#Whoops that got long

[ocean-blue-orchids]

“We need more complex female characters!” You guys can’t even handle Toriel dating after her divorce

Fun fact: having an ex husband who is (at least outwardly) a nice person does not suddenly mean that you are an evil person! Sometimes people fall out of love with nice people and they DO NOT OWE IT TO THE OTHER PERSON TO STAY TOGETHER! Just because Asgore is a nice person and father does not entitle him to “winning back” Toriel?? And for those saying it’s hurting Kris ?? Do you want Asgore and Toriel to stay together “for the kids”??? Ah yes that is historically a good thing that has lead to stable relationships. Toriel is a kind mom who invites Kris’ friends to stay over and have pie on a moments notice, and yes, her dance party with Sans was bad timing-FROM KRIS’ PERSPECTIVE. A mother has responsibilities for her children but she is also a PERSON, and Toriel has no reason to assume Kris has just been on a Deltarune Tomorrow level crazy adventure. And for those saying “why is she inviting a stranger into the house” SHE INVITED SUZIE IN! And no hate to Susie but at the same time Toriel met Sans, Susie was still a VERY violent bully, and Toriel welcomed her in nonetheless! Toriel is a mom but also a unique person who shouldn’t be demonized for living her life, and ESPECIALLY should not be expected to just take her ex husband back because he’s sad and a nice guy are you loco

[into-fiction]

can you write a sappy drunk galinda? i can see elphie just trying to keep her on her feet while she just looks up at her with those big brown eyes and is like “you make me so happy.” and elphaba obviously just melts

sure! i love drunk glinda. i somehow managed to fit both sappy drunk AND sad drunk glinda into 'brave' purely for self indulgence lol.

double posted this one to ao3. enjoy~~

///

"Elphie!"

Elphaba barely manages to get her arms out in time to catch a stumbling Galinda, the blonde giggling wildly as she tumbles forward. Thankfully, she isn't currently holding a drink, but it's clear from the way she leans into Elphaba that she's already had more than she said she would.

"Galindaa," Elphaba groans. "You promised you wouldn't get drunk."

Personally, Elphaba doesn't know what the appeal is. She hates the taste of alcohol, and she hates the idea of losing control of her own actions even more. The thought of getting drunk enough to be giggly and dumb like this turns her stomach.

"I'm not drunk!" Galinda protests. It's a ridiculous statement considering she's swaying slightly, her pupils wide and dark as she beams up at Elphaba.

"Yes, you definitely are. Which means we're going back to school. Right now."

"Wha- noooo," Galinda whines, digging her heels in as Elphaba tries to urge her forward. The Ozdust swims around them, a haze of lights and sound and sweaty bodies that makes a headache pound faintly in the back of Elphaba's skull.

"Yes, Galinda, you're drunk and I'm tired. We're leaving."

"But Elphie! You haven't danced with me yet!"

Elphaba rolls her eyes, still trying to move forward as Galinda latches tighter to her arm, nearly falling into her as she trips over her own feet. "And I'm not going to. I told you earlier: I don't dance."

"But--"

"No."

"But!"

"No."

Galinda pouts harder, glossy lower lip shining as it catches the bouncing beams of light. Her skin is pale in the darkness, her dress glittering. Her hair is messier than usual from dancing all night, and her makeup is smudged by the corner of her eyes.

She looks ridiculous.

(she looks beautiful.)

"Pleaseeee, Elphie?" Galinda asks once more, her voice soft and her eyes wide. Elphaba has to turn away from the sight, Galinda's face open and earnest in a way her typical mask often doesn't allow.

Fuck.

"....fine."

Galinda squeals with joy, bouncing on her toes as she leans up and presses a sloppy kiss to Elphaba's cheek. The other girl can feel herself blush hard, her heart skipping so many beats she nearly keels over.

Galinda will be the death of Elphaba someday; she just knows it.

She lets herself be dragged out to the dancefloor, the music thumping as the band plays in the corner, bodies moving in a fluid rush that blurs around her as her focus narrows to the way Galinda wraps her arms around her neck and pulls her close.

"Like this," the blonde tells her, humming under her breath as she sways.

It's funny because, usually, Galinda tends to come off to Elphaba as a bit stiff and awkward and uptight. She's so worried about how she looks that her every move is tense and offbeat, overthought to hell and back.

But here, in the dark anonymity of the Ozdust, with enough alcohol in her system to make her relaxed and brave, Galinda moves easily, a natural rhythm to her that sends heat rushing through Elphaba as the other girl bites her lower lip slightly and looks up at her with hooded eyes.

"Come on, Elphie," Galinda breathes. "Dance with me."

And Oz help her, but Elphaba would do just about anything Galinda told her at that moment.

There's a single brief second where Elphaba has to wonder if being drunk is contagious, because her head is swimming and her palms are sweating and there is a fizzy sort of energy in her veins that makes her want to do something stupid.

The music fills her ears and drowns out the sound of her pounding heart. The previous dark tint of a growing headache and lingering exhaustion is washed away by the brightness of Galinda's voice and touch and smile.

She loses track of time, Galinda pulling her out of the crush of people to grab more drinks, shoving a cup in Elphaba's hand that she's pleased to notice is sweet but non-alcoholic.

She dives right back onto the dance floor with an even sloppier Galinda at her side, the other girl giggling and stumbling until Elphaba is practically holding her up, their bodies getting closer and closer until she's lost track of where one girl ends and the other begins.

"W-we should really head back soon," Elphaba tries to say, an electric buzz under her skin despite the fact that she knows she's completely sober. Galinda has her head against Elphaba's shoulder, her palm pressed to Elphaba's lower back.

"Mmm, maybe," Galinda hums. She pulls back enough to blink up at Elphaba, eyes dark and shiny, the various lights reflecting off her pale hair as she smiles.

"What?" Elphaba asks after several seconds pass where Galinda doesn't say anything else. She wonders how much of a mess she looks when even Galinda looks a bit rough. Her cheeks are flushed and her brow is damp and she's got the dopiest little look on her face.

"Nothing," Galinda giggles, tipping onto her toes so she can press a finger to Elphaba's cheek. "You look happy."

Elphaba hadn't realized she'd been smiling this whole time. She hadn't noticed the bubbly warmth in her chest. Galinda is grinning at her, and she's never looked quite so human before.

Elphaba is so utterly fucked it's not even funny.

"Are you? Happy?" Galinda asks.

Elphaba swallows hard, pulse racing as Galinda somehow moves even closer, her dark lashes brushing against pale skin as she searches Elphaba's face. "Yeah," Elphaba whispers. "I am."

She shakes herself, glancing over Galinda's head so she doesn't have to be confronted with the full force of the blonde's beaming smile. Her chest rattles and quakes, tender and fragile and falling apart under the force of feelings she refuses to name.

"Are you?" she quips back. "Happy?"

She has a pretty good idea of the answer, what with the blonde still unsteady on her feet from all the alcohol in her system and the way she can't go twenty seconds without giggling or breaking into song. Still-

"Yes!" Galinda chirps, nodding so hard her whole body bobs up and down. "Very! Happy! I am!"

Oh great. She's lost full sentences. They're definitely leaving now.

Then Galinda throws almost all her weight into Elphaba, so quickly Elphaba yelps as she grabs onto her, pulling her into her so she doesn't go tumbling to the sticky floor. They end up chest to chest, Galinda having tried to wrap her arms around Elphaba in a hug.

Her breath ghosts over Elphaba's ear as she speaks, sighing softly and sinking into Elphaba's hold. "You make me happy, Elphie."

And damn her all to hell, but Elphaba can't help the way she practically melts at the words, her insides turned to goo as she hides her face in Galinda's hair and breathes in the sweet scent of everything she loves.

"You make me happy, too."

[familyofpaladins]

You ever just get stuck by the silliest au idea and then suddenly its consumed your mind?

Anyway TMNT Princess Bride au

Most characters taken from the 2003 series, but personality of turtles might be closer to Rise series

(I wrote this in the notes of my phone so forgive typos and weird thought process lol)

Casey is buttercup. April is westly (Originally, and what inspired this whole thing. Was that karai was buttercup and Chapman was westley lol)

The turtle bros work for stockman (bishop?) Because he says he has he will help them find their father's killer. A man who has 3 scars along his chin.

Casey just a simple farmer (oh my god. The farm house) with April there to help feed chickens and milk cows and such and such (Would she only say as you wish?? Would she be that submissive? Idk. Maybe she would as long as he promised not to call her babe lol) (LMAO HER PHRASE IS DONT CALL ME BABE INSTEAD OF AS YOU WISH LOLOLOL)

Eventually she goes off to maybe get soem schooling or soemthing. But her ship gets [sunk/destroyed] by the Dread Pirate Krang. April doesn't return and after years Casey believes she died.

Then the local royalty happens to pass by and the princess (karai)(who is told needs to find a husband so she can finally become queen) decides to make Casey her groom.

Casey still in a depressive gloom doesnt do much to reject her.

One day when Casey is out on a run (one of his few joys) he gets kidnapped by 4 demihuman turtles . :D

But then. A stranger begins to follow them. A (wo)man in black

I've mostly been going from 03 inspiration of character. But the turtles might be a little more Rise based.

Leo is inigo foil. The master swordsman. And the banter. "You seem a decent fellow, I hate to kill you" "you seem a decent fellow. I hate to die" I am not left handed. He Asks april "ever seen a man with 3 scars along his chin?" "Do you ask everyone that question?

Raph is Fezzik . Big. The muscle. (Kind) Mikey doesnt have a direct foil. May have his own individual fight with april or possibly works with raph. The muscle and taunting words and stuff idk

Stockman is arrogant and thinks hes the smartest around. Accepts April's challenge.

Don is there to keep a hold on Casey. (He plays the game a long in his mind that it doenst actually take any posion). Once stockman is dead, Don just asks for th truth about what happen to the rest of his brothers, April tells him they are just knocked out and will be fine. He says he doenst really care about keeping casey as they were just doing it to work with stockman and well he's dead so no point. Bye crazy smart lady and sad prince to be. And he leaves to meet up with his brothers.

Cue april trying to lead casey away and him being like. Oh you're the pirate that killed the love of my life! Blah blah blah so you can shove it babe!

*falling down hill* doooon't caaaaaall me baaaaaaabe! Oh my sweet april ehat have I done!? *throws self down cliff*

They go through the forest (lmao splinter as rous) (not actually but the image is funny)

And Karai and her advisor Oroku Saki meet them and casey begs her to let april go instead of killing her.

April notes that the advisor has 3 scars a long his chin. That's right. Shredder is what's his face and killed splinter. (Sorry splints. You had to die in this au)

April is taken to Bishop who experiments on his death machine. Just doing his job and having fun with his toys.

BUT

shredder shows up when he learns about the demihumans and asks too many questions about the demi humans shes ever encountered. (Theres a small but decent population in the kingdom) but especially that turtles she encountered last. April doesn't care (she does but more concerned about casey) and asks instead about casey and telling him shes never going to stop.

Karai may or may not visit April… idk. But honestly she doesnt really care about marrying casey but she needs to in order to get the crown.

Anyway its shredder who throws a hissy fit and cranks up the machine "killing" april

Meanwhile the turtles have regrouped but leo is super depressed because he failed and now theh have no lead on their father's killer. Brothers eventually pull him out of it.

They hear aprils cry?? They want "the woman in black" to help them??

Idk they go look for her

("Father guide my sword" is SUCH a thing Leo would do and the humor of it hitting the tree then opening the door is peak tmnt.)

Oh no shes dead

Enter miracle max. I mean the ancient one."she is only MOSTLY dead"

Tang shen: "I'm not a witch! I'm your daughter!" (Maybe. This might change)

They all have to push raph on the cart to break into the castle. Hun is the door keeper lol

Leo goes after shredder. Raph is hauling April around. Ikd what mikey and don are doing exactly. Maybe they split off to look for karai and/or casey

Leo: RAPH!! RAAAAPH. HE'S GETTING AWAY! RAPH

Raph: sighs and puts april down carefully and goes knocks down the door for leo. Comes back to everyone gone. "Now whered everybody go??"

April somehow gets to Casey's room. Casey is thrilled.

Karai shows up… idk. Ask why she really is doing this. Is it what she really wants? Or is it just what shredder has convinced her she needs to do (marry become queen go to war and take over other kingdoms)

Karai seems to consider it (maybe) but still cant have her groom just be carted off. April says okay let's fight then. I've taken on demihimans and been dead and came back, you really want to fight?

Karai considers and concedes. They tie her up so it doesnt look like she just wlt them go.

Karai let's them all leave and ends up marrying one of the chamber men[squire/stable boy/man servant] (is that a real term???) Chapman.

Leo don and mikey all catch up and somehow raph went and found them all horses to ride out on. Happily ever after

Cody is the grandson. Hamato yoshi/splinter is the grandfather

[risingsouls]

Nabooru, why do you think Vegeta is worthy of being forgiven? He too has killed many innocents -- Earthlings, Namekians -- and just out of mere cruelty. Why do you think he deserves a chance of redemption while others don't? Do you think you may be biased about him?

Wednesday W's || Open!

" It's about time someone asked me rather than whining to someone else about it. " She rolled her eyes. " Let me correct the record for you. "

" For starters, I have never once said or implied Vegeta is worthy of redemption or forgiveness or anything. Neither of us are, in my opinion, and neither of us should have gotten a second chance. We died on Namek and should have stayed dead. Just as our people did. No matter the reason, we both committed mass atrocities, and Vegeta even enjoyed it. While his goals have changed, he is still unapologetic for the things he did. Vegeta himself, I imagine, would not ask for forgiveness nor consider himself redeemed or a 'better person'.

" So, again, I have never said he deserves forgiveness or redemption or whatever else you want to call it. It is everyone else tacking such terms to him, not me, and not him. I will never understand why. My guess is to make themselves feel better since they either aren't strong enough to take him out or don't have the guts or desire to do so anymore. Perhaps this question is better posed to them, rather than, me.

" But I understand why you've come to me, and I'll get to that. First, I want to explain why it might look like I've forgiven him or accepted some narrative of redemption when I've allowed him to be close to me and helped him where I could. Why I've allowed a close companionship with him. It's simple: the two of us committed the same crimes. It's not for me to dole out his punishment. To point my finger and berate his crimes when I have done the same. It is not my place to play judge, jury, and executioner for him. That is someone else's job, and I can't force anyone to try and take on that role if they do not have the desire to. As I said, I know for my part and I'm sure, to a degree, for his, if someone did seek their vengeance, we would let them have it. I'm not sure I would even fight back unless it's what they wanted.

" If you want to see this as me forgiving him, enabling or saying what he did wasn't that bad, or as, perhaps, me being a coward for not killing him and then taking my own life or something, then I can't help that. But this is the truth: I have no more forgiven him than I have forgiven myself. I do not believe either of us are worthy of anything, least of all this second chance we were accidentally granted. "

" Now, to address your obvious attempts to defend Ninazu and her idiotic decision to 'reform' and protect someone who wanted to erase every single mortal just because he decided he didn't like them, who started his zero mortals plan and has likely already killed countless innocents just for existing, who tormented one of her closest friends, and why you think me being kind to Vegeta makes me a hypocrite. For starters, I'm not and never was looking to reform Vegeta. At best, I offered him a place to go and someone to talk to that would understand him at least on some level, since we've been through similar under Frieza' rule. I have and will never defend his actions. I have and will never say he should have been given this second chance. I will never say that anyone who thinks he's a good person now is correct. I would never protect him from someone who wishes to exact their revenge or kill him for his crimes.

" Unlike Ninazu.

" Nina doesn't know Zamasu. This garbage that she 'sees something in him' is unfounded and, frankly, insane. He is a psychotic god who would have killed her if Vegito and Trunks weren't there to protect her. The only reason he is behaving is because two foolish child gods who are more powerful than him and can erase him with the snap of his fingers will do so if he does not comply. Not to mention, he was stripped of his powers, so, technically, he has no choice but to comply.

" And you're probably thinking, 'Then what's the big deal Nabooru? He's been stopped! That should be enough!' But it's not. He should have been ended then and there. Not given some stupid second chance because two god children and a woman with the maturity of a child desired it. "

She paused then, golden eyes blazing, memories of her past--on Hyrule with its denizens working to starve her people out of existence if they did not eventually kill them outright, of working for Frieza, of the tyrant's petty destruction of her race, of the Saiyans, of so many others--turning pain to fury. " Those who commit genocide deserve nothing but death. Not retribution, not a second chance, not redemption. Zamasu should have been killed. Frieza should have been killed. Myself...Vegeta...we should have been killed. "

[radicalrascals]

@etxrnaleclipse for the NPC/Third Party Sentences meme

“Are you in love with them?” (to Diego, about Steven)

After all the pain they had caused each other and the days spent huddled together licking their wounds in the safety of Steven's flat, Diego was glad they got to go out again. Even if it meant they were only sitting in the back of a small bar enjoying decent live music and the drinks of which it was the thief's turn to buy the next round. He'd just made it to the bar, when a strong hand ceased him by the shoulder and a familiar voice grunted in his ear:

"The fuck's that, Gabe?!"

Ah. Shit.

"The fuck's what, Jim?," Diego shrugged, ignoring the bar in favour of heading straight for the bathrooms. His partner in crime in tow.

"You know that's a fucking pig you're humping like a cur, don't ya?!"

"Buy one animal metaphor get one free," Diego narrowed his eyes, "Yeah, I know. And no, he doesn't know what we do. Are you happy?"

"Are you in love with him?"

"As you said: he's a cop," Diego all but shrugged, implying that question was all together the dumbest thing someone could've put in words.

"Doesn't answer my question. Do you love that fucking pig, Gabe?! Yes or no?," the tone in the other's voice grew aggressive, words sharp like razors cut into Diego's facade, and for a good moment all the thief could do was stare, countering hostile words with a belligerent glare - and eventually a fatal "Fuck you!"

Immediately Diego was grabbed by the fabric of his shirt and manhandled against the tiled wall, hunting knife to his throat.

"You're not going to slit my throat in a place like this." Though sounding brave, taunting even, Diego's heart was pounding fast and painful against his rib cage. He didn't want to die. Perhaps he shouldn't antagonise the man with the knife, perhaps he should just lie as he always did, but something about disavowing his love to Steven felt as though it would kill him faster than a knife's kiss would. He could live a dozen lives, but he only had one heart and that heart spoke true; "Yeah. I love him. I love him so fucking much you couldn't even begin to comprehend it!"

"Switching sides, are you, bastard?!"

"He's not a threat, okay?! He doesn't suspect a thing. Don't panic."

"I'm not panicking. I'll leave tomorrow anyway. And you should, too, if you know what's good for you."

"Oh yeah? Since when do you care? You fucking stabbed a policeman in front of me and almost made us the superstars of a murder investigation, pendejo!"

"And you saved him. Damn, you've gone soft for cops."

"Dunno. One is making me rock hard." Rightfully, that smug comment earned Diego a punch to the stomach, but at least he was being released from being held at knife point.

"He'll be your downfall. Leave while you can."

"Steven's the best thing that ever happened to me. I can't just leave. I can't. I love him."

"Your call. But I'm not going down with this sinking ship. Good luck."

[normaltothemax]

“He does if I wanna keep this alias.” Honestly, Jason doesn’t really know if he wants to be legally brought back to life or not. Would he like to not have to use fake names for everything? Sure. Would he like to not constantly be feeling like he’s going to have to drop everything at the drop of a dime and skip town with nothing more than the clothes on his back? Of course. Would he like to be able to go back to school and get a degree under his own name? It’s only everything he’s dreamed of since he was a little kid. But ignoring the mountains of paperwork and red tape involved, ignoring the absolute media shitstorm his coming back would stir up, Jason doesn’t know if he can handle the whole Bruce aspect of it.

A few months ago, he would have said it was because the man didn’t care. Because Bruce had so quickly replaced Jason. Because he’d chosen the Joker over him. More recently, he might have said it was because Dick had to be the one to kill the Joker when Bruce should’ve done it before his brother had ever even had to consider it.

These days…well. He knows Tim didn’t replace him. He knows the “Joker” he’d been about to kill that night had only been a copycat. He knows Bruce cares, in his own weird, stalkerish way. If he didn’t, Jason would have been kicked out of Gotham or locked away in Blackgate or Arkham ages ago, back when he was still offing people just to make a point. If he didn’t, Jason wouldn’t feel eyes on him as often as he does, wouldn’t be itching to burn his favorite safehouse and start over somewhere new—something he can’t do because this is the one Tim and Dick come to—knowing that Bruce definitely knows where it is, but has decided to leave it alone, for some strange reason (Jason suspects Dick played a part in that).

Bruce cares, and the reality of the situation is that Jason doesn’t know if he’s ready to face it, yet.

It’s hard enough to take from Dick, most days.

So he’ll deflect and make jokes and latch onto the quickest distraction there is, never deal with the complicated feelings he’s having, and then one day he’ll die (again).

“Oh my god.” He barks out a laugh. “What is he, a chipmunk?” Jason leans forward, hands clasped together pleadingly. “Dick. Dickie. If you ever loved me as a brother, you’ll tell me you have a picture of Alvin.”

"He doesn't have to stay that way." Dick has no plans to ever let that go. He won't push the idea on Jason, of course - it's Jason's life, however he wants to live it - but it is possible to legally bring someone back from the dead. It takes a lot of paperwork and red tape, sure, but Wayne money can smooth a lot of roads.

Dick just really wants to be able to see Jason Todd actually graduate college if he wants, not some twerp with a name out of a 90s sitcom.

Fortunately for both of them, his little distraction proves successful. Dick's grin matches Jason's as he nods. "Yep, that's Tim's. You should see him, slicking his hair back like he's in from the Shore, fake earring…it's hilarious, honestly. Alvin."

[im-captain-basch]

I think I've said this before but I still find it utterly hilarious that most people I've seen looked at Swanky Kong and said "baby sibling energy". Like I get it, since the name and general vibes kinda make you think of it, but it's funny to me for more reasons than just that almost everyone seemed to read him for filth on that.

For me it's always been kinda because I'm the youngest for one parent myself, so I get it. For me and the interpretations I've adopted, the potential vanity included with the lifestyle just kinda gives me the vibe that maybe, perhaps because fate deigned DK as the island's king instead of him, Swanky wanted to be the next biggest thing he could, and he was able to achieve it at least in some form. Perhaps deep down inside there is still some self-esteem issues that come with the territory, so his outward appearance and personality is something of a shell or a mask.

Some of it is just his true personality, but perhaps some of it is a face he puts on.

So yeah. Baby sibling energy FTW!

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Astarion Jealousy Part 2

The graphic extension to this but a lil less serious and definitely not sfw.

CW: Jealous spawn astarion who is still a sweetheart, but the drow twins get under his skin. graphic sex scenes, oral, relatively tame honestly. The sex part will be under the cut btw which is m/f. Also vampire man drinks blood. mentionable incorrect language for sex workers

~

It was odd, being home in Baldur’s Gate without the threat of Cazador always looming. Odd, but equally as wonderful. It had been so thoughtful, if not a little idiotic for Cazador to end up being your first stop in the city. The fight itself had been a blur, a barrage of intense emotions and bloody violence. Astarion had come so close to losing himself back there, losing everything that made him better than the man who almost ruined him. But then… you stopped him. You saw something more in him, a chance for a better life. A more meaningful life, away from the shackles of vampiric power obsessions. 

He was officially free. Now he could exist without any fear of his disgusting master’s retribution. He could just… be. Well… not including his darling’s own myriad of enemies that seemed to follow them about everywhere. And there was still the matter of defeating the elder brain, and lord knows if any of you made it through that alive. But at least his personal demons were slain and out of the picture.

Every little step counted after all. Perhaps some of your delusional hopefulness had finally started to rub off on him, but Astarion was actually starting to look forward to his future. Your future, together. All he had to do was get through a few more perilous adventures and then he’d really have you all to himself. 

All that said, Astarion could really go without the frequent visits to the local brothel. Was it the best place in the city for gathering information? Yes. It seemed that every walk of life in Baldur’s Gate found their way into Shar’s Caress and if you were going to find alternative passage to the underworld, this would be the best place to find it. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. For one there were the unwelcome advances to his own person, the concept of grace and personal space apparently left at the door. He was so very close to breaking the hand of the next person who thought it was appropriate to grab his ass. And if they could afford to get kicked out he would have by now. Your verbal, angry tirades in his defense could only scare off so many. 

But as terrible as his own discomfort was, it was nothing in the face of how often you were being fawned over. What was it about you that seemed to drive everyone mad? Yes you were objectively attractive, but this was frankly getting out of hand. First there was the green skinned druid doing something sensual to your mind, then there were the general stares and whispers as you walked by, and now a pair of gorgeous drow twins trying and failing to proposition you. 

It was getting tiresome. There were only so many times a man could take his lover being offered “free” services before he snapped. 

On one hand, he could respect the dedication they had to the craft. He could be considered something of a hired whore himself in his time, the old, “the first one’s free” was a tried and true trick. And he also knew, vaguely, that no one was actually trying to steal you from him. But on the other, he couldn’t help the fact that he wanted to claw their eyes out for looking at you so brazenly.

He hadn’t expected the eyes of the woman to wander over to him, like she was just noticing the possessive arm he had wrapped around your waist, “Is that your partner with you? How would you both feel about having a little fun?”

Absolutely fucking not. Maybe the old Astarion would have smiled and nodded, ready to do whatever was asked of him. But the man from that wretched era had died, or at the very least was dying. And he would be damned if he let you lay with another, never less participate in it. 

Astarion interrupted your overly-polite attempts stuttering of a refusal. He glared at them both, a sneer painted on his face, “We’ll be passing on that. You’d think the first no would have sufficed, but I suppose it’s not fair to expect everyone to have basic language comprehension. Now as illuminating as this conversation has been, we have places to be. Excuse us.”

Then he was pulling you away, happy to ignore the offended huffs of indignation he had left in his wake. 

“We’re supposed to be investigating, remember?” You said with a giggle, not even questioning him as he dragged you to the second floor, “Being rude is not the way we’ll find travel to the hells.”

“I highly doubt they would have been of use,” Astarion said as he pushed you into the first empty room he could find. He felt off, maybe even a little crazed as he turned to you, “Tell me darling, what is it about you that makes you so irresistible, hm?”

He crowded you against the closed door, ducking his head into the crook of your neck to breath you in. You smelled heavenly, you always did. He could trace the barest whiff of your blood from beneath your skin, always calling to him. You were the sweetest thing he ever tasted. Delicious even, for more reasons than one. 

“T-They just wanted my coin,” You gasped when he started to suck bruises into your skin, “That’s all.”

“I think they wanted a bit more than that,” Astarion bit out as he shoved his thigh between your legs, “What will it take for others to realize you’re mine.”

His hands were wandering, resting low to grip your hips. He was using them to move you, forcing you to grind against his thigh. You grasped at his shoulders, trying to bite back a moan as you stared at him with wide eyes, “You want to do it here? Does that door even lock?”

It looked like it didn’t, not that Astarion cared. Maybe walking in on him ravishing you would finally start getting the point across of who you belonged to. Astarion shrugged, "There are less appropriate venues than literal whore houses."

“But-”

“But I can tell you want it,” Astarion interrupted with a smirk, his hands barely working to move your body anymore. But that wasn’t stopping you from rubbing yourself all over him, “Just look at you darling. Desperate little thing. But if you really don’t want to…”

Astarion made a lazy attempt to step back, laughing out loud when your desperately pulled him back, your desire finally winning out over your common sense. But you were glaring at him, obviously annoyed that he was so good at riling you up. He had seen that look before, the one that just screamed that you were scheming something. 

He just hadn’t expected you to drop to your knees in front of him, huffing as you started to undo the fastenings to his pants, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit of a shit?”

“Maybe,” Astarion said with a strained laugh, his breath catching when you pulled his half-hard cock out, “But it seems to keep getting me the things I want.”

You rolled your eyes before licking a wide strip up his cock, like you weren’t directly proving his point. You looked amazing own there, you’re half-hearted glare morphing into a blissful haze. 

Gods, how were you real? Astarion wasn’t quite sure why you were such a fan of getting him down your throat, but he knew that he was a lucky bastard for it. 

“Sweet girl,” Astarion sighed, letting a hand drift down to tangle in your hair, “Sweet girl with a perfect mouth. And you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

You made a small, affirmative noise around his cock, taking him in deeper as you clutched at his thighs. You were so good at this, so well-trained after months of being together. He loved the soft, wet sounds that would escape your lips as you swallowed him down, the pretty way your eyes would water as you encouraged him to fuck your throat, how you would squirm in place on your knees, no doubt ruining your panties with how wet you were getting. 

And no one else would ever know. No one would get to see you like this again, feel you like this. Needy, desperate, and his. Oddly enough, that thought was what sent him over the edge. He came down your throat, groaning as you eagerly swallowed around him. 

You pulled off of him slowly, panting while you smiled up at him. There was the smallest string of spit mixed with his come, connecting from the head of his cock to your lips. You licked it up, still clinging to his thighs as you hazily stared up at him. Sweet enough to make his heart skip a beat, and his dick give a valiant twitch.

He pulled you to your feet, not wasting any time in smashing your lips together. He spun you around, pushing you towards what he prayed was a clean bed. 

He pushed you back onto the sheets, making quick work of tearing your pants down your legs as he grinned down at you, “Your turn.”

He kneeled in front of you; spreading his hands over your splayed thighs to peel off your underwear. The core of you was already glistening, slick enough to make Astarion’s mouth water. He licked his lips as he spread your legs further apart, shameless as he feasted on you with his eyes. 

You were shaking in his hold, biting your bottom lip when you whined, “Stop staring already…”

“But you’re so pretty here my sweet,” Astarion cooed, tracing a single finger over the seam of your cunt, “And you’re dripping. Poor thing, have I kept you waiting too long?”

You nodded excitedly above him, your hips bucking when he let his fingers dip in further between your pussy lips. He lightly traced your clit, softly laughing at the way the simple touch made you whine.

It was his own fault that you were so needy, a fact that brought a smirk to his lips. You always got so wet after you had him down your throat, soaked and gorgeous. 

Astarion dove right in, loudly moaning as he licked into your folds. He dragged his lips upward to suckle on your clit, basking in all the cries and whimpers escaping you.

He licked back down, teasing your hole with his tongue as your legs quivered around his head. He let the sharpness of his fangs scrape against you as he started to fuck you with his tongue, threatening your most intimate places.

He knew you liked that; little minx that you were. The slight risk of pain that was always looming. It made him want to sink his fangs in you for real, a hunger that he'd sate after he had you gushing into his mouth.

You were already close, he could tell from the way your cunt was tightening around his tongue; too worked up from the thrill of being in public and the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Astarion trailed talented fingers up to rub against your clit, his tongue still curling inside of you as you cried out. Finally falling over the edge. But that wasn't stopping him from continuing to play with you.

You had to tug on Astarion’s hair for him to finally pull away, too over sensitive to handle his talented tongue. You were still trembling by the time he leaned back, licking his lips. He rested his head on your thigh, obviously pleased with himself as he grinned up at you. He could feel your heart racing against his cheek, the sound of your blood pumping singing through your veins. It had his mouth watering for a completely different reason. 

He let his fangs drag against the delicate skin of your inner thigh, looking up at you through his lashes, "Can I?"

A superfluous question. Not when he already knew the answer before it escaped your lips.

“Y-yeah," You mumbled, lovingly gazing down at him. He would never tire of seeing that look on your face, "But be gentle? Please?” 

"Of course my love," Astarion murmured, before promptly sinking his fangs into your flesh. He had to hold you down from the way you were still trembling, your quivering only getting worse at the pleasure mixed with pain. He didn’t let himself go rabid, just enough to get a taste. He was pulling back too soon, smiling to himself at the little whine you let out. He gently licked over the wound before standing, not yet swallowing the last drops on his tongue.

Instead he leaned forward to kiss you, more than happy to share the sweet taste of your blood as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

“Thank you my dear,” Astarion sighed as he pulled away, “That was exactly what I needed. Now I think that’s enough investigating for one day.” 

You sighed, taking the time to card your fingers through his hair, “Agreed. Though you might have to carry me out of here now.”

Wasn’t that a wonderful idea?

Astarion hummed as he pulled your clothing back on, “I think I like the sound of that," He didn't give you time to respond, too busy sweeping you up in his arms with a grin, "I'll be taking you up on that."

You squeaked when he hefted you up, bridal style, “I wasn’t being serious!”

But it was too late, Astarion was already kicking the door open. He shrugged at you, completely shameless as he winked at a few onlookers, "Then you shouldn't have suggested it."

You groaned, hiding your face in his shirt as he happily took you outside, “I’m going to get you back for this. I hope you know that.”

Astarion laughed as he kissed the top of your head, “I’m sure you will.”

It was a childish stunt, borderline on par with a jealous tantrum, but gods, did it feel good. Good enough to sate Astarion's obsessive tendencies for an impressive amount of time. Under normal circumstances. 

But what about your lives were normal?

[waitineedaname]

i was thinking my little thoughts while falling asleep last night, and a concept occurred to me: what if binghe learned about the system not from shen qingqiu, but from shang qinghua

look, he likes shang qinghua alright. he's pretty disinterested in p much anyone who isn't shen qingqiu, but on the list of People Luo Binghe Tolerates, shang qinghua is relatively high. he gave him advice on wooing sqq, after all, and sqq likes his company, so binghe tolerates his shang-shishu

but the thing is, shang qinghua is a spy. has been for decades. binghe knows this. really, everyone knows this at this point, which isn't a great look for a spy, but still. and since shang qinghua is a spy for mobei-jun, who is a subordinate for luo binghe, then technically shang qinghua is also working for him, but you don't get to the position of demon emperor without a healthy amount of suspicion for everyone in your court

so he decides to test shang qinghua a little bit. nothing major, just a little poking around in his dreams. he starts out with a subtle touch, just sifting through his memories. most of it is what he expected. he sees his time on an ding as a disciple and then later as peak lord, he sees him working for mobei-jun. he sees mobei-jun in some compromising situations, which he files away for later, and then sees him in an entirely different flavor of compromising situations, and binghe immediately decides to act like he never saw that

then he decides to take a more direct approach and starts nudging the dreams in other directions, to see how he might react to certain scenarios, test his loyalty. he expects shang qinghua to act cowardly, or bluff his way through a situaton, maybe even draw his sword if pushed far enough

what he doesn't expect is for shang qinghua to frown at the changes luo binghe made and go "I didn't write it like this"

what

binghe is so bewildered by that response that he loses his grip on the dream for a second, and before he knows it, shang qinghua has spun the dream scenario back into the way the scene originally played out. he steps back and looks satisfied. "there we go," he says. "that's how it went. you know, if I'd known I'd be dealing with this scene myself, I would've written it differently"

what the hell does that mean?

fascinated, luo binghe continues to test him. most of the time, when he toys with someone's dream, they're completely unaware of the changes. shang qinghua, despite not seeming aware that he's lucid dreaming, seems very aware of how each scene should go. except for, strangely, many of the scenes that binghe himself was in. binghe pulls up one from his disciple days, one of the times he remembered shang qinghua coming to qing jing on some errand. he hadn't even changed anything yet, had just let the dream version of his younger self launch himself at shizun in a tacklehug, but shang qinghua tsks and takes the reins from him before he can make any edits. "sorry bing-ge, but that was just way too out of character," shang qinghua says. the dream copy of luo binghe's younger self is sent further away, watching the peak lords with a sullen gaze. he's skinnier than binghe remembers being at this age, and one of his eyes is swollen with a purple bruise. that doesn't make any sense, luo binghe thinks. he hadn't been beaten on qing jing peak for years at this point.

the shen qingqiu beside shang qinghua in the dream stands with his back straight as a ruler, and when his gaze lands on luo binghe, he sneers behind his fan. shang qinghua sighs. "cucumber-bro really wasn't as good of an actor as he thought he was. he's way too soft to ever seem like the original goods."

alarmed, luo binghe dispels the dream and steps out of it entirely. sure, he knows shen qingqiu's personality changed almost overnight when he had that qi deviation. everyone knew that. he avoided questioning it much, unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth when it meant having a shizun that cared for him

but shang qinghua. shang qinghua seems to know something more about shen qingqiu's personality change. something he's not sharing. luo binghe didn't like the idea that one of his subordinates could be hiding something as vital as this from him

well, this had been a test of his spy's loyalties, hadn't it? perhaps he should make a visit to an ding. he had some questions.

[dykekarkat]

worst feeling in the fucking world when the fandom falls victim to the delusions/lies that the character's feed themselves and than those lies are taken to be the True Essence of the characters

like i just finished rereading assassination classroom (for maybe the fifth time?) and focusing on karma + nagisa cus theyre my faves and like theyre fucking liars!!! ik its basically a dead fandom now so most of the content ive been looking at is years old at this point but like they would be sooooo happy to know accurate grasps of their characters are near nonexistent.

like karma WANTS you to think he's a cool genius lone wolf who only cares about his own abilities!! meanwhile basically every single action he takes in the second half of the manga proves each of those traits to be false outright!!!

like hes (sort of) a team player! he knows everyones strengths! hes thinking about other ppls feelings when it comes to the assassination! he's been putting in insane amounts of effort since he failed that one final!

nagisa WANTS you to believe that he's a fully selfless, weak, support player while being pretty much the exact opposite!! but he doesnt work in a team he works best alone! literally w express permission to work fully solo during the war arc! he wasnt thinking of how everyone else felt during his proposal to save korosensei! he wanted to be the one to kill korosensei (somewhat selfishly)!!

the narrative foils are narratively foiling and no one wants to give it the proper respect it deserves smh.

[egophiliac]

how are u on gavv so far? because i need to scream about how insane it has been (and that zakuzakuchips and fuwamallow have won special places in my heart)

can't believe his mom got flavor-blasted to death. 😔 RIP.

[itsmespicaa]

The way I literally lost my mind when I saw them in the movie omg...after 40 years, my beloved twins are finally back together 😭🫶💖

(I spent like a good chunk of rewatches just trying to spot every single appearances of them HAHAHA- OTL i hope we DO get a sequel and when we do, hopefully the twins will be there too :"D)

[ruewenthusiast]

the ruewen family is crazy because its really just like. what if we opened our home for the first time in over a decade just for you? i dont think you see me when you look at me. look at me. i cant replace what you lost. we cant replace what you lost either. what if we arent strong enough for this? for you? we let you die not knowing how much we love you. what if i came back and you got a second chance anyways. what if maybe we didnt deserve that chance but we'll make it up to you with everything we have. we're trying. what if you are and that's all i wanted. what if this house is filled with ghosts and maybe im one of them. you're so much more than a ghost. you showed us how to live again. and what if i taught you how to let go? what if i was enough to get you to dust off that shelf, move those boxes. what if there are no replacements for what we've lost but we go on and we'll do it for you. and we'll build something new, just the three of us. what if this is home? what if i belong here. you do and we'll make sure you never doubt that again. what if i called you mom and dad? you're our daughter just as much she was. not because you look like her, but because you're you. what if i stand between you in the mirror and you're both looking at me and i know you don't see a ghost anymore. i am seen as so many things by the world, but here i can just be me. we wish you didnt have to grow up so fast but we're so proud of you. please slow down and let yourself rest. what if we keep our door open for you every night. what if i crawl into bed with you when im too scared to close my eyes. what if there is still love after loss

[into-fiction]

gelphie - time travel (w/ a twist)

for @c-rose2081

///

The first thing Glinda tries to do is run. She stumbles hard, tripping over too-small feet and too-short legs, crying out in a high-pitched voice when she’s sent careening to the ground. 

“Galinda!” a voice calls, worried and sharp, as gentle hands lift her under her armpits. The world blurs and spins, her chest heaving with panic and disorientation as she realizes, quite suddenly, that something has gone very very wrong. 

Glinda bursts into tears. 

They’re ugly and loud and uncontrollable. She’s horrified by her own emotions, overwhelmed by her inability to stop the torrent. Someone pulls her into their arms, a comforting hold gripping her and rubbing her back as she buries her nose in a familiar scent. 

Momsie. It’s been ages since Glinda was little enough to be held like this. Something has gone very very very wrong. 

“I-I-I need--” But Glinda can’t get her mouth to work, can’t get the words to come. She can’t explain the swirling mess of memories that linger like a bad dream at the forefront of her thoughts. 

Elphie, she thinks, over and over and over. I need Elphie. 

It takes her a while to settle down, long enough that her mother’s grip grows a little too tight and her voice pinches with impatience.

The second thing Glinda tries to do is look in a mirror. 

A ghost stares back at her. A face she hasn’t seen in decades. Glinda’s wide brown eyes rove over her diminutive form, her tongue licking into the gap left by her missing teeth as she tries to stop the panic from taking over again. 

This was not the plan. 

Being back in the body of a child is a new form of torture, one that even Morrible wouldn’t have been evil enough to think up. Glinda’s brain fights hard to process her grown-up thoughts, but her mind is scattered and full of holes, too young to understand the weight of her own feelings. Her chest clenches in anxiety, one of the few things she does remember from this age. 

On that first day, she stumbles to her desk and fills every inch of scrap paper she can find with the childish scribbles of anything she thinks may be important. More than half of it just ends up being green. 

No amount of begging will convince her parents to send her to Munchkinland. They have no idea why she wants to do something so outlandish, and Glinda is entirely unable to explain it to them.

She wakes each night shaking from nightmares her baby brain wants only to repress, her memories smothered in a layer of smoky haze that makes it impossible to remember what is real. 

“Elphie,” Glinda whispers to herself. It’s the one thing she knows she’ll never forget. Green skin and dark hair and a gentle, lovely voice. The loathing and loving and grieving and pain. How could she ever forget something like that?

So the third thing Glinda tries is to run away. 

If her parents won’t take her to Munchkinland, then she’ll find a way there herself. She’ll get to Elphie before anyone else. Before Morrible, before the Wizard, before Fiyero. She’ll make Elphie her friend, and she’ll cross her fingers and wish on stars and hope that she can change things. 

She makes it as far as the end of her driveway. Her nanny comes hustling out after her, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her back to the house.

“What were you thinking?” she gets asked, and Glinda can’t tell them- she can’t, she can’t, she can’t. Her nanny tells Popsicle, who tells Momsie, who takes Glinda into the study that night to remind her of the rules. 

But Glinda doesn’t let it dissuade her. 

She tries again and again, over and over and over, a determination within her that she barely knows the origin of. She sneaks off from school, she escapes from her nanny, she climbs down her window at night. She makes it as far as the train one time, but they won’t let her board without a ticket, and she’s too young to buy one herself. 

At some point, she gives in to the temptation to just walk, setting off down the dirty, dusty road in nothing but her brunch dress and baby heels. She’s too hot and too tired and too sweaty by the time she makes it very far, though, a childish whine building in her throat as she wonders under her breath if it’s really that important. 

After all- Elphie can wait, right? Munchkinland is just so far, and Glinda is so tired, and she’s been wracking her brain all morning, but for the life of her, she can’t remember what’s so important about Elphie that she needs to see her right now. 

She misses her, of course. But Glinda misses lots of things, like her toys and her bed. 

“Galinda, look at your dress!” her momsie exclaims, and after a few hours of lecture and scolding and a stinging behind, Galinda scrubs tears from her eyes and figures maybe running away isn’t really worth all this trouble. She’ll try again, of course, she needs to…but maybe she’ll wait a while. 

A few days. A few weeks. A few months. 

Galinda gets caught up in school and lessons and parties. She gets dragged along to etiquette classes that bat her hands away from the history books she reaches for. She gets totted along to banquets and balls where the well-dressed Gillikenese nobles don’t want to hear anything about Munchkinland. She gets reprimanded anytime her fingers start to itch for paint or pen or charcoal, and she starts to wonder what’s so special about the color green, anyway?

It’s not a very flattering color, after all. Galinda knows it’s the color of the Emerald City, but she’s always been more partial to pink, herself. And Galinda doesn’t think pink goes very nicely with green.

Time slides past, her memories blurring and warping until it takes all her effort to even remember how old she is. Sometimes the answer on the tip of her tongue can’t possibly be right, and Galinda sits in her own confusion for a moment because it feels oddly like she’s forgetting something. 

Like she’s missing something. 

She keeps having these thoughts, these flashes, these dreams. Bits and pieces of things that can’t be real. Flying monkeys? Floating bubbles? She doesn’t understand, and the more confused she gets, the more she wants it all to just go away. 

Galinda does her best to fit in, to keep up, to make her parents proud. She learns to smile brighter and talk more and make friends. She learns how to dress and how to put on makeup and how to do her hair. She excels at everything she’s asked to do, praised endlessly for her maturity, her grace, her intelligence. 

Her teachers call her an ‘old soul’ and she beams at them and tries not to listen to the tiny voice in the back of her head telling her this is all wrong. 

Wrong, wrong, something is wrong. 

Galinda doesn’t know what it could be. Her life is perfect…isn't it?

Late at night, when her parents aren’t watching and the nightmares creep too close for comfort, Galinda sits at her desk and sketches aimless doodles into endless amounts of paper. The gentle curve of a pair of glasses, the pristine edge of a rose. She doesn’t know what they mean, but she knows that they are important. 

There’s a name buried deep in her thoughts, but Galinda can’t quite string the right letters together to give it shape.

“Elphaba?” her nanny says one day. “Galinda, do you have a friend named Elphaba? There’s a letter here for you.”

She holds a small, dirty letter out to Galinda, the edges rough like it’s been through a lot just to arrive at Galinda’s door. She takes it in her hands and tears it open, frowning hard at the messy writing she finds inside. 

“Do you know her?” her nanny asks. 

Galinda swallows hard, her mind tumbling between the faces of her school friends and the strange visions she sees late at night. She shakes her head, but it feels like the wrong answer. 

“I don’t know,” she finally says. “I can’t remember.”

[radicalrascals]

Nick's smiling brightly, wrestling with his tobacco pouch a little while trying to roll himself a smoke on the way out. "You weren't here, Tishoca," he reminds her with a chuckle, lighting his rollie the secend they're finally outside, "I would've told you. You know, asking for care instructions and all that. We really only met because you two ran away to a whole different country."

He leans against the facade and lets the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling slowly, almost resembling a sigh. "Yup, met the kids. Briefly, that is. But I think Aanya really fell in love with Spellbound." Which still makes him feel strangely proud. "Meeting the parents always makes me nervous though. Lucky you you're probably spared meeting Renato. Not that... He doesn't speak English. Makes things complicated."

Dating only three people though? Nick giggled like a school girl, though as he turns around to catch a glimpse of the cryptid, he immediately chokes on his laughter finding Hari about to leave and his brother in an all too familiar pose; leaning back in his chair, head slightly cocked, eyes narrowed and eerily calm. "Pelo amor de Deus...!"

"That tells me everything I need to know," Rafael retorts, something inherently provocative about his calmness, a misplaced trait usually reserved for those who deserve it. People who no doubt had even worse threats for him. He's heard it all. But points for creativity and the courage to risk a serious criminal charge without an army of lawyers. He might've respected that, if Hari hadn't just failed the last test he's had for him.

"How you're so quick on defending the honour of a woman I couldn't care less about, but feel no indignation towards the implication of breaking my brother's heart. Now I know where your priorities lie."

"Rafa! Que porra é isso?! O que você disse?"

"Você deve procurar alguém que a valorize e a trate com respeito. Não ele."

"Wow... we're gone for five seconds and you both manage to fuck this up this badly. Yes, both of you!" He took a deep drag, but it did nothing to calm his nerves. "You're our older brothers? Really? Because right now you act like bratty children who don't want to share their sand moulds. We don't need your approval. We're grown ups. The only reason we tell you is because you're an important part of our life and we want to share this with you. Don't ruin it!"

"Nico..."

"I'm not done yet. You're gonna aplogise." Rafael huffs and gives Nick an aww, come on, man! look. But Nick's the immovable object to his brother's unstoppable force. "I'm waiting. Or do you want to ruin Christmas for both Tisha and myself."

"I'm sorry I've ruined your day, Nico."

"Not to me. Nice try though."

Rafael clenches his jaw. Every fibre in his being wants to protest, but he can also see the hurt behind Nick's eyes and he knows how close he is to crying. He doesn't even want to imagine how pissed off Tisha is at him right now.

"Desculpa. I'm sorry I dragged your ex-wife into this." Nick made a gesture to keep going, and very begrudgingly Rafael did: "That wasn't fair. I'm still not convinced you appreciate my brother as much as he deserves. But Nico's right. That's none of my business. Never has been. I shouldn't tell you how to love. If you're happy together that's... it's great actually. Keep making my brother happy and never stop. Then we won't have a problem. We don't need to be friends, but I would be okay with a truce."

Tisha barely pauses to light her cigarette before squeezing Nick’s arm, giddy laughter spilling out of her. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this! I mean, I can, because I didn’t tell you, but holy shit! You and Hari?” She takes a drag, but the smoke spills back out with her next laughing fit. “Have you met the kids yet? Oh my God, have you met my parents? Is Christmas going to be the first time? They’re going to love you, don’t even worry about it - you’re like, my mom’s dream.” Well, the werewolf thing isn’t part of the dream, but they don’t need to know that, and she doesn’t need to bring it up, not when everything is starting to go okay. “Sorry, I’m kind of excited. Hari would be super mad at me for saying this, but he’s dated like, three people his entire life, and… I think you’ll be good for him.”

Hari huffs out a soft laugh, turning the pictures over in his hand. “These your kids? Strong genes.” He passes the picture back, and a shadow crosses his face for just a moment. “You know, Rafael… most people would probably say that the friendship Victoria and I have maintained after our divorce is a good thing. I don’t think you understand what it says about you that you don’t.” His voice is just a touch too calm, just a bit too low, and he pours himself another shot.

“It makes you sound like a man who doesn’t see value in someone after your romantic relationship with them ends. I understand being protective. I really do. Ask Tisha about it sometime. Ask her what it was like when she was little. I understand wanting the best for your brother, and being really cautious about who comes into his life. But you have no right to imply what you just implied. And if you ever speak about the mother of my children again in a way that even slightly suggests she would stoop to infidelity, I will not need to lean on words like unspeakable. I can speak it. I won twenty seven of my career fights via knockout. I will punch you in the mouth so fucking hard they’ll still be finding teeth on the day you’re embalmed.” Hari throws back his shot and then stands, setting the glass down firmly. “I hope you grow up before then. Enjoy your night.”

[cosmicwhoreo]

due to the requests of a very SPECIFIC and might I add, MANIPULATIVE Grim Reaper I loathe to call a friend that I will not name- I was asked to doodle my own version of Herobrine for their B day. And I couldn't stop after that-

Tl;Dr- damn you @grimmixxart