh I have an idea! What about Velvette’s girlfriend meeting the other Vees for the first time?
A/N: I'm baaaack. Sorry for the sudden hiatus everybody, life got crazy and I just haven't had the time to write like i did when I started. Hopefully that'll change soon cuz there's still like 90 reqs in my inbox that I plan on writing. If I manage to get back down to a more reasonable number I may reopen reqs. but for now, here's some Velvette. A fair warning, though, I personally feel that this one is a little dialogue heavy, but hopefully yall enjoy it nonetheless
Character: Velvette
Type: Drabble (Velvette x fem!reader introducing gf to the Vee's, Fluff)
The initial pleasantries were out of the way, introductions and the like. It had gone well enough, you supposed, at least that part was over with. As bad as it sounded, you were thankful. Maybe you might actually survive the night after all.
“You know, darling, you’re quite the looker, have you ever considered a career in the film industry?” You shift your weight from one foot to the other, chuckling nervously before the overlords, because what the hell were you supposed to say to that? What the hell have you gotten yourself into? 
Velvette, who stood to your right, shot Valentino a sharp glare. A warning. There sure had been plenty of those tonight already, hadn’t there? The first of the night had been your own.
The influencer had told you what to expect before you had even set foot in Vee Tower. When your girlfriend had invited you to meet the rest of the Vee’s you had initially been unsure. Yeah, you knew Velvette already, the self-proclaimed backbone, the other two surely couldn’t be that, bad right?
“So…” Vox started, a serious expression settling upon his screen as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What are your intentions with our dear Velvette?”
Okay, so that’s where the night was going. Great. Maybe you’d been wrong, but all things considered, it genuinely felt as if you were meeting her parents. They had been surprisingly casual so far, but the trio of overlords had a reputation for being unpredictable, so that could really change at any minute, you realized. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you sputtered in response. Shit, you’d expected the other two overlords to be intimidating, but definitely not like this.
Velvette was quick to respond, slamming a not-so-subtle heel into his foot. The video star let out a yelp, electricity crackling around his screen as he glitched before pulling his leg away as though to defend it from further assault. 
The Vee’s truly were something else, you decided as the tall moth demon continued with another playful gibe.
“Oh no, Voxy, if anything we should be more worried about Velv’s little girlfriend here.” Valentino grinned as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, you inhaled sharply as you were pulled closer. “Is she treating you well, doll?”
“Of course she is.” You couldn’t help it, really. The words rolled off your tongue before you could think better of it. Velvette raised an eyebrow as a lazy smirk Oh there was no doubt in your mind that the influencer would tease you endlessly later.  The way that Velvette flashed you a lazy smirk made your stomach do a little flip. With flushed cheeks, you cleared your throat while the television demon across from you barked out a laugh.
“You can relax, we’re not gonna bite. Why don’t we sit down and you tell us about yourself?” Vox began, though a smirk overtook his welcoming smile as he went on to tease the youngest overlord further. “We’ve already heard so much from Velvette, but I’d much rather hear about you without all the mushy shit.” 
“Oh for fucks sake, what happened to actually behaving yourselves tonight?” the influencer groaned, though there was no real venom to her words. This prompted another chuckle from the other overlords, you even found yourself stifling a laugh.
“Oh my dear we are behaving.” Though the grin on Valentino’s smug face suggested otherwise. You watched as the three continued going back and forth as you were led to a lounge Despite her protests, Velvette was clearly at ease. This was going to be an interesting night, you thought as a fond smile took to your lips.
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Note
Hey saffy lemur... could you maybe do a scenario for the 141 and König and reader? Where they each have their first kiss with them and what the kiss is like? I love your writing you're so good at fluff,! If you don't want to it's okay, thanks!
Thank you so much! I hope this is what you were looking for❤️😊
141 + König x Reader's First Kiss
Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, sexual references
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Simon Ghost Riley-
Your first kiss with Simon was sweet. After months of mutual pining, he'd finally mustered the courage to ask you out on a date.
He took you to a small cafe, where it wouldn't be too busy. He was a perfect gentleman the whole date, and you couldn't be any more enamored with him because of it.
He'd shown you a whole new side of him tonight, one that he hadn't shown anyone in years. He'd had his fair share of flings and one night stands, but you were different. Something about you made him want something more. Something real.
He'd walked you up to your doorstep later that night, after your date had ended. "I had a nice night Y/N, thank you." He said as he leaned against your door.
"Me too, Simon. I really hope we can do this again. It was nice getting to know the man behind the mask. I quite like him." You smiled warmly up at him.
Simon felt butterflies in his stomach from the way you were looking at him. Nobody's looked at him like that in years.
He looked deeply in your eyes before leaning down to slot his lips against yours. The kiss was nothing short of perfect. His lips had felt so soft against yours.
His finger rested under your chin, pulling your head up toward him more so he could deepen the kiss. Pulling away slowly after a few moments, he smiled down at you before placing a kiss on your forehead.
"I'll see you soon, yeah?" He asked, hopeful. The kiss solidified what he knew he felt inside. He was falling for you, and falling hard.
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
Your first kiss with Johnny was unexpected. The two of you had been friends for years. You had a friendship filled with relentless teasing, late nights gossiping, and lingering touches.
You were out with him late at night at a bar close to base. The two of you wanted to let loose, and ended up having one too many.
At one point during the night, you found yourself staring at Johnny. He was licking his chapped lips all night, and it was driving you crazy. You'd always harbored feelings for the Scot, and it certainly didn't help you were undeniably attracted to him either.
"Need some chapstick?" You teased, catching Johnny's attention. He turned his gaze away from the game on TV and looked at you with a smirk.
"Think I may need more than just chapstick, darlin." He sent you a sly wink.
You stifled a giggle at his reply. "Was that supposed to be a pickup line? That was awful, Johnny."
Johnny would be sure to blame it on the drinks later, but your little giggle had done something to him in that moment. Ignoring any doubts he had in his mind, he leaned forward and crashed his lips onto yours.
The kiss was heated, and messy. Both of you being under the influence of alcohol certainly didn't make for a very romantic kiss. There was teeth clashing, tongue and a mix of saliva all at once. But you weren't complaining, and neither was he.
"Fuck me." He pulled away, with a darkness to his eyes that wasn't there before. "Let's get out of here, yeah?"
You nodded your head, and let Johnny lead the way to a night neither of you would forget.
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Price-
Your first kiss with Price was rough. The amount of sexual/romantic tension between the two of you was palpable, and had been since you'd joined his task force.
You'd needed help with some defense techniques and had asked if he'd be willing to spar with you to help out.
You'd been sparring with him for the last 20 minutes and were working up quite the sweat. Price wasn't one to go easy on you, and you'd narrowly missed being punched a handful of times.
You'd lost your footing as you tried to deflect his latest punch unsuccessfully, causing you and John to go tumbling to the ground. He held his arms out on either side of you to prevent himself from falling on top of you.
Trying to catch your breath from the physical exertion, you looked up to find Price already looking down at you. His gaze had flitted down to your lips and back up to your eyes.
You swallowed thickly, unsure of what his next move was going to be. He gave a small smirk before leaning down to connect your lips with his.
The kiss was bruising. Like in your spar session, Price didn't hold himself back when kissing you either. His lips were rough, and the kiss was anything but soft.
"I think I won that spar, yeah?" He asked, pulling away. "Now it's time to claim my prize."
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Gaz-
Your first kiss with Gaz was playful. You and him were playing Mario Kart at your flat, and things were getting tense. Each of you were self proclaimed masters at the game and decided to do a ten round game to see who was the ultimate winner.
The two of you were sitting side by side, deeply concentrating on the game. This was the last round of the match, and you and Gaz were neck and neck, the winner being decided by this match.
It was the last lap, and Gaz was right on your tail. At the last minute, he had gotten a red shell to use on you, which allowed him to push past you and win the race.
"AHH! DID YOU SEE THAT? I WON, I WON!" Gaz cried out, flinging his arms in the air, sending the controller flying.
You laughed at his enthusiasm and were about to say something before he cut you off with a fierce kiss.
You and Gaz had been friends for a while. Both of you were close and found yourselves in each other's company. You'd always had a small attraction to the man, but never vocalize your feelings.
Your mind was hazy as you tried to grasp what was happening. You'd sat frozen as he kissed you, unable to move.
He pulled away with wide eyes. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I should've asked, was so."
You cut him off by placing your lips against his. He immediately reciprocated, pushing you backward into the couch.
"Shit, can I get kissed like this every time I win?"
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König-
König's and your first kiss was timid. You'd been on a few dates together, never ending with the kiss you'd wanted so badly from him.
You knew of his anxieties, though. You knew better than to push him into something he wasn't comfortable with. So you waited patiently for him to make his move.
The two of you were on a picnic date, at a little lake by your house. The date was quiet, but sweet. König had told you some childhood stories, in exchange for a few of your own.
As the two of you finished your sandwiches, a comfortable silence fell over you. Both of you often looking at each other, exchanging warm glances.
At one point, he turned to you with a small smile and cleared his throat. "Maus….may I… may I kiss you?"
You nodded your head with a smile and waited for König to make a move. He leaned in slowly and placed his lips on yours softly, almost as if he'd break you if he'd put any more pressure.
He pulled away only a second later, a light pink dusting his cheeks. "I.. I hope that was alright for you."
"That was perfect Kö.. could I…maybe get another?" You asked, your own cheeks now turning pink.
König felt his heart flutter, and gladly leaned back in to capture your lips in his once more. This time, kissing you with just a bit more fervor than before.
König could get used to this, this domestic bliss. You were starting to show him slowly but surely that the man beneath the mask was worth loving.
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A/N: Thanks for reading!!!❤️😊
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ddarker-dreams · 7 months
Text
mini love report — albedo
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relationship health diagnosis — 90%*
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symptom one — reserved
albedo favors a reclusive lifestyle. dealing with social nuances and niceties is a draining prospect, he'd rather forgo them altogether. it's for this reason that rumors swirl around the alchemist. he's been described as cold and calculating. which, to be fair, isn't completely wrong. if he'd rather be elsewhere it isn't difficult to tell. still, that unquenchable thirst to peel back more layers of this mysterious world hasn't made him unfeeling.
this public perception never bothered him until he realized it may influence your opinion of him. this explains his uncharacteristic effort to seek you out. it starts off awkward, as you're certain the chief alchemist has more important matters to tend to. his attempts win you over slowly yet surely. it’s endearing, how his stoic visage belies frustration when he struggles to keep the conversation going, having exhausted platitudes.
you being the exception to his preference for isolation is rather flattering.
symptom two — knowledgeable
albedo is a natural educator. there's hardly a moment where his field of study isn't bouncing around in his mind. with sucrose and timaeus, he keeps his teachings succinct and formal. when he's sharing his recent findings with you, however, it's a different story. his monotonous voice takes on a lively cadence. comparatively speaking, at least. no one else is privy to his nerdy side. self-consciousness catches up, when he notes thirty minutes have gone by and he's only on his second of ten samples.
there you sit. bundled up to stave off the dragonspine's unforgiving weather, contentedly sipping hot cocoa he had ready for your arrival (a suggestion from klee). you tilt your head and ask why he's stopped. it's in that instant he realizes miracles aren't limited to physical manifestations. they can come in any form. even one as simple as you trying to resume the conversation, despite getting tongue-tied by the alchemical jargon.
future discoveries that will amuse you hold more weight to him than anything actually groundbreaking...
symptom three — conscientious
if you ever happen upon albedo's dense collection of relationship-related reading material, please keep it to yourself, lest he die of embarrassment. he wants to get this right! interpersonal relationships aren't his forte, he's not so blinded by pride to acknowledge this shortcoming. he knows he can be blunt and accidentally trample over feelings. he refuses to seek the counsel of his peers, which leaves him at the mercy of klee's tutelage.
he hypothesizes that the lack of self-awareness in children makes them conducive to offering unfiltered advice. gift-giving is her field of choice and her standards are high. almost every trinket, flower, or artwork you've received has undergone rigorous quality control. he was amazed that this klee verification system went over so well with you, hence his reoccurring patronage.
he cares a lot. expressing it might not come naturally to him, but he's willing to overthrow his nature for your benefit.
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primary area of concern
...
albedo has some baggage regarding his creation. his search for unraveling the mystery behind his creator's parting challenging, while not all-consuming, influences him to some extent.
truthfully, there isn't anything that'd place major strain on your relationship. there are times he discovers a secret of the world that would've been better of remaining unknown. so long as it isn't anything that'd endanger you, he handles overwhelming information quite well.
although he's often holed up in his laboratory, you're welcome to come and observe. he doesn't allow his research to isolate him from you. he involves you whenever he can and gladly engages in your interests as well. he tends to absorb them, returning a few days later with the expertise of a scholar.
you've scored yourself a solid homunculus.
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prognosis
his interest in you is a flame that'll never wane. you add warmth and color to his life, he adds stability to yours. the memories you cherish are always the small, seemingly insignificant ones, that steadily build. the sticky notes you leave on his desk reminding him to take breaks. a homemade meal he's left for you to warm up for those busy mornings. enjoying a tea party with klee where albedo gives a 'toast' to his generous host, dodoco, spoken with a straight face.
these scintillating fragments form a greater whole.
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*the universe has tried (and failed) to wrench you apart (0-20) your friends are praying that you'll break up (21-40) 'well it could/has be worse' bargaining mindset (41-60) a lil messiness as a treat (61-80) pure and wholesome (81-100)
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khuzena · 5 months
Text
This bitter life.
pairing: Blade x g/n!reader
Part 1, Part 2.
Summary: Life is not fair, that is the truth every being must accept. Yet, there’s a part in Blade’s mara-struck mind, that he cannot accept this type of ending, he will not allow it, but he has no right to deny fate itself.
In other words, you die and he’s miserable.
Cw. It’s very fluffy trust me, Reader is absolutely fucked, you die, unrequited requited love, not proofread, really slowburn, character development, terminally ill, ansgt only bcoz fluff is for the weak, life is unfair.
A/n: You already know what it means when I upload a fanfic. If you don’t, my only warning is, shit’s going down.
(wrote this bc bladie won the poll for my other fic of which character u guys want a fic for next 🥳)
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For all of Blade’s life, life has always been and will always be truly and utterly miserable.
If he were asked to recount the many times he wished he just died, he would lose count. From a promising life with the high-cloud quintet, from being the renowned crafter of weapons, to being just Blade. His pain does not give him the liberty to dream of a future, he does not have the privilege to close his eyes and dream of his youth when he is only constantly plagued with the thousands of screams who scream his name.
For a man who does not have the right to love, the right to dream and wish for death, just this once, the Aeons were kind enough to give him you.
He met you in unforeseen circumstances, he was gravely injured after another fight with some soldiers on some planet. Blade knows that he won’t die now, but he feels like dying. His stomach slashed by a poison so advanced it eats him from inside out, but oh how kind of the gods to bless him you.
”Hey, stay awake!” It was the first time in his life he’s heard a desperate cry, not out of fear for your life, but for his.
You did not know him, neither did he know you but it was like second nature to protect him.
The destroyer of worlds, the monster from the Stellaron hunters, the exiled one, you only saw a dying man.
He felt a damp cloth pressing on his stomach, “Please hang on.” Just who were you to tell him what to do? You just had to be there at that exact moment. Through blurry eyes, he could not make out what your face looked like, not like he could ever remember.
Blade could remember your voice, it was loud yet soothing, then he felt bandages wrap around his torso as someone carried him. He lost consciousness that night.
His eyes flutter open, was he really that weak to fall under the influence of that poison?
“You’re awake.”
He groans and sits up, his spine hurts like hell. “Who the hell are you?”
”Hey buddy, no need for hostility, I’m the one who saved your life.” His eyes follow you when you roll your eyes at him, ignoring his shit and jotting down whatever on your clipboard.
He stays silent when you come closer to him, your face getting a little too close than his liking, “Can you say ahh?”
Blade hesitates but he obliges, for the first time in his life, to a stranger, something in him tells him to trust you. “Ahh…”
You turn on your penlight and point it at his throat before sliding it back into your pockets, “Good, good” Blade doesn’t know what you’re doing when you stare in his eyes for 2 minutes, must be you inspecting something.
”You’re all fine, I’m surprised that you heal fast. Anyone who takes in such poison and exceeds 4 doses would die in an instant.” He thinks you’re weird.
In just 3 days, Blade was out of the hospital, Kafka tracked down where he was and was relieved when she found out Blade was alright.
“You’re really reckless, Bladie.”
Blade only scoffs hearing her words, it may be the truth but who cares? Certainly not him.
Just as the two were leaving the hospital for good, you followed him.
”You…” He saw you panting and gripping your knees from the exhaustion of chasing him down, he left without even informing the nurses.
He doesn’t know why you followed him, “Can I atleast have your name?”
Kafka blinks in surprise before turning away, as if she wasn’t witnessing whatever bullshit was going down.
”Excuse me?”
”Your name.”
”Why do I have to tell you?”
”I saved your life for fucks sake!”
Blade rolls his eyes, narrowing his eyes at you but he just gives up, “Fine, Blade.”
”What?”
”Do I have to repeat myself?”
He’s really mean, but he doesn’t scare you, which surprises him. You don't flinch at his words, but whatever. He thinks that he won’t have to see you again. (You almost crack up a laugh, who the fuck name's their child Blade?)
You don’t push him any further and let him leave, you want to learn more about him.
So for the following days, you ask people if they knew who that ‘Blade’ was, where did he work at, what he truly was because which idiot would end up wounded in a ditch at a place that’s practically considered a warzone in your planet. Not only that, but you were also intrigued and curious about his ability to heal fast and resist the poison.
You don’t find any information regarding that strange man, but one thing’s for sure, he’s dangerous.
Like clockwork, Blade comes again to the planet “Clove-V” to exterminate some pests because some idiot decided to mess with the Stellearon hunters. Gut a soldier, gain information, leave– is what he’s supposed to do.
Blade stares at the bloodied sword of his, “This goddamn poison again.”
He feels weak, clutching his stomach and he needs to leave before anyone catches up on him again. So he leaves the building only to drop unconscious.
Again, he is back to that familiar hospital room where he was just a few weeks ago.
”You’re back.” You scrunch your nose again, the squeaky writing on the clipboard hurting his ears.
He’s too tired to say something snarky, but he sighs in annoyance.
”You look worse than last time,” his gaze never leaves you when you come closer to inspect his throat and eyes like last time, “How do you keep getting in situations like these?”
He stays quiet, but you keep persisting with him to give you an answer.
Was he an assassin? A murderer?! One of the IPC slaves– no, no, he looks different from them, a little too proper (but bloodied), maybe from the Xianzhou luofu? So when you heal his wounds, you can’t help but ask, “Are you a murderer?”
Must you really force an answer out of him?
”Do I not look like one?” Were you such a fool to ask such an obvious answer?
You sat back down on the comfort of the cushion chair, “I didn’t want to assume”
”Now you know.”
“Yeah.”
He’s curious, when you find out that he’s a murderer, you’re not afraid, you do not run away or distance yourself, “Why do you kill people?”
He stays silent again, you don’t know the specifics, but you know the answer.
“I’ll get going now,” clearing your throat, “Just use the call button if you need help, one of the nurses will attend to you.”
And again, for 2 days, he is out of the hospital.
“You really keep ending up in that hospital, don’t you?” Kafka laughs, throwing away the Blade’s admission.
As they left, he could see you staring at him from your office. It was embarrassing enough that he caught you watching him leave so intently, Blade saw the curtains immediately close.
Again and again, he keeps getting wound up in that same hospital, might as well be stuck there forever.
”I’m no longer surprised you’re here again Blade.” It’s weird, when his name slips out from your lips, it sounds less scary (people often associate his name with fear and murder, but you call him like he’s any other man)
8 visits to your clinic, you might as well be his personal doctor.
“I know you’re a murderer but do you constantly have to be injured every month? I’m starting to think you’re getting injured just to see me.”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” He scoffs.
”I was merely jesting.”
He cocks his head to the side, he sees you more often than he meets with Sam. You turn on your penlight again, unlike his first visit, he obliges without putting up a fight.
“Nothing unusual, you’re good to go.” You speak in between coughs, which surprises Blade. Lately, you were sicker than usual, pale and run-down.
”Are you okay?”
”Excuse me?”
”Nevermind.”
He should mind his own business, this is strictly a patient and doctor relationship. But he can’t help but wonder, if you looked that sick, shouldn’t you be on leave? You leave his hospital room without a word, he’s still curious.
He left, but this time, he didn’t see you looking out from your office window to watch where he was going.
Months pass by, by now he would’ve forgotten about you. But in the back of his head, he’s still wondering how are you? It isn’t for him to inquire about your personal life. He is still tempted to know more about you, so, he ends up wounded on that planet again (much to silverwolf’s dismay, he was supposed to be on a different mission)
He wakes up again in that hospital room, your coughs were loud enough to wake him up, “You keep coming back, I should just give you medicine so you don’t have to always end up here”
In truth, he just wanted to see you. It was unlike him to think about someone this much but he can’t help but be curious (worried, but he would never admit that.)
He felt the back of your palm press on his forehead, good thing he didn’t have a fever, “Your temperature’s okay.” He is worried, you speak in between coughs he could barely register your words. For a moment when you touched his skin, he felt his mara quelled, even for just a mere second.
“I want to ask, who are you really?” He’s taken by surprise by your question, something he expected but not one he expected now.
”I’m a stellaron hunter.” Oh.
A stellaron hunter, huh? “Why did you become one?”
He asks himself, why did he become one? Other than for when that day comes, he will be free, he will die. He can’t form a full answer, “I don’t know.” It’s better to give an answer, to lie, rather than be someone who cannot answer such a simple question.
“I see.” But you see through him, but you’re not close enough to him to question him about who he truly is. So you’ll know him through medicine, you’ll heal him to get to know who he is if he cannot give you a clear answer.
You gave him your name, because after 9 visits, he should know your name already. “What?”
”My name.”
He nods along, he’ll make sure to not forget it. You were sure he’s okay now, his vitals are back to normal, but before you leave, he calls out your name.
“You…” There was a look of confusion on your face, “Nevermind” He wanted to ask about your health, why were you still working? By seeing your current health, you’re close to death at this point. But he keeps his concerns to himself; after all, what does he know of you other than a doctor?
But even months pass by, he still wants to understand you. You do not look at him with contempt unlike his victims, and even if he had visited 12 times now, you did not seem annoyed; maybe even thrilled with the company.
He does not care for hobbies or games, he’s not like silverwolf whose life revolves around games and other things, he’s not like kafka who takes pleasure in playing with her food (her victims), he’s definitely not gentle and kind like Firefly.
So Blade does not understand why you’re fond of things like these, a monopoly board? Really? It’s stupid, very. But it’s the only way you two can understand each other, even if it means wasting time like this.
You rolled a 6 and landed on a community chest, “God damn it.”
He squints his eye when you got a card that said ‘Go to jail’, what the fuck was this game even about? “I don’t get this game”
He really doesn’t, but he rolls another and lands on some unclaimed property and buys it, “No shit, but you’re a lucky bastard.”
“I don’t get why we’re playing this stupid game, even checkers seem more appealing.” Finally getting out of jail, you rolled a 5 and landed on his property, going bankrupt. “You know what? Fuck this game.”
He doesn’t even understand how he won, he’d much prefer if you two read in silence or something. “That was a stupid game”
“You’re stupid.”
”Excuse me?”
Then you two go at it and fight again, but it was fun. The most fun he’s had in years (as if he ever knew what fun truly is)
But life is not kind, time is limited and you cannot trade gems or blood for 5 more minutes. He’s known that rule all his life, to never get attached ever again because he’ll be miserable, he’ll lose himself the way he lost who he truly was when he was still Yingxing. Yet, humans will always be humans; mortals, immortals, they are the same. And he is no exception.
After his 23rd visit for the past 2 years– going 3, he remembers small details about you. You studied at this university for a few extra years because you kept getting a failing grade, you like roping him up in stupid games (you tried to make him play twister once, it was you who got a twisted ankle), you like reading and everything else.
For all his cursed, miserable life, he slowly found reason, a part of him feels human again.
“You don’t look good.”
A stifled cough escaped you, “You think?”
You were on sick leave, he found out where you lived after asking forcing one of the nurses where you lived. Blade found you on the couch, sprawled with only a thin blanket covering you. He doesn’t care for anyone, just this once, though, just this once.
”Have you eaten yet?” It makes you laugh at how caring he is, the most unexpected side of him, after all.
You shook your head, “No.”
A cough seized you so suddenly, Blade’s worries did not go away. He doesn’t know how to cook, much less how to take care of a person.
”You have a fever,” he hands you a glass of water, but it was not enough to ease your pain.
You wish to close your eyes, but even the small contracting of your muscles ache, when you drink, it hurts, when you move, it hurts. It hurts to live at this point but you endure, “Why did you come?”
“I had to.”
”Why exactly?”
”Just shut up and let me take care of you.”
You could only faintly chuckle at his words when he gets a warm cloth to put it on your forehead, “What else do I do?”
Nighttime came but he has not left yet, he can’t leave just yet, “Tell me.”
There was no use, whatever he did would not help you get through with this illness of yours. “Just tell me.” You did not have the energy to argue or talk, but he did not get the hint so he continued to pester you for an answer.
”Can you please stop talking? I need to sleep.”
”Fine.”
Tomorrow came, only Blade was right beside you, staring intently at you; a part of him afraid you won’t wake up again.
”You’re awake.” Blade always had that nonchalant expression, but his eyes were heavy with worry. Were you dreaming or was he really right beside you and worried for your well being? A part of you wished you still were, having company is the best when you’re ill.
You coughed softly, “Yes.”
Why didn’t he leave? Was he worried? You must be insane to think that way, he is just your old patient who just so happened to always end up in the hospital under your care.
The man in front of you sat beside you and stared at you for a while, not knowing what to do, “What do I do next?”
Ah. He rarely shows emotion on his face but his pupils dilate for a split second, you can’t die but you were so close to dying, he’s no doctor, he has no expertise in taking care of anyone but for just this moment he wished he did.
“Just keep me company.” He nods.
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Note: cries cries cries bc the full fic is so long i have to make it into 2 parts :((( im abt to post part 2 pls pls wait 😔😔😔
Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 
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