#again apologies if this is too dark or insensitive

[deepfriedseagullfeet]

the actor having a cocaine addiction since 1922 and literally doing it off of silver platters vs jack making henrik shoot him up with morphine stolen from the hospital every single night. and somehow both these guys are still alive despite this

[autistichalsin]

What are some of Halsin's flaws, in your opinion?

Halsin's flaws, personality and others, major and minor (note that some of these are a bit circumstantial):

-He can't control his baser/animal instincts, which comes out in his wildshape issues. This corresponds with bloodlust in his animal form.

-He isn't suited for Druidic leadership, as shown at the Grove, which led to disastrous consequences.

-By his own admission, he focuses too hard on the tasks important to him and lets other ones fall by the wayside.

-Due to the above, he struggles tremendously with balancing conflicting obligations; he didn't bother much with the Grove when he was trying to solve the Shadow Curse, abandoned the Grove when the player showed up (though of course that was also due to his trauma and hatred of the Archdruid role), and if romanced to Karlach, is one of the only ones who refuses to go to Avernus with her, feeling that he and he alone can start the commune for the children and their needs are greater than hers.

-He has a self-sacrificial view about what being "good" is, and feels that he has to be unhappy if he's helping; he let himself suffer as Archdruid for 100 years rather than find someone else to take the role, and in the ending, he tries to break up with a romanced player to start his commune both because of his possible abandonment issues and because he doesn't see room for his own happiness when he's trying to help people.

-As I just mentioned, he does have abandonment issues to a degree; if the player dumps him in the ending, he says he knows nothing lasts forever. If the player suggests the party go their separate ways immediately after the battle, he says it was always destined to be so, but it stings nonetheless. He is shocked when the player comes to rescue him from Orin if taken.

-While he is an extremely kind and forgiving person, he has limits, and once those have been crossed, he gets very vengeful (I.E. everyone involved in his captivity with the goblins, or saying he'd like to "do the same" to whoever killed and stuffed a young bear for decoration in one shop in Baldur's Gate).

-He misreads social cues fairly often.

-He seems better able to assert his boundaries to strangers than to his friends and loved ones, I.E., not having much of a negative reaction to a Lolthsworn Drow threatening to sell him back into slavery.

-Because nature is his way of understanding the world, he struggles to understand things through any other lens. He has little interest in other things that can't be considered part of either nature or his Druidic duties.

-He takes things very literally at times, I.E. the phrase "you can say that again."

-He doesn't bother trying to hide when he doesn't like someone (I.E. if the player has incredibly low approval with him).

-He can sometimes be insensitive on accident, such as saying "imagine the horrors" when they're in a tadpoling facility, to Wyll in particular, though he does apologize right away when called on it.

-He is slow to true anger, but sometimes quick to annoyance, at least where strangers are concerned. (This is more so the case if they question him).

-He infamously doesn't trust Drow, and while this is justified in the case of Lolth-sworn Drow, he is initially mistrustful of the player if they are a Seldarine Drow too (though later he shows far more trust of Seldarine than Lolth Drow).

-His objections to some of the evil things encountered in the game are their unnaturalness more than their evilness, fitting with the Druidic belief that evil is as much a part of the world as good. He is more upset at how unnatural the tadpoles are than anything, at least at first, and if the Dark Urge shows off the Slayer form in front of him, he says it's "most unnatural. Most foul," and says that it only serves death/murder. (It's how unnatural and unbalanced it is that it bothers him more than the form being a giant monster, basically.)

-He has a huge case of hero worship to the player, which is why he falls in love with them almost immediately after they break the Shadow Curse, and has feelings for them even sooner than that.

-He despises turnips.

[spinchip]

Bloat

(Warnings: disrespectful discussion of self harm/suicide by a side character. murder. Lots of death.)

They're here about a series of murders. Nya doesn't know why they dragged the ninja out to this nothing town with its stone castle and still water lake, with its missing persons and their empty spaces. The ninja aren't detectives, even if Zane likes to pretend. With twelve people missing, Zane keeps his fedora at home and approaches this delicately. Nya wishes he'd put on that stupid hat.

She's also not sure why she keeps slipping up and saying murder when it's really just missing persons, officially. Eight men, four women, varying ages. All different kinds of backgrounds vanished without a trace.

The ocean mourned each dead fish, every shrimp swallowed alive, but it didn't interfere. Nya struggles to find the point to this. Everyone is somber and cold in the rainy afternoon fog. Jay tries and fails to speak to her several times, slinking away with his tail between his legs each time. She could have been nicer, less blunt, when she ended things. The river does not apologize to the stone it shaves to dust. Her thoughts still feel disjointed and off. The lake's surface is so serene it's mirrored, reflecting gray clouds and dark nights.

The first two victims were teenage boys who snuck out to buy cigarettes. They were supposed to meet a mutual friend but failed to show up. The living boy is distraught, a mess, consumed by guilt and grief and fear for his friends. Kai takes Nya by the upper arm and hauls her away from the group when she says something uncouth, insensitive, cruel. The ocean had no use for manners.

She dreams of drowning in a bathtub, but she doesn't struggle. She simply sinks under cold water, closes her eyes, and-

She wakes up vomiting brackish water over the edge of her bed and doesn't tell anyone.

The seventh victim is hardly considered a victim at all. She'd tried to kill herself three weeks before she went missing, and the rude cop with the badly trimmed beard scoffs at her inclusion in the list. Probably snuck off to the woods, he sneers, finished slitting up her wrists. Nothing to do with these other cases, just lumped in there to do it.

But her mother said she'd changed her mind. What is the significance in wanting to live when death will come for you regardless? She thinks about that girl the most, and hopes she found peace.

Nya feels more aligned with the blood under her skin than the rest of her body. Flow. Liquid. It rushes through her veins like whitewater rapids.

She dreams of inky blackness, encased by water. She wakes up vomiting water again, but Zane is sitting by her bedside with a bucket and paper towel. His eyes are cold despite how he tries to hide it. They're always cold, now.

Bad dream? He asks, reserved. It's a trap but she doesn't know how.

Go back to bed She says instead, rolling over and ignoring him for the rest of the night. He doesn't leave. She doesn't fall back asleep.

Cole gets her to eat even when bread and eggs taste like salt water and seaweed. She hates the taste of the water from the tap. The lake is covered by a thin layer of mist and it smells old and stagnant. Settled water, too much of it.

Charles, the older man who tends to the castle grounds, tells her it's a man-made lake. Put together by the previous lord and lady of the land, dug out by workers paid pennies. He worked on it when he was just a boy. He doesn't say much, and he doesn't do much around the castle. Old and feeble, his mind has gone spoiled. He looks at Nya like she's inhuman.

The last victim was the lord's son, Albert. He's the only one whose name they learn immediately, the police placing his file on top of all of the others and ranking him at priority number one. It's time to do something now that the lord's son is missing.

He'll have my head, Lord Vonnet will, if I don't return his son safely The lord's royal guard dabs his sweaty forehead with a damp towel.

You poor bastard, Nya says before she can think, get your affairs in order.

Lloyd is the one to drag her out of the room looking mortified. Zane follows him out and they exchange a handful of quiet words that Nya can't hear behind the raging waves crashing in her ears. Zane takes her out to the lake.

They are all dead he says simply.

Since before we even set foot in town she confirms.

They are in the lake.

She closes her eyes and sees still, black water. At the very bottom.

The wind blows a sour smell off the surface of the lake. It might have been beautiful, once. When it was fresh and the water was clear and blue. Before it was filled with rot.

I do not know who did it he confesses I keep having bad dreams.

I dream I'm drowning she offers.

I dream I am throwing bodies in the lake he gives back.

She stares at the horizon I feel nothing. Isn't that awful.

He shrugs the ocean does not care to investigate every whale fall.

Interesting choice of words. Whale fall. There are no fish in this lake, it's all man-made she looks at him with dull eyes you think something is eating

When I toss them in the lake i Am certain they will never be found

You're not bothered by this either

He shrugs again, an entirely human act for a man whose eyes are so detached, an Emperor does not care to investigate the death of every subject

She stands and ties her hair into a bun, I'll draw them up, can you make them float?

She doesn't bother waiting for an answer, sinking her awareness down down down to the bottom of the lake. She focuses on the vaguely human shaped masses in the water, cupping them and hauling them to the surface where she lets them go and returns to the bottom. She's so powerful now she doesn't need to step foot into the water to raise up the bodies. She begins to find cow and deer carcasses alongside men and women. She finds bones. She finds old jewelry and clothes.

Finally, she finds the animal.

It was given the name stronsay by the whales and sea lions up north, where these things are typically found. Giant sea serpents, rare in the ocean- non-existent in freshwater lakes. Especially never found in man-made ones like this, too barren to support life. It was juvenile, small, and had not yet shed its baby skin. It was not thriving in this fresh water, but it would have lived until it was too big to move in this thing.

Zanes frozen the bodies of the dead and dragged them ashore.

The lord's son is one of the dead, his body in a poor state. When the rest of the ninja and the police come, after they thaw out his body, they find a leather-bound journal where he talks about the pet he hatched from an egg he found in the cold waters on his last holiday. He wrote extensively about how hungry it was, and exactly how he fed it.

He couldn’t keep up with its appetite, Nya says, staring down at his wet, bloated body.

Icarus Zane mutters at her side.

What will become of the beast? The mustaches policeman asks.

We shall slaughter it! The Lady of the land wails, And stick its head on a pike!

It will be safely and humanely relocated Nya corrects her cooly, Do not allow anyone near the lake before it is moved. Unless you don't like them.

Nya Kai warns.

Later, while Lloyd oversees the beasts removal and the others are likewise occupied, Zane asks do you think we are like them?

Dead?

Changed forever. Call it rot, putrefaction, trauma- altered and, ultimately, lost He murmurs.

I would prefer to just be dead she says without thinking, a thrum of shock at the admission the first tangible emotion she's had in days. She remembers the seventh victim. She'd changed her mind.

Zane grins and it's all teeth, a baring of bone.

Where does that leave us, if we are changed? She looks away, staring out at the lake.

Alone He says simply.

We have each other, don’t we? You understand me. I understand you.

We do He looks at her and she looks at him.

The kiss tastes like saltwater and blood. She kisses him again.

[miss-musings]

"You Should Be More Careful With Your Shooting Hand": Was There a Better Way to Address Crosshair's Hand Tremors?

In the weeks since The Bad Batch series finale, I've seen a lot of discussion about how the show handled Crosshair's PTSD, hand tremors and losing his hand to CX-2. I've seen some positive and some negative, and a lot of mixed thoughts.

So, I wanted to share my thoughts on it purely from a writing perspective. There are a lot of aspects of TBB Season 3 that could've been executed better -- *cough* CX-2 *cough* -- but I just want to focus on these ideas on paper.

Before we start: I want to state for the record that I do not have PTSD, nor am I any kind of authority on mental health conditions. I am commenting on this only from a writing perspective. If I happen to come across as insensitive, I apologize because that's not my intention.

So, let's set up the general scenario and look at a few options for tackling it, analyzing the pros and cons of each option.

An Overview of Crosshair's Hand Tremors in S3

From his very first appearance in Season 3, we see that Crosshair has a tremor in his right hand. It is implied to be a symptom of PTSD — or something akin to it in the Star Wars universe — related to being imprisoned and tortured on Tantiss.

His hand tremors impact his sharpshooting abilities during the Tantiss escape in 3.03, during the Lau shootout in 3.04 and during the confrontation with the Ice Wyrm in 3.05. However, he and his allies end up "winning the day" in all three episodes.

(His hand tremors don't seem to be a factor during the Bad Batch's showdown with Asajj Ventress in 3.09. Even if Crosshair had been at 100% against her, I doubt he would've done anything.)

It isn't until 3.07 that Crosshair's hand tremors have lasting negative consequences. As a result of not killing CX-2 during their first shootout in the spire, his group is endangered, Nemec dies and Crosshair nearly dies too.

However, the group manages to escape Teth, and I'd argue that everything in 3.11 probably would've played out the same regardless because Hemlock would’ve sent a different CX operative to Pabu instead. (Although I realize the characters don't know that.)

Crosshair's hand tremors persist through the rest of the series, seemingly getting worse as CF99 prepare to infiltrate Tantiss, until CX-2 cuts it off during the hangar fight in 3.15.

Now, let's analyze a few options for how this could've played out. Again, we're just looking at each one on paper, not in execution.

Option A: The Version We Got

Let's call the canon version Option A.

In this version, Crosshair has tremors in his right hand throughout Season 3, and the only real negative consequence is that CX-2 is alive post-3.07.

In 3.11, Crosshair misses the shot to track Omega to Tantiss. However, it's not because of his hand tremors. It's because of the timing. He was about to shoot when stormtroopers found him on the Sea Wall, and by the time he took the shot — which, why was he running anyway? — it was too late. The ship pulled away at the last second and the tracker fell in the water.

Skipping ahead to 3.15, Crosshair and his brothers are infiltrating Tantiss to rescue Omega and the other prisoners.

There's a mounting sense of dread in the hangar fight: the CX operatives show up; Hunter is knocked unconscious; and Wrecker is attacked. As the dark climax/conclusion for the hangar fight and as the payoff to their one-sided rivalry, CX-2 decides to cut off Crosshair's shooting hand.

The entire hangar fight, but especially this moment of CX-2 attacking Crosshair and preparing to cut off his hand, is probably the darkest moment in the entire finale. This is underscored by the next two scenes: In a moment of morbid humor/dramatic irony, Omega notes that the blaster fire is over and leads the other kids to the hangar; and then Echo sees his defeated brothers being carted away to Hemlock's lab.

Crosshair's amputation then adds tension to the final confrontation with Hemlock, as now he's down a hand in general and his dominant hand at that.

So, let's look at the pros and cons of Option A (the version we got):

PROS: Payoff to the one-sided rivalry with CX-2; a dark conclusion to the hangar fight; additional tension in the final confrontation with Hemlock; playing into Star Wars tropes and drawing parallels between Crosshair and other characters who've lost hands/limbs, namely Anakin Skywalker

(EDIT: This ScreenRant article also argues that Crosshair losing his hand severs his connection to Tantiss and "marks a turning point toward redemption and a brighter future." So, make of that what you will.)

CONS: Admittedly this is being reductive, but Option A could feel like the amputation essentially "solves" Crosshair's hand tremors and/or PTSD, which is definitely not how it works. It could also be a very careless way to tackle such a heavy subject matter, especially for those who suffer from PTSD and see themselves in Crosshair. (As I'll talk about more in a second, this is something YouTuber SheevTalks discussed in his TBB Season 3 review.)

Option B: Crosshair Keeps His Hand in the Finale

This is the version that I saw YouTuber SheevTalks and some other folks on social media champion. (Note: feel free to watch his TBB Season 3 review, but just know that I DO NOT agree with all of his takes about the season or the show in general.)

Essentially, everything with Crosshair's hand tremors plays out the same way up until 3.11. In this version, he misses the shot to track Omega's ship because of the hand tremors, not because of the timing.

This would add greater tension in the episodes leading up to the finale, because failing to track CX-2's ship would be an immediate and direct consequence of his hand tremors. With the exception of CX-2 surviving 3.07, we haven't had anything like this in Season 3.

It would also directly contribute to Crosshair feeling that he failed Omega (and his brothers) because of his hand tremors and add to his insecurity that he's not the capable sharpshooter he used to be anymore.

This version would have him keep his hand through the finale. That way, in the final confrontation with Hemlock, he has to battle against his hand tremors and self-doubt to save Omega. But, unlike in 3.11, this time he would be doing it with his family's physical and emotional support.

As SheevTalks argues, there are a lot of positives to this version:

PROS: a greater narrative through line and payoff for Crosshair's PTSD/hand tremors throughout Season 3; a greater emphasis on the importance of family, love and community in addressing mental health needs; Crosshair gets to keep his hand!

However, under Option B, there would also be some drawbacks and several things that would need to be addressed:

CONS: Without CX-2 cutting off Crosshair's hand in the hangar fight, we'd need some equally high-stakes conclusion AND have some kind of payoff for CX-2's rivalry with Crosshair.

Crosshair needs to sustain some kind of injury in the fight. It'd need to be 1) survivable 2) as severe and dark as losing his dominant hand and 3) add to the tension during the final confrontation with Hemlock.

CX-2 couldn't just knock Crosshair out, because then Crosshair would essentially be in the same physical state post-hangar fight as he would be pre-hangar fight. Yes, there would be additional tension in the confrontation with Hemlock because he'd have to overcome his hand tremors, but we still need some other way to conclude the hangar fight.

I've wracked my brain trying to think of ideas, and I can't come up with anything that would be as dark but survivable as getting his hand cut off — as terrible as that sounds.

I mean Wrecker gets shot in the leg later in the finale and Echo gets stabbed in the back/shoulder, and neither wound is ever addressed again. So, we'd need something much worse than either of those, but still survivable.

Plus, as I've discussed before, CX-2 is a petty bitch who definitely had a grudge against Crosshair. Cutting off his shooting hand kind of makes sense in a dark and twisted way.

One more con I'll mention is that, being reductive again, people could argue that Crosshair overcoming his PTSD/hand tremors through "the power of love" or "the power of friendship" might be cliché. But, as I'll talk about more in a bit, I don't really have a problem with that.

*****

Now, looking at Options A and B, neither is perfect. Both of them have problems, even just on paper.

So, I wonder: is there a way we can combine the two so we have the best of both worlds?

Allow me to introduce:

Option C: Crosshair Has Tremors in Both Hands

In this version, we'd set up very early in Season 3 that Crosshair has tremors in BOTH hands. Maybe his tremors are more severe in his right hand, because he uses it more; or maybe because it's his dominant hand, it's more noticeable. It doesn't really matter.

Pretty much everything in Season 3 would happen the same way, up until 3.11, when — just like Option B — Crosshair misses the shot on Pabu because of his hand tremors not because of the timing.

Then, in the 3.15 hangar fight, CX-2 still cuts off his right hand so we have payoff for their one-sided rivalry and have our dark, high-stakes conclusion to the hangar fight.

So, by the time we get to the final confrontation with Hemlock, we have double the tension because Crosshair is missing his dominant hand AND he has tremors in his left hand too.

(Side note: Because S3 canon makes it clear that Crosshair's tremors are ONLY in his right hand, I wondered why he didn't start shooting his pistol leftie as a way to compensate. As we see in 3.15, his aim was fine, and we know he can shoot leftie pretty well from S1-2.)

Option C would also make it clear to the audience that Crosshair's PTSD/hand tremors are not "solved" simply because he got his hand cut off, which would be a problem with Option A.

So, under this scenario, we combine most of the pros for both Options A and B:

PROS: Payoff to the one-sided rivalry with CX-2; a dark climax for the hangar fight; additional tension to the final confrontation with Hemlock; playing into Star Wars tropes and drawing parallels between Crosshair and other characters who've lost hands/limbs, namely Anakin Skywalker; a greater narrative through line and payoff for Crosshair's PTSD/hand tremors throughout Season 3; a greater emphasis on the importance of family, love and community in addressing mental health needs

CONS:

Under Option C, I really can't think of any new downsides.

The only one I can see is people complaining that Crosshair overcoming his PTSD/hand tremors through the "power of love" is cliche. But, as I said, I don't have a problem with that.

If we're going to be reductive about PTSD and its symptoms — with hand tremors being only one of many possible symptoms — I would much rather be reductive in a positive way. He's able to briefly overcome his hand tremors in a moment of need because he has his family's physical and emotional support. That's a far cry from "His PTSD/hand tremors are now solved!"

(EDIT: You can make the case that this also happened in the canon version. While I agree that Crosshair only made that shot in 3.15 bc he had his family’s support, I still don’t think the resolution to his PTSD/hand tremors plot line was well-executed.)

As I said I'm not an authority in mental health, but what I do know is that feeling mentally and emotionally supported, having a group of family and/or friends you can trust and confide in, and generally just having a sense of community are major factors to improving one's mental health.

Throughout Season 3, we see Crosshair wanting to deal with his hand tremors (and likely his PTSD in general) by himself. But, his family help him address it and begin the healing process.

Hunter to Omega in 3.08: See if you can convince (Crosshair) to get his hand looked at. Ignoring it won't make the problem go away. Omega to Crosshair in 3.08: Just because there's nothing AZI can do, doesn't mean your hand can't get better. Maybe you're the one who has to fix it. Omega later in 3.08: It's meditation. It'll help you heal. Not just your hand, but your mind too.

So, yeah, if we're going to be reductive about something as heavy and complex as PTSD and mental health in general, I would much rather emphasize "the power of love/friendship/family" than whatever the alternative is. Even if it's cliché.

Honestly, I think Option C would've been the best option of the three I've discussed. There are a few other possibilities I've considered — like what if CX-2 knew about Crosshair's hand tremors from their time together on Tantiss and CX-2 cut off his left hand in the hangar fight??? — but I think we'd ultimately end up covering a lot of the same ground.

However, these are all my opinions. I'm interested to hear everyone's take on this. Feel free to comment/reblog with your thoughts.

[ainri]

hello! I'm the one who asked for one of illumi (yandere) could you make it headcanons?

illumi zoldyck as a yandere (hcs and drabble.)

•hunter x hunter

•yandere illumi headcanons + small drabble

•mostly fem oriented

•assasin/servant reader

•fic warinings: !dark content!, mentions of death multiple times including reader + reader’s family, insinuated character death at end, forced labor, undergarmnet theft, swear words, mild gaslighting, obsessive thoughts.

•🔞

•masterlist

•a/n: this is my first request so ty!!! tbh i rlly like writing yanderes like its just so fun? anyways someone should really do a crime count because i had to put some extra stuff in the fic warning so that people wouldn’t go crazy on me or call me insensitive 🥰sorry for the wait i completely forgot abt tumblr…..🙊if it doesnt make sense its because i rushed it bc i felt bad for how long i kept my anon waiting (sorry anon pookiebear) and its 1:27am 😞😞

continuation of this post!

<🌟🌟🌟>

-how did you end up this position again?

-oh yeah thats right! your parents were also assasins who just happened to have ‘issues’ with the zoldycks.

-they had personal issues with silva due to a deal gone wrong between the two assassin families.

-how did silva handle getting played by your parents? by sending out an order to kill them.

-but silva is a higher class man with much bigger issues. who’s better to do the job than his son illumi?

-of course the original order was to kill you, your father, and your mother.

-when illumi saw you walking back onto your family’s estate something in him just snapped.

-he just couldn’t help it; he had to have you, no matter the cost.

-that was the moment he realized he couldnt just let you die or kill you.

-you were…special?

-that was the first mission he had ever failed… he just couldnt bring himself to kill you.

-after silva finished beating the shit out of him; illumi had an idea.

-illumi spoke of this idea to silva; to make you a personal servant in return for you and your parents’ lives.

-of course silva agreed, once silva privately told you of this ‘agreement’ you had to agree.

-best to not test the zolycks’ willpower and to not test the waters.

-working as illumi’s personal servant was fine, that was before your panties started disappearing randomly from your laundry bin.

-“master illumi, i hate to bother you with this but have you seen my panties?”

-“no. what are you saying servant?”

-he quickly retorted back, almost, no, way too quickly.

-of course, this all started to add up when the male zoldyck house staff started to ignore you + avoid you like the plague.

-apologizing profusely to you over the smallest mistakes or accidents.

-this was all bizzare…. you needed answers, as quickly as possible.

•••

it was a calm day of cleaning when suddenly you walked in on it—illumi torturing your male coworker who helped you clean the atrium yesterday. “master illumi, what are you doing?” the servant asked horrified and confused,

“none of your business servant-“ he stopped himself to reword his sentence, “you know what? no! i was teaching him a lesson for speaking to you. besides you only belong to me!-right? right? say you belong to me! i killed all of those men—no, boys for you and you can’t even say, ‘thank you master illumi.’!?” he was yelling, now losing his temper.

“master illumi i didnt ask for you to kill for me! whats wrong with you? you-you-you psychopath! youre being completely delusional and irrational!—“

CLANG

all you saw was black as you felt your vision go blurry with illumi hitting you in the head with skme heavy blunted off object.

“i don’t appreciate that (name), i don’t appreciate it at all. you ungrateful woman. all i ever wanted to do was love you. clearly you cant even allow me to do that much. what a shame.”

END

••••••••

©2023 ainri; do not repost my work without credit or repost my work in a different language♡

[moonlit-midnight]

The kind of heart (I can bet my life on)

Characters: Malleus Draconia, cameos from the Prefect and Lilia Vanrouge.

Genre: Hurt Comfort, Romantic Fluff.

Summary: Wherein you were lucky enough to spend your last moments with your beloved prince.

Warnings: Reader is a female, has an illness, and is a resident of Ramshackle.

—

Do you even truly love her?

If you treasure her dearly, you should also be lovers during the hard times, not only during the happy times.

Malleus Draconia felt pathetic as he recalled what the Ramshackle Prefect told him two weeks ago.

He felt pathetic for not paying proper attention to your wellbeing, and for not noticing the tiredness in your eyes and the exhaustion in your body which followed you like a dark cloud during your dates and hangouts.

He failed detecting the signs of your bad condition because he was too focused on the happy moments.

He was too focused on the bright side to the point of forgetting that even strong people could break, and even optimistic happy-go-lucky people lose their shine sometimes.

So by the time you confessed to him regarding your deteriorating health, the dragon fae prince didn’t take it well.

He got mad at you for keeping it a secret from him although deep down he knew that you hid it unintentionally, and he even had the audacity to avoid you for a while.

Two weeks later, Malleus regretted his harsh actions towards you.

He felt awful for firing hurtful words which he shouldn’t be saying to you.

Sure thing he was hurt, but the pain he felt was nothing compared to the anguish and agonizing pain gnawing at you everyday.

“Are you going to keep wasting your time sulking, and let your beloved girl slip away from you?” The prefect of Ramshackle casted a dark glare at Malleus. “You owe her an apology. Her days are numbered, so get a grip already and be with her.”

“What if she doesn't forgive me.” Malleus was sitting on the floor, staring blankly at your pastel blue bedroom door.

“Nonsense,” The prefect scoffed. “She’s not a vile person. She’s too soft on her friends, especially you.”

“I don’t deserve her forgiveness.” Closing his eyes, Malleus ignored the wrenching pain clawing at his heart violently.

The prefect let out an irritated grunt, fed up with the fae prince’s gloomy mood and persistent negativity.

“If you still won’t talk to your girlfriend by tomorrow, I’m going to drag you to her myself.”

With that, the prefect left the dorm, spending the night at Heartslabyul with the Adeuce duo.

They weren’t sure if Malleus would budge from his spot, but they were hoping that he would finally have the guts to knock on your door and talk to you.

★ —

Malleus stirred slightly upon feeling something soft making contact with his forehead.

Slowly fluttering his eyes open, your beautiful face came into view, smiling radiantly at him.

“Good morning, love.” You brushed another tender kiss on his forehead.

It was a good morning indeed.

You were alive, very much alive, breathing and living another day.

Despite your hopeless condition, another bright morning came to greet you.

“I missed you.” Malleus suppressed the urge to cry.

“That’s my line.” You chuckled, putting your arms around him in a warm embrace.

He nestled his face in your hair, breathing in your soothing scent which always smelled like gentle rainfall in a cool spring morning.

He whispered his sincerest apologies over again and again.

He begged you to forgive him for hurting you with insensitive words, for reacting in a bad way after revealing your sickness to him, and for not being there for you when you needed him the most.

You remained quiet, delicate hands patting his back ever so gently.

Your little actions was enough to convey that he was forgiven.

★ —

Malleus was busy reading the collection of haiku poems you wrote recently, too engrossed in your impressive writings when an impatient knock interrupted him.

“Malleus Draconia, get out of your room this instant.”

Rushing to the door, the young fae was greeted with a look of disbelief from his vice housewarden.

“Have you forgotten about your beloved’s invitation to a sleepover tonight?” Lilia raised a brow at him.

“Oh,” Malleus’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe I almost forgot about it.”

“Get moving boy, can’t keep your precious princess waiting.”

Malleus gave Lilia a thankful smile before teleporting to the Ramshackle dorm.

★ —

Glowing green fireflies surrounded your dim lit room, illuminating every nook and cranny.

No matter how many times you witnessed this scene, it still managed to steal your breath away.

“I hope I’m not late, my love.”

“You’re just in time.” You chortled, beckoning Malleus to join you.

He took in his surroundings, astonished at the simple yet pretty transformation.

You transformed your small room into a cozy fortress.

The floorboards was covered in three layers of comforters, fluffy pillows scattered everywhere, and the pink fairy lights Malleus once gifted you was finally put to use.

You were sitting nearby the open window, letting the night breeze caress your hair.

Malleus quietly plopped down beside you, engulfing one of your slender hands in his gloved ones.

The entire time the two of you didn’t say a word.

You plainly basked in each other’s comforting presence for two hours, and honestly it was more than enough.

At the stroke of midnight, you drew him into a kiss.

As tacky and silly it might sound, you often kissed at midnight because you thought it was romantic.

The stars in your dorm in the middle of the night always gleamed splendidly, as enchanting as the vivid fireflies that Malleus always left in his wake.

Once you broke the kiss, he gazed at you with a look filled with melancholy and deep sorrow.

Smiling at Malleus, you cradled his face in your loving hands, telling him that he shouldn’t feel bad for you.

To begin with, you were already afflicted with illness before you were swept into Twisted Wonderland.

You assured him that he shouldn’t feel sorry for letting you engage in adventurous activities during your dates which strained your health sometimes.

Your dates were either too simple; strolling at night while holding hands, writing poems in the library, making ice-cream cakes at his dorm and sharing your baked goods during lunch in a quiet place. Or too extreme, mostly racing each other in the sports field and soaring high in the skies.

Being able to fly was a childhood dream of yours, so Malleus never hesitated to make your dream come true.

He took you to the skies whenever he could.

Although it drained your energy sometimes, it was worth the risk.

You were an adventurer, a girl who wanted to live her life to the fullest, so any activity spent with Malleus even if it was exhausting was definitely worth it.

“Why did you choose to love me?” He asked after a long silence, tone laced with bashfulness and curiosity.

“Because you have the kind of heart that I can bet my life on.” You exclaimed in delight, gentle voice overflowing with devoted love and sincerity.

“You also have the kind of heart that I can bet my life on, my dearest.” He echoed your words as he smiled fondly at you, green eyes glistening with joyful tears.

Both of you were sure that you could pursue happiness together and love each other endlessly no matter the circumstances.

Before drifting to sleep, you gave him one last kiss for the night, and told him something that he would remember for the many years to come.

“My dear Malleus, when I leave this world, honor me by celebrating the life I lived with you, and don’t mourn my death for too long. It might take a very long time for you to move on and start over again with someone new, but I promise you, you’re going to fall in love again and it’s going to be amazing.”

[captainjunglegym]

WIP WEDNESDAY - 13/03/2024

Tagged by jon @bigassbowlingballhead love u pal <3

I am on somewhat of a short writing sabbatical I tell myself. I've posted nearly 75,000 words in six weeks which is a lot for me. So I'm taking this week to relax from my WIPs before starting to post scheduled oneshots and start a new chaptered fic.

That being said i wrote a 1500 word fic this morning which you can just have here lmao.

Summary:

Exes Alex and Henry meet at the funeral of Henry's twin George who was killed suddenly aged only thirty-five. They haven't seen each other in four years.

The wind is bitter as it blows down from the top of the hill. It’s March, so it’s that time of year where the sun isn’t quite ready to negate the feel of the chill early in the morning and late into the evening. It’s already eleven am and the sun does feel warm when the wind dies down. A few moments reprieve where Henry doesn’t have to pull his coat tighter around his body or wish that he’d worn something that was more wind proof.

They don’t really make raincoats that are funeral approved, however.

Still, he pulls his thin black pea coat so it doubles over him. It’s too big. It’s not his. It was too big for George too, but his brother loved to wear oversized things. Said it made him feel small and holdable.

The thought crushes Henry. What he’d give to hold George now.

Everyone else has already gone. His mother didn’t even show. Her grief is exponential, increasing and deepening at such a fast rate now that she cannot be touched. Losing her husband young destroyed her, but burying one of her children eviscerated her. Not even the scars of her former self remain anymore.

And Henry understands. More so maybe this time than when his father died. He loved his father so much, but George was his twin, the other half of his soul. Maybe this is what his mother felt. Maybe this is what it feels like to break apart. Except she isn’t haunted by her husband by every reflective surface, by every future birthday. By every photograph of his childhood, every fucking Instagram post. By every friend they had because they didn’t even have separate friendship groups. Everything they had they had together and now Henry inherits it all.

It's too much.

(continues under cut, tags following)

It’s times like these that Henry curses being raised as an atheist. He wishes he could believe that something came after this, that he and George will meet again, but he can’t. People tell him that George is in a better place. A dark part of him agrees that six feet under some fucking dirt is probably better than living in a two bed on Peckham Highstreet. It’s a lot cheaper.

Henry gets the sudden urge to jump into the grave. It’s open, waiting for someone to come and cover George and seal him down there forever. Henry could just jump in with him.

“I didn’t think anyone would still be here.” A voice says from behind Henry, startling him.

He turns to see a beautiful man wrapped up in a warm black coat and scarf. It’s Alex, because of course it is. Who else would be so late to a funeral they miss the entire service. Who else would spring up out of the ground at Henry’s moment of despair like some kind of macabre dandelion.

“Right on time, I see.” Henry tries to snark, but his voice comes out small and fragile.

“My flight was delayed.”

Henry hums. “Nice to know George wasn’t worth flying out a day in advance.”

“Don’t.” Alex says, firmly but not aggressively as he moves to stand next to Henry. “Don’t do that, H.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t act like I didn’t care about him too.”

Henry feels crazed, like he wants to scream and tear off his clothes and jump into the lake and inhale the water.

He lets out a forced laugh instead. “Oh right! Of course. My apologies. Of course my ex-boyfriend who I haven’t seen in four years also cares about my fucking dead twin brother, so much so that he shows up uninvited at his funeral an hour too late. I’m sorry for being so insensitive.”

“H-”

“-No!” Henry shouts. It’s so out of character that it snaps Alex’s mouth shut. He lowers his voice. “No. I don’t know why you’re even here.”

Alex looks down at his shoes. “Would you believe me if I told you Philip invited me?”

Henry scoffs. “Pull another one.”

“It’s true,” Alex says gently. “He called me…after… He called me when, uhm-”

“-When George was stabbed to death in a pub in broad daylight?”

Alex lets that sit for a moment. “Uhm. Yes. He called me again to invite me.” He takes a deep breath and when he speaks again his voice cracks, “we were together for ten years, Henry. I loved George like he was my own family. We were a family.”

And they were. Alex had met Henry at university, and they fell in love almost immediately. Alex had transferred to London and George was assigned to be his ‘buddy’ and he’d always taken credit for introducing Alex to Henry. Always said that he’d have to mention that in his speech at their wedding.

The air leaves Henry’s body, but he doesn’t breathe out. It just evaporates in his lungs. He and Alex never got married. George never got to give his speech. And now George will never be able to give a speech at his wedding. Never be his best man.

But he has to give it to Alex. George was his friend and he know that they’d sort of kept in touch over the years, in an Instagram comment every couple of months. He never begrudged George of that. Their breakup was hard, and Henry got everything. Got their friends, their flat, the whole fucking country. Alex had gone back to Texas and not looked back. George was collateral in their breakup too and Henry knows that losing Alex was tough on him as well.

“H?” Alex is hesitant, but he gently takes Henry’s hand in his.

“I don’t know how to do this.” Henry says suddenly. “I don’t know how to do any of this without him.”

George was his better. The two-minute older brother who was confidant and sociable, who looked after Henry every fucking day for thirty-five years. Who literally and metaphorically held Henry’s hand throughout all of their hardships. Henry remembers their father’s funeral, how Philip was stone silent, and Bea was high, and their mother was vacant. How George, only eighteen, took charge and read a eulogy. He was a lighthouse built onto the rock, so strong and bright.

Afterwards George had cried, they’d both cried, in each other’s arms. But the next day George had got out of bed and forced Henry to do the same.

“It’s going to be hard; I know.” Alex says, squeezing his hand. “But you’re stronger than you give yourself credit. I mean. Look at me. You left my sorry ass.”

Henry thinks about how Alex had lost himself in his work and how their relationship had degraded over six months of broken promises and missed dinners and sitting alone in their apartment. And how it broke him down into nothing before he’d finally had enough. They’d both had enough.

He’s heard that Alex is doing better now. That he’s finally learning how to have that work/life balance that was only a dream to them back then.

“I’m all alone this time.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes I am. Bea has Michael and the twins. Philip is…well he’s Philip. Mum is completely vacant and our friends are all grieving.”

Henry knows Alex is going to say some placating bullshit like, ‘oh it’s okay you have me,’ like he doesn’t live thousands of miles away.

“You should come stay at the lake house.” Is what Alex says instead.

“What?”

The lake house was their place. Before everything went to shit, they often spent time there, sometimes with their friends, sometimes with Alex’s family, sometimes just the two of them. It’s a haven, really. A place where time doesn’t exist. All sunshine and water and blues skies.

“Come stay at the lake house. Get away from London for a while.”

“But my family-”

“-Be a little selfish for once, H.” Alex turns to him and looks him in the eyes. “I don’t have to be there. You can just come and unwind in the sun. Take a break from this all and have time to grieve properly.”

It’s insane. It’s irresponsible. It’s not possible. He buried his brother an hour ago, his family is falling apart again but.

But this time they all have their own families to fall back on. Their own spouses and kids. Even his mother lives with Philip and Martha and has them to look after her.

Henry lived with George, not out of necessity, but out of love. George who’s dead. George whose dirty tea mug is still on his bedside table and his laundry still in the hamper.

He can’t go back there.

“Okay.” Henry says. “Okay I’ll come with you.”

And, later, it’s hard to get on the plane. But once he’s in the air, he takes his first deep breath in weeks.

[End]

easy tag for @anincompletelist @eusuntgratie @nocoastposts @getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @littlemisskittentoes @thinkof-england @happiness-of-the-pursuit @wordsofhoneydew @sparklepocalypse @magicandarchery @sunnysideprince and anyone i've forgotten plus open tag for anyone!!!

[love-toxin]

Joker from persona 5 for the smut alphabet with a gn reader if i may ask lovely 🌹

ohhhhh u got me in a p5 mood babey!!!! <33

joker [akira kurusu] - (a-z)

(cws: gn!reader, various kinks, roleplay, very few minor spoilers, couple mentions of body insecurity, ambiguously post-canon, dirty talk, mild possessiveness, gags, a bit of public indecency.)

A = Aftercare

Such a cuddler. He's clinging to you before you've even caught up with that last big gasp your orgasm punched out of you, snuggled right up to your side with his arms around you to ease you back down from that near-unreachable high. He holds you so tight and so warm in his chest, squeezing you just hard enough not to hurt but to comfort--and as soon as you're calm enough for him to get up, he slips down into the cafe to make you some tea and fix you a little snack. He'll even run out to the grocery store down the alley if it's still open, if you ask him for something he doesn't have on hand. No gesture is too much work for his baby, and he's never too tired to do something that will make you smile.

B = Bondage

Tying you up? Yeah, he likes it--more than he should, he feels. It's kind of strange to think of himself as a kinky person, he feels a bit like a pervert in that sense, but the thrill he gets out of binding your arms back and leaving you helpless before him is totally undeniable. He likes that you can't cover your face to hide those pretty expressions he draws out of you, and he loves hearing you beg to touch him back with a blindfold snug over your eyes. You don't even know what you want, you can't tell where the pleasure's gonna come from next and you couldn't prepare for it even if you did--you just turn into a sweet, needy mess that just has to lay back and be worshipped, and what's not to like about that?

C = Cum

He cums a lot, much more than average, and he's pretty aware of it even though he's relatively inexperienced. It's potent and probably an effect of his persona's power since he never really noticed it before, but either way it just gushes out of him like a firehouse and it's pretty hard to control. He makes such a mess whenever he tries to pull out and shoot one out on your legs or your tummy, but your face is always a huge casualty too. It gets in your eyelashes, your hair, down your chin, your brows, just everywhere. He's like a one-man bukkake, and while it's something he's a little insecure about it's honestly impressive. It's pretty cute when he apologizes for it too, and blabbers on about how you just sounded and looked so adorable that he couldn't help himself...

D = Dirty Secret

If you were really insecure in the beginning of your relationship and had a hard time relaxing while doing the deed, Akira has gone into Mementos alone and searched out your shadow to see if he could help you from the inside out. His reassurances never seemed to go anywhere and since you always ended up feeling worse for not being able to just enjoy yourself (probably because of some insensitive comment from an ex or just self-esteem in general), he knew it had to be something deeper that maybe he could help you with. He really wasn't expecting your shadow self to spill your guts to him at the first sight of him without any battling necessary, and he also wasn't expecting that questionably hot dark version of you to paw at him and push him down to climb on top--but since it seemed to help you tremendously in real life, Akira secretly heads down to Mementos whenever you get stuck in a depressioned rut, and fucks that other self of yours stupid to remind the real you of how gorgeous and absolutely desirable he finds you.

E = Experience

Akira hasn't got too much experience with intimacy itself. He's rarely ever had crushes, even, up until he met you--and after you, he never found the same feelings welling up inside when he thought about anyone else. Before you dated and when he was in that phase of just crushing hard, he tried time and time again to turn his affections elsewhere so as to not ruin your precious friendship by confessing one-sidedly. But that only made him realize that you really were the only one for him, and he would never want anyone else except for you. How could anyone even try to measure up, let alone compare? You're just perfect.

F = Favourite Position

Missionary man all the way. He likes other positions but none feel as intimate to him, he likes the hitch of your legs around his waist and the untouchable closeness of being chest to chest and mouth to mouth as he makes love to you. Plus your hands on his back accelerate the experience for him, being surrounded by you and cushioned by your body and inside you all at once....it's a dream that he would never trade for anything. But of course, he's not entirely close-minded; he's definitely willing to experiment if his angel wishes for it to be so, he would be absolutely tickled pink to sit and listen to you talk with a hot face as you explain to him what you want him to do to you, how you want him to move you, and how you want him to take you.

G = Gloat

He's not really a mean kind of person (not unless it's directed towards someone who seriously deserves it) so it doesn't come out too much in the bedroom, or in any aspect of your relationship. But he does get possessive, and he has a habit of letting his stream of consciousness spill out in a murmur right next to your ear, all while he pins you where he wants you and gives you something to moan about. "Nobody gets to have you like this but me. You think I would ever give you away? No, precious. Never. You'd have to kill me before another man puts his hands on you, and even then they'd never take care of you as good as I do. Only I can make you cum the way you need."

H = Hair

He's just really not a hairy guy, he's got some bush and a bit on the undercarriage but he shaves it to the point that it's pretty sparse, but what he does have is quite dark and wiry. So if he ever did leave it untamed you'd be in for quite the jungle to cut through, but even so he'd at least trim it for you because he's a gentleman. And on the flipside, his inexperience means he doesn't know really know what to expect, so whatever you choose to do with your own hair is just what he assumes is normal. He has no business telling you to grow it or shave it, and he wouldn't because would it really make any difference? Your hair or lack thereof isn't what attracted him to you so it really doesn't have any bearing in the grand scheme of things.

I = Intoxication

Not much of a drinker, but if you have a night out with his friends from high school he can get quite clingy with a drink or two in him. Twirling a piece of your hair around his finger and mumbling in your ear about when you can go home, or just when you can find a place to sneak off--no, he's not too drunk, he can be quiet while you play with him. He promises. (Lie) His friends are definitely gonna hear you giving him brain in the bathroom at the bar, and it's gonna be quite the awkward situation to come back to with Akira's fumbling and his red cheeks and Ryuji laughing his ass off in a half-shocked half-congratulatory reaction.

K = Kiss

J = Jack off

Not a big self-pleasurer. Porn isn't really his thing, in video form or in magazines, and with his open-concept room he's quite aware of the lack of privacy that might compromise an unsuspecting visitor's image of him. Plus he's got a hard time controlling his volume. So if he does do it, he keeps it short and sweet, but when you're dating he usually just saves it for when you're over or you have a bit of time to sneak away for a rendezvous. You make him feel better than touching himself alone does anyways.

He's not a kissy person in a public setting, really he can barely hold your hand in public without getting flustered. But that shyness goes out the window the moment you're alone, when nobody's around to see it Akira could spend the rest of his life just planting soft, fluttering kisses all up and down your body. He especially likes to kiss your hands and your knuckles, and especially when he's buried inside you and looking down on that sweet face that makes him so, so happy. He'll just take your hand and bring it to his lips, squeezing your interlaced fingers and planting kisses on each knuckle until you're squirming and warm under the constant attention. He loves to feel you clenching down on him when he does that, it makes it feel even more special and so much more passionate.

L = Lazy

If he's too tired or if you feel like doing all the work, he's happy albeit a little shyer than usual to let you get on top and ride him. He tries to beg you to sit on his face instead, he doesn't want you to see how red he's gonna get and how pathetic he'll look when he gets to watch you....but he'll probably lose like he usually does against you, and you'll get to watch that pretty face contort in all sorts of ways as you bring him to his end faster and even harder than usual.

M = Marking

He'll leave some scratches and a few bruises here and there, but never anything too severe or sore. He does enjoy it when you drag your nails down his back though, he wants to see those raised streaks of red in the mirror the next morning and know that he fucked you good, good enough for some of them to bleed. It's an almost masochistic kind of pleasure that he's not sure of where it stems from, but he likes it and it makes him happy so it really doesn't matter all that much.

N = CNC

It's not something he's ever really considered, but he might enjoy playing out a scenario while he's donning his Joker costume. The masked hero taking his reward from an adorable victim who owes him their life....yeah, that's not a bad idea at all. Especially if you whimper out those little cries of "This is wrong, sir!" while you moan at the same time, that really revs some kind of desire he didn't know he had. He always ends up turning a little soft in the end and dropping the act when he's ready to cum--that's when he's so vulnerable that he just wants the affection of his angel and nothing else.

O = Oral

Again, pretty inexperienced in this avenue, but he really wants to practice and try it out to get better. He wants you to love having his head between your thighs, he wants to be known for it--he wants you to quiver when he suggests giving you head, and fold when he looks in your direction and makes a gesture that lets you know exactly where he wants to put his mouth. Having you grip his hair and hump his face because you can't get enough is his dream, and he's determined to make it a reality. Especially since you seem to be effortlessly good at it, either because he's extra sensitive or because you just know all the things he likes and every button to push to have him spurting ropes down your throat in minutes. He wants to get that same reaction out of you, he's got to.

P = Panties

Honestly he really likes the idea of fucking you while you're wearing his clothes. Or jerking him off with your hands donning his infamous gloves. But as far as underwear goes, he likes licking you over it and leaving a big wet patch from his spit in the fabric as you tremble and start messing it all up, especially when he pulls away and you just whine that he's a tease as you start touching yourself under it. It's such an easy way to have you looking all cute and clingy and staining your clothes like he's marking his territory.

Q = Quickie

You'd think he wouldn't be too fond of potentually exposing himself in public, but quickies are one of those things that he feels so dirty doing it actually leads him to doing it more. He's definitely humped your throat in an alleyway a couple times, and even let you ride him atop the ceiling of a palace or somewhere deep and hidden in Mementos while the others look for him. Mostly cause it's fun, but also because it really turns him on to think that you're needy enough that you'd urge him to do something so indecent that could get you both in so much trouble--and because he loves you, he simply has no choice but to satiate you when you need to be serviced. Ah, what a regrettable, yet unavoidable curse!

R = Risk

There's not much of a risk factor with him, he plays things pretty safe even when you're doing things in a bit of an impromptu manner. Teasing him about doing things a little more raw after you get married is a one-way ticket to flustering him though, and giving him the idea of not using a condom or not pulling out because you're completely devoted to each other....it's a dangerous thought. It's so intimate and you've only done that a couple times, so thinking about doing it all the time and leaving you leaking and full of his seed just shifts something around in his brain and makes him totally sensitive and shy until he gets it out of his system. Besides, a lot of that comes from you suggesting the two of you having a wedding and him being your husband--how is he supposed to react when that's his deepest desire and something he's already saving up for?

S = Spit

He likes having you clean his cock with your spit, and he gets unfathomably dirty with it if you let him run with it. Mutters on about how "You left my lap all sticky, go ahead and clean it up for me." with a hand perched in your hair. He sticks his fingers in your mouth and shifts them around like he's doing an inspection before he lets you lower your mouth to his dick, and it's all to have you salivating so your tongue's nice and wet when you move to lick your own cum off his glistening shaft. Make it as wet and sloppy as possible, and he'll reward those dripping, swollen lips with as many kisses you can handle--on both ends, no less.

T = Toys

Absolutely no idea what he's doing with them. If you explain to him that they help you get where you need to go, so to speak, then he'll be happy to explore them a little more with you. You'll have to introduce him slowly cause it intimidates him a little, especially if you're more familiar with them than he is--but once he gets a handle on them, he actually turns into kind of a pervert about it. He'll buy you something new that he wants to try together or just something he knows will make you cum really fast, and he always, always wants you to demo them for him. Show him how good you feel with them, won't you? He's gotta know if they work so he can take them back if they don't. Has to be a diligent customer, right? So don't be shy about telling him everything you're feeling when you touch yourself with it for him to watch.

V = Volume

U = Unfair

That quiet nature masks the biggest tease on earth, you could swear he's like another person when you're alone or when you're with his friends. From making dirty jokes to placing a well-timed hand on your thigh during a group conversation over dinner, Akira teases you like it's his day job and he always reaps the benefits as much as he pays the consequences. As possessive as he can get when he really gets into that mood, a plea from Yusuke to make a nude painting of you will get a burst of laughter out of your boyfriend, before he playfully jokes that he could stand in and describe you to him instead because he knows you inside and out. A playful shove and a chorus of giggles and lighthearted scolding from Ann for being a pervert later, and Akira will be on top of you in his bed with lust-filled eyes and a whispered promise that he'll never let someone else peek at you under your clothes. "That's all for me, isn't it sweetheart?"

He likes to think he's quiet but he's really not. You can hear him moaning from the bottom floor of Leblanc if he's touching himself while waiting for you to arrive, and you just have to thank the powers that be that he never does it while the café is open, lest he get the most embarrassing lecture from Sakura that would just burn him alive. Gagging him with your underwear or a hanky is really the only option if you want to take things elsewhere or if there's people around, or else bystanders are gonna get some pretty visceral descriptions about how hard Akira's gonna cum for you and exactly how soft and tight you are as you're squeezing his cock.

W = Wildcard

His favourite way to receive head is to be on top. It's weird, at least he thinks so, but he just really like the idea of straddling your shoulders, hunching over you to clutch a pillow in his arms above your head, and slowly rock his hips to plunge his cock down your throat in a steady rhythm. You can't move, can't get up, can't even speak in this position, all you can do is spit and choke and gag when he gives you a spare moment to breathe, but it's all at his command, all at his leisure. He likes the thought of possibly falling asleep while he's nestled so deep inside you, and pinning his hips to your poor face as you're forced to lay there and just suckle on it until he cums hard enough to wake up. It's quite the vulnerable position, but if you ever agreed to try it with him, he might just die out of pure adoration and worship you to the heavens.

X = X-Ray

Smooth and unblemished. It's mostly on the straight side with a bit of a curve down, and not too slim but he's got some heft packed on to the underside that makes it feel a lot heavier. The tip has a deeper ridge that you really feel when he first pushes in, deep enough that it catches when he pulls out too and makes it feel like he's suctioned tight inside you and can't pull out without some force. But that also makes it easier for him to plug you up with cum, and when he does unhitch himself, he always leaves it spilling out quickly and making a right mess all over your poor legs. His balls aren't huge or especially heavy, but they're shockingly soft and pretty smooth and almost artistic in the way they rest against your backside when he's nestled in deep inside you. Also very, very sensitive, and you can feel them twitch whenever he cums as they tighten up and then relax once his cum starts pumping out and easing the pressure. He mumbles about how dirty you are when you lick them because of how your head's positioned, but you both know he loves it and it makes him even cuddlier and needier with you after he cums.

Y = Yearning

Nothing turns him on like you calling him your hero. Teasingly or seriously, it stirs something inside him that can't be ignored--he promises to be your hero always, to do the right thing and to rescue you whenever you need saving, wherever either of you may be. But it's a little more flustering when he makes those promises with a husky voice by your ear and his cock straining his pants, cause you'll know exactly what he means when he asks if, as your hero, he might have a reward from his helpless, darling little civilian that owes him their life.

Z = Zzz

He prefers to sleep through the night but he doesn't fall asleep too quickly after sex, although it's a different story if you wake up next to him and notice him humping his pillow or the sheets--or your leg, if he's situated just right. Sometimes he's awake and just didn't want to wake you, and sometimes he's asleep and just having a really good dream. Either way, you have full and expressed consent to hump him right back if you want to, or just push your pajama bottoms down and let your boyfriend sleepily push his cock inside to keep it warm. He'll try his best not to cum, but no promises, okay?

[giggly-squiggily]

Trying my luck with this aaaaa but hello friend! It's been a while, I hope you're taking care always ✨

I heard you're opening requests again and am honestly not quite sure if this'll go through considering the focus on Scarlet/Violet as of late, but if it's not too much to ask, I'd love to see a little drabble featuring my sacredshipping sweeties. Maybe Eusine's been feeling down on his luck as of late with his Suicune-chasing turning up fruitless, and Morty decides to cheer him up with a little weakness of his that he's known since childhood? (Though he has to be careful, since Eusine most definitely knows how to turn it around on him just as easily, hehe/////)

Only if it's alright of course! Speaking of pkmn though, I've been loving all the Arven content. He deserves all the warmth and laughs and comfort especially with everything he's been put through :'D

That's all from me, have a wonderful day ahead :} 💖💫

Hey friend! :D This is beyond late- my apologies! God I love these two; friend you're making me fall in LOVE! I've gotcha covered! :D (Oh you're so sweet! Thank you so much! I need to write more Arven stuff eventually; he is the definition of comfort goals!)

Have an amazing day friend! I hope you like it :D

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@thatbigbisexual29 @gladdygirl18 @cupcake-spice13 @t-wordiiish @sarahmaystock5578 @rachi-roo

Another day, another lack of Suicune sightings.

Eusine wasn’t a foolish man. He understood legendaries were referred to as such for a reason, and he knew going into this quest there’d be periods of time where nothing seemed to come out of it.

It didn’t make his defeat feel any less intense. Expected, but just as hard hitting.

“Eusine, check this out.” Morty flopped beside his slumped figure, a map in hand showing the town over. “They got a pokemon cafe! You can order drinks with them drawn in the foam! You love that kind of thing!”

“Do they now?” He sounded so miserable it hurt. Morty puffed out his chest as he gave the map a wiggle, aiming for more flair.

“Yeah! They also make different cakes. A Gengar Forest Gateau, a Poliwag Swiss roll, and a Sui- '' Whoops. Morty realized his mistake far too late. Just the beginning of the word zapped away any intrigue from his boyfriend’s eyes, casting them dark with defeat.. “-Cone…sorry, Eu. That was insensitive.”

“No, no, please don’t apologize.” He reached out, squeezing Morty’s hand before the blonde could linger on it. “You’re fine, truly. All of that sounds amazing, and I’d love to go with you. I just…” He looked out at the scenery- bitter acceptance coloring his sad smile. “I’m just finding it hard right now to be excited.”

Morty understood that. How many times did he feel just as defeated over missed chances catching a Spiritomb? He remembered venting to Eusine once over it after what felt like the final chance- utterly pissed until his boyfriend-

The ghost trainer blinked. Then he looked at Eusine. Would it work? Failure would prove disastrous.

Eusine’s sad smile wavered, strengthening Morty’s resolve. Some risks were worth it.

“Finding it hard, eh?” Morty fought down his grin, shooting a finger into Eusine’s side. “Very well- I’ll just have to find it for you!”

“Eeek!” Eusine jerked at the touch, rubbing at his side. He leaned away as he stared, knowing exactly where this was going. “M-Morty, don’t you da-Ahahahre!”

Poke, poke, poke. Morty shot both hands forward to rapidly jab at his torso, grinning at the various squeaks and yelps the other man let out at his touch. “Gotcha! Come on, Eu- give me a smile!”

“Ehehehe! EHheehehehhahahhaha!” Eusine doubled over at the pokes, his seemingly permanent frown quickly melting into a wobbly smile as he tried to catch his boyfriend’s hands. “M-Mohohohorty! Mohohorty, my lohohohove pleahahahhase!” He squealed when those pokes turned into gentle squeezing, kneading at his sides and nearly sending him tumbling to the ground. “Ahehahahaha, it tihiihihickles!”

“Does it now? I wouldn’t have known!” Morty laughed with him, scooting closer and moving his hands to the brunette’s ribs. “Given how you’re always tickling me, I’d assume you weren’t ticklish anymore! Now I know the truth!”

“Ahehahaha-heheheehheihiiihihihiii!” Eusine let out a long winded wheeze as he sank backwards, curling up to the best of his abilities. It did nothing to prevent Morty doubling his efforts, scribbling into his belly and earning even more giggly squeals. “Mhiihihihy loohohohove! My loohohohohoove, hahahahve mehehehehhrcy!”

“Mercy? Oh alright- only because you’re cute.” Morty winked before pulling his hands back, watching Eusine gasp for air beneath him. His cheeks were rosy, eyes shiny with unshed tears as he tipped his head back. Such a pretty sight. The ghost trainer wanted to kiss him.

…Well?

“Yooohohu’re so-Mmph!” Eusine yelped when Morty leaned in and did just that, capturing his lips with his own. A quick kiss, but the effect lingered as Eusine softened before him. “Wehhell…I suuhuhpose that made the whole tickling thing worth it.”

“Suppose?” Morty raised a brow, yelping when his sides were grabbed. “E-Euhuhuhusine!”

“Supposed indeed. While I do appreciate the kiss, I think this is what I really want.” Bodies shifted. The worldview got turned, and before long Eusine had Morty pinned beneath him, scribbling into his sides and making the blonde shriek and gasp. “You truly didn’t believe you could tickle me and get away with it, did you?”

“Gahhahahahaha! Gheehahhahahhahaha nahhahahahah! Nahahhahaha I dihihihihidn’t thihihihink thahahaht at ahahahahhahall!” Morty cackled out, thrashing like a bull against the grass. “Ehehehehehehu, cohohohohohome ohoohhooh, I’m shhahahahahhhahahrry!”

“No you’re not.” Eusine pointed out without malice. He reached down and gave Morty’s legs a squeeze, making him scream.

“FIHIHIHINE FIHIIHHINE I’M NOOHOHOT! GEHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA, EUHUHUHU!” The blonde squirmed so hard he flipped on his belly, limbs spasming until he tucked them in as Eusine pinched along the backs of his thighs. “I DOOHOHOHN’T REGREHEHEHT IT! GAHHAHA MOHOHOHOVE SOHOHOMEWHHEWHHERE EHEHEHELSE!”

“Hehe, bad spot?” Eusine laughed as he went back to his torso, dancing his fingers into Morty’s ribs and making him shriek. “My my, you’re ticklish just about everywhere! How could I ever forget such an endearing tidbit about my beloved?” He leaned in to kiss Morty’s neck, smiling against burning skin as the blonde slapped the ground rapidly. “Giving up so soon? Very well.”

He pulled his hands back, nearly choking himself on laughter at the skittery sprint Morty took to put distance between them. The ghost trainer tried looking tough, but Eusine’s wheezy giggles broke down his glare. He soon was laughing just as much as he returned to his side. “Arceus, you’re too good at that! I was about to see the light! My grandmother’s gengar was standing there with a pot of her homemade stew.” Morty shuttered, slightly green. “I think if I ate that, it’d be the true end of me.”

“Pfft! Aheahhahha!” Eusine waved a hand frantically, the other covering his smiling face as he laughed on. Morty grinned at the sight, drinking it like fine wine. It was such a nice change from earlier. “Ohoohohho! Ohoho, my- I lohohohove you so much, Morty.”

“Hehe, I love you too.” He leaned in and kissed his cheek, flipping out the map he held earlier. “So, about that cafe..?”

In response, Eusine’s stomach growled, making the blonde snort. “Oh hush, you!” Blushing pink, he laughed softly as he let Morty pull him to his feet, keeping his hand within his own. “Very well- let us go and try it. I’m rather interested in that Sui-Cone dessert you mentioned earlier.”

High above, out of sight and forgotten briefly in their plans, a lone dog sat. It watched them go with curious eyes, its mighty mane floating behind it in waves. It waited until they were out of sight before running off once more, awaiting their next encounter.

Thanks for reading!

[sky-neverending]

So, you guys remember this post? I finally wrote part two. It'll be up on Ao3 in a bit, but y'all get it first.

There was a moment of silence across the line, one that lasted far too long for Eddie to stay out of his own head. Before he could think, he was speaking, a question that was on the tip of his tongue finding its way out 

“You’re still mad at me, aren’t you?” He said, heartbeat speeding up when there was no response right away. 

“No.” Replied Steve after a painfully long ten seconds, but his tone didn’t seem genuine. There was pain behind them, a heavy weight weighing down the word. 

Eddie sighed, wrapping the phone cord around his finger. “Steve.” He said slowly, hoping he wouldn’t regret his next words, no matter how truthful they were. “You have every right to still be mad at me. I screwed up, and you don’t have to apologize to me if you don’t mean it. I’d rather you tell the truth.”

More silence filled Eddie's ears. He waited, clutching the phone close in case Steve did decide to talk. 

Finally, there was a response. 

“I don’t want to lose you.” Steve croaked out, the words giving away the fact that he was now crying. Eddie froze, unsure of what to do.

“You wouldn’t lose me.” He said, listening to the heavy sobs getting louder and louder. 

“Can-“ Steve started, but his voice broke as he stumbled his way through uneven breaths. “Can you come over?”

Eddie didn’t wait another second to respond. “On my way.” Was all he said before slamming the phone down and hightailing his way out the door and toward his van. 

He managed to get to Steve’s in ten minutes tops. The door was unlocked when he got there, so he pulled it open and looked around, trying to see if Steve was anywhere among the darkness. 

“Steve?” He called out, flicking on a lamp. “Stevie! Are you here?”

A small sniff drifted down the stairs and Eddie looked up to see Steve sitting on the top of them, arms curled around his knees. His hair was rumpled on his head, no effort put into making it look decent. He was a mess, as far as Eddie would tell. Even the faint yellow gleam of the lamplight gave that away. 

“Steve.” Eddie said, softer this time. He made his way to the stair, resting a hand on the railing as his foot fell on the bottom step. “Can I come up?”

There wasn’t a response, only the faint echoes of empty sobs. But Steve nodded, ever so slightly, just enough for Eddie to see the movement in the shadows his body casted down the stairwell. So he walked up, taking the stairs slowly. Head titled down, shoulders relaxed, knees slightly bent. Like he was approaching a skittish puppy, one he didn’t want to startle. 

He finally made it to the top and crouched, positioning himself next to Steve so the tips of his knees touched the other boy's thigh. He reached a hand out to lay it on Steve's shoulder, earning a subtle flinch. 

Eddie inhaled. “Are you okay?” He asked, already sure he knew the answer. Steve looked up at him before he spoke, his voice trembling and faint, like he was scared that what he would say would ruin everything. 

“No.”

Settling onto the wooden floor, Eddie let Steve's head fall on his shoulder. “That's okay, Stevie. That’s perfectly okay.” He reassured. 

Steve pulled back. “No it’s not.” His voice was louder now, but no less broken than before. “It’s not okay. I’m being dramatic. I shouldn’t have gotten upset like that. I’m sorry.” 

Eddie froze, confusion and anger filling him. Why was Steve apologizing? He didn’t do anything wrong. He had every right to be mad, to not want to see Eddie ever again. There was no reason he should be the one saying sorry.

And then Eddie thought back to the past few months. To the time Dustin broke a plate and Steve immediately excused it, scrambling to clean it up. To the time Robin ran into his hip, into his scar, and Steve said it was fine, apologized for getting in the way. But they all saw him wince when he thought no one was looking. To all the times someone was insensitive or rude without thinking and Steve was the one covering the damage, laughing it off at his own expense.

Every time someone wronged him, he was the one apologizing. Every time conflict arose, he pushed it down and plastered on a smile. 

“Steve?” Eddie questioned, word leaving his mouth before he could stop himself. “You do know you're allowed to be angry at people, right?”

Steve looked at him. “Yeah, of course I know that.” He said with a scoff, holding himself together. 

“Then how come you always sacrifice your own feelings to avoid conflict?” 

Heavy silence circled the room. Steve continued to stare at him, eyes blinking slowly as he tried to hold back the tears. Eddie sighed, taking Steve's hand in his own and gazing at him sternly yet softly all the same. 

“You can talk to me, you know. Stop hiding for once.” 

The silence stayed, only growing louder. But when Eddie was about to pull away, about to give up and just leave Steve be, he spoke.

“It’s easier to forgive and forget than it is to confront someone and risk losing them.” He said faintly. “I’m so tired of being alone. I’m not going to risk what I have because someone makes a mistake. I’d rather push my own feelings aside to avoid hurting someone else's.”

Eddie squeezed Steve's hand tighter. “You have absolutely every right to be angry with me. I messed up. Big time. And I don’t deserve forgiveness right away. Hell, I’d be fine if you never forgave me. But you’d never lose me. Not unless you told me to leave. I’d stay right here for as long as you’d let me.” 

Steve let out a long sigh. “I am. I’m angry with you.” He said. Eddie nodded.

“Do you want me to leave?” He asked, bracing himself for the answer he assumed was coming. But Steve simply shook his head a firm no.

“I want you to stay. I’m angry at what you did, but I could never ask you to leave. I need you right now. Please, stay?” 

Nodding, Eddie smiled lightly. “It’s late.” He said, tugging in Steve's hand as he stood. “Let’s get you to bed.” 

He pulled Steve up with him and guided him to his bedroom, letting them both tumble onto the mattress. Steve pulled him closer, staring up at the dark ceiling. 

“Tomorrow.” He said, taking a shaky breath. “Tomorrow, can we talk about it? And maybe try again at this whole relationship thing?”

Eddie ran a hand lightly down his arm. “Of course. We can talk, and if you need time, I’ll give it to you. Just know I’m here when, and if, you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.” Steve muttered, eyes fluttering closed as he let the darkness consume him for the night. 

“Good.” Eddie repeated. And he too let himself drift off to sleep. 

[kah-hoa]

Which character you like at first but eventually they got obnoxious and took too much screen time?

In an ironic twist of fate I think Edelgard's flaw as a character is because there isn't MORE to her.

When I first bought Three Houses I actively wanted to pick Edelgard's route so I went with Black Eagles, but I ended up getting the Silver Snow route by accident because I didn't freaking know that you needed to unlock rank A support with Edelgard and quite frankly the story didn't give me much of an incentive to get it either.(For reasons that I will disclose better later)

After finding out how to unlock the route and playing it I grew to absolutely despised her character. The writing for her route was short, bare bones and atrocious. No wonder a lot of people thought it was an inclusion added at last minute because the execution felt utterly sloppy, specially when compared to Dimitri's and Claude's route.

I will put my thoughts on my impression under more because BOY is my rant long and spoilers I guess:

Going back about the support bit, when I said that there was no "incentive" to seek it it was because in the main story her bonding with the MC is nonexistent. Her screen time is spent with her acting shady and secretive as fuck. There's no heart to heart, no events nor any story build ups to speak of to make it believable for either side to trust each other. You could even argue that it causes the opposite effect with how unnatural their interactions are around each other.

Specially during the MC's lowest moment in which, MY GOD, Edelgard was absolutely insensitive and tactless by basically telling them to "get over it" after it was emphasized that it was the first time the Protag's emotionless self was expressing/experiencing sorrow because of their father's death, which was, by the way, INDIRECTLY HER FAULT!!!

Why you ask? Because she helped the one to be his killer to infiltrate the Institution.

She never apologizes about it btw nor it's ever addressed by the plot as something they should talk about which I find absolutely infuriating because it makes the death of their father feel so POINTLESS and wasted writing potential.

Siiiigh.

And the problems don't end here.

I don't mind stories where the character has to get their hands dirty if it's made blatantly clear that it was a "necessary evil", which her alliance with the "Those Who Slither in the Dark" does not feel like it.

TWSITD doesn't make any significant contribution story wise to justify Edelgard borrowing their power to fight the "Worse Evil"(And aguarbly TWSITD feels like the bigger evil regardless of your stance on Rhea) and the collateral damage/casualties they inflict in their wake seems not worthy it.

(Which includes, again, the needless death of the MC's father.)

The tone dissonance between her actions and its gravity is also... Appalling.

She plunged the whole continent in war. There were a lot of casualties, confirmed and implied by the very nature of war itself, innocents were dragged in this conflict and yet none of her classmates have anything to say about that. They are so peachy and cheery in Crimson Flower route that it makes it feel more like a school trip outing than the continent engulfed in war.

(Also, they fall under the same problem with the MC's interactions in that, her retainer aside, they have absolutely no believable reason to follow her.)

Compare that with Azure Moon when the characters act believably uncomfortable around Dimitri because he's acting like an irrational beast and it's clear that they follow him more out of a sense of duty as their liege than the belief that he's doing the right thing until his character development hits.

Now where was all of this in Edelgard's route? Why was that not an option to make her work for it? To face head on their misgivings towards her actions and earn her classmates loyalty?

Oh right, Teeheehee~ Let's have a scene of Edelgard being embarrassed for having a drawing of the MC.

UUUUUUURRRRGHHH.

For real man, Claude and Dimitri have a lot of scenes where they confide on the Protagonist or have an arc that culminates in their development and Edelgard gets a SINGLE throwaway scene?

And on topic of the different routes, I know they wanted to have split routes with different amount of lore drops between them for replay-ability value and to sell the "different perspectives" angle but to have her route lacking so much in context compared to the others hurt Edelgard's case even more because It's already bad enough to have her make an alliance with shady punks that give no visible benefits whatsoever for all the horrible mess they cause in their wake, but to have her lack critical information? That just makes her look super incompetent and ignorant.

(Not to mention how anticlimactic the ending of her route is because it's the only route we are not given the chance to face TWSITD)

Edelgard was done super dirty. What a waste of a character with incredible potential. :/

[lilyblackdraws]

Part 2 of a short fic about arknights gladiia and plume 

Early evening. Plume is sitting in her room, reading to wind down from a thoroughly average day.

Someone knocks on her door.

Plume puts a bookmark between the pages she's on, places the book on her table, gets up and steps towards the door.

Before she gets to it, the door opens.

"May I enter?"

Plume lowers her eyes. It's Gladiia. She's already inside and has closed the door behind her.

She hasn't talked to her since that time a week ago. Couldn't find the right moment or words.

"I'll take a seat here," Gladiia says after having moved to the table.

She sits down. The chair isn't well-suited to her height. She sits up straight, with her legs crossed and stretched across the floor of the small room.

Plume takes her coat, puts it on and sits down in the chair she had just gotten up from.

She looks up at Gladiia.

"So... what brings you here today? Can I offer you something to drink or eat?"

Gladiia doesn't answer right away. She looks around. There isn't much here. A bed, a closet, the table they're sitting at, two cabinets. There are some photos and other things on the cabinets, but it's too dark to properly make them out.

Then again, Gladiia might be able to even with such little light.

After surveying her surroundings she looks at Plume.

Gladiia smiles faintly. "I've been observing you for the past few days."

So she has. It didn't escape Plume that Gladiia had been watching her exercise. Not much had been going on this past week. There hadn't been any missions or coordinated training, she had just been going at it by herself or asking the instructors or other operators to coach or train with her.

"I've noticed."

Plume makes a small gesture with her right hand while trying to find the right words.

"I didn't mean to ignore or avoid you. I just... didn't find a good moment to approach you."

"That's absolutely fine. I wasn't intending to take up your time like that in the first place."

Gladiia uncrosses her legs, then puts her left over her right instead.

Plume never really had any guests in her room, so now it felt especially small.

The conversation progressed at an agonizingly slow pace and she had no idea what Gladiia was thinking or what kind of mood she was in.

"Then, what do you think?" Plume asks.

"You're not terribly strong. Physically, that is. You're quick, you have good reflexes.

It makes me wonder why you're using such a weapon. You'd be better suited to something lighter, or even a crossbow."

Plume sighs and glances at the top of one of the cabinets.

"That's... I've gotten used to it. It's nothing, really."

Gladiia narrows her eyes. "No, please do tell."

"I don't want to take up too much of your time."

"I came here for you. There's no such thing as..." Gladiia slightly raises her left hand.

"being short on time. We'll talk for however long we like."

"Okay. So, I'm from Laterano and I used to be part of... well, basically the border guard. This halberd I'm using is their standard-issue weapon." Plume pauses. Gladiia looks at her and nods.

"In training I was never able to properly adopt their techniques since I lack the strength, but I developed a workaround. You're probably right and I should either look for something completely different or at least a lighter model..."

Gladiia's expression softens.

"No, I can respect that. Such an attachment can be rather precious."

Silence returns to the room.

The two look at each other.

"Could you stand up for a moment?"

"Yes, of course." Plume responds without delay and stands up in a clean motion.

"Would you mind taking off your coat?"

"That's..." Plume pulls her coat closer.

"Ah... I see. I apologize for being insensitive."

"Oh, no. It's nothing, I'm just not used to being seen in my casual clothes." Plume takes off her coat, folds it and places it over her chair.

Gladiia inspects her for a few moments.

"You're rather small."

"About average for my kind."

"Right."

"Isn't it more a case of you being quite tall in the first place?"

Gladiia narrows her eyes and looks through Plume.

"Right. But it's not just about height."

"I see. Well, again, average."

Gladiia nods.

Plume puts her coat back on and sits down again.

"You'll be free two days from now."

"I'll..." Plume thinks about her schedule for a moment. "have to check, one moment please."

Gladiia waves her hand dismissively.

"I wasn't asking. I'll create a three day gap in your schedule, starting two days from now. You'll meet me on the deck at sunrise. Bring your gear and some provisions."

Gladiia rises.

"Thank you for your time, Plume."

Plume gets up and moves to open the door for Gladiia.

"I have to thank you. I'll see you then."

Gladiia nods, raises her left hand towards Plume for just an instant, but stops the motion and leaves.

Two days later, some time before sunrise.

"Gladiia I cannot believe it. You couldn't have a friendly conversation to save your life."

"I believe that we have had rather amicable talks."

"This is exactly what I mean. If only you could listen to yourself talk. Did you really just waltz into her room at night, talk at her for half an hour without saying anything and leave?"

"Laurentina... We may be friends, but if you continue so casually insulting your captain I might have to enact some punishment."

Laurentina wiggles her hands at the sides of her shoulders. "Laurentina", she says mockingly.

The two bicker for a while longer until eventually Plume arrives at the appointed time.

Laurentina walks up to her and puts her hands on Plume's shoulders.

"Tell me, did she bother you? Did Gladiia harrass you?"

Plume's eyes widen and she tries to back up. "N-no, not at all. I'd say that we've had a very pleasant chat."

"You can be honest, even though she's standing right next to us."

Plume laughs a little.

Laurentina glances at Gladiia, Gladiia shrugs.

"I'm sorry, it was just weirdly funny somehow. I appreciate that you're worried about me, but Miss Gladiia really is very nice to me."

Laurentina lets go of her. "Okay. Just don't let her intimidate you too much. She puts up a facade all the time, but if you can handle the way she talks she's enjoyable to be with."

"Why are you telling me this now?" Plume refastens her bags and fixes her cape.

"If you're going to be spending three days alone with Gladiia you can't just be having staring contests and stiff conversations all the time. Just talk to her like I'm talking to you."

"Right."

Laurentina exasperatedly gestures towards Gladiia.

"See! She's already picking up your one-word replies."

Gladiia shrugs. "If one word is all that's needed, why use more words?"

"It's about... flavour, ambience... There's an artfulness even to speech."

Laurentina turns back towards Plume. "Well, either way. Have a nice trip."

"Trip?"

"Did Gladiia not tell you?"

"She just told me to meet her on the deck."

"Well she's taking you on a trip."

"That I am." Gladiia steps forth. "And it's high time we depart. We mustn't waste a single minute."

Gladiia turns away from Plume and kneels down a bit.

"Get on my back."

"I'm sorry?" Plume tilts her head.

"Get on, I'm carrying you."

"Imagine the honour of being carried by our captain."

Plume looks at Laurentina. "Is this really alright?"

"If she's telling you to get on her back, then get on her back. Bags and all."

"Okay..."

Plume walks up to Gladiia and then isn't sure how to proceed.

Gladiia moves her arms back a bit.

Plume just kind of jumps onto Gladiia's back, who then hooks her arms and Plume's legs together, while Plume wraps her arms around Gladiia's upper body.

Gladiia steps onto the railing, turns to Laurentina, nods to her and then jumps off the landship.

[knock3]

Hey, serious post again. If you were hurt by my insensitive depiction of ray toros mouth, that through my inattention strayed too close to racist caricatures of black and dark skin people, I offer you a full apology.

I wanted to take a step back and think things through so I could do this honestly and with a clear head. In the end, all discussions of art style and context aside, my priority is minimising harm to other people. Sorry this happened! I will endeavor to be more considerate in future.

For now I have ammended the image in the post in a way that I think is more appropriate. I am sorry the original will still be in circulation due to the whole nature of tumblr.

To preserve context I am putting the source image and the original art underneath a cut. To anybody who has reached out to me with feedback and advice, you've been wonderfully helpful, thanks!

[a-random-weeb]

Name:rei

Height:5’4

Eye color:black

Hair color:black

Hobbies: reading and crocheting

Likes: cold drinks, giving out physical affection, plushies, listening to music, murder mystery books/shows and spending money

Dislikes: people who make fun of my interests, people who are insensitive as shit, math actually I LOATHE math, people who are genuinely rude for no reason

Personality: very skittish and shy at first and will rarely engage in any kind of conversation or activities first but after a while I start getting comfortable and will often make dark humor jokes and prank people by lying about something harmless and after they start panicking too hard I admit it’s a lie.

VERY touchy my hands need to be on someone or I need to lay my whole body on someone in order to achieve peace, very bad memory someone will tell me to do something and I’ll forget it the next second or I’ll accidentally text the same thing to someone again after forgetting I already texted them that thing.

Very socially anxious I refuse to do anything that will make me stand out in public in any way and will completely shut down and become the most silent person ever I’ll only be normal if I have someone with me I know well enough to be comfortable.

I act dumb with people I know but when confronted with a situation I do a whole 360 on my personality and start actually being smart after calling a fan a cooler for 3 minutes not realizing it’s called a fan (actually happened to me while calling with a friend I had to show her my “cooler” during call and she yelled it was called a fan.)

Sorry if it’s too long I just went all out because I was too excited😭

im glad you're excited! And don't worry about going all out, all it does is help me know what kind of person you are better! General headcannons with Fyodor, right?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

•At first, Fyodor takes no interest in how shy you are

•Slowly though, you two somehow become friends

•When he finds out your a more excited person, he's a little shocked

•He thinks your dark humor is funny, though, he can always tell when you're lying

•he thinks the moments when you randomly turn into a smartass are adorable, he always lets out a small chuckle, especially if you're wrong

•He finds you very amusing

•He lives for the physical affection you give him

•He likes to tease you about being short (even though he's 5'11 which is way too tall anyway)

•You get him back by saying he's too tall

•He laughs at your silly insult

•5'4 isn't even that short, how are some people out there 7'5! You're being greedy! Give us 'short' people some of your height! I know you have some to spare since you're constantly bragging about being so tall! TvT

•i didn't mean for this to turn into a rant of making tall people do the physically impossible but anyway-

•He definitely buys you plushies

•Mystery movie nights are very common with both of you, aswell as book talk.

•You both cuddle a lot

•Hes pretty sadistic at times (Or so I've heard one again idk that much about him), meaning he probably makes you do public speaking sometimes, just to see you panic

•He apologizes after and cuddles you, maybe even a 'reward' if you know what I mean 😏

"You did so well with public speaking today Rei~ oh? You look like you're still a bit panicked? I can provide a bit of a... distraction... yeah, let's call it that" he smirks as he pins you to a wall. I'll let your imagination do the rest

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘

I had a lot of fun writing this one surprisingly, I hope you're happy with the way it turned out!

[jankwritten]

You can say tsats has bad writing but you are purposely being obtuse when you say nothing from will’s narration shows how much he cares for nico. first of all why are you limiting attraction to just physical features? (and will does compliment on Nico’s features btw 🙄). will mainly compliments Nico by who he is as a person but is horrible because he didnt talk about nicos hair? And how was will there to “baby” and “heal” nico when the majority of the time they were in the underworld will was weak/suffering and NICO was the one having to help him?? Nico LITERALLY took care of Will more than vice versa. And when did Will ever say he is not comfortable around nico di Angelo?? WHAT?

1) I haven’t personally finished the book yet, so most of my interpretation on Will’s narration is from the people around me who have finished the book/made it further than I have. I’ve only made it through 1 of Will’s POV chapters. Could come out of this agreeing with you, though I don’t think I will.

2) I didn’t mean to say that Will’s narration makes it sound as if he doesn’t care about Nico AT ALL (if that is actually something I said). From what I’m hearing from those around me who have finished the book however, it often feels as if Will is insensitive to a lot of things about Nico, which is strange considering they’re a couple meant to be a year into their relationship. I didn’t say Will was horrible for not talking about Nico’s hair, I meant it’s strange that Will seems to constantly step on Nico’s toes and doesn’t seem to have a lot of care for Nico’s feelings with some of the things he says (which, I’d the book was going for that, then fine, but I don’t think it was)

3) Nico di Angelo should not be struggling this hard in the environments this book puts him in, even in the context of him struggling with his mental health and reliving his traumas. A specific example of this is how the demon who was cursing him and Will with nightmares when they first enter the underworld somehow manages to COMPLETELY render Nico useless during their fight, meanwhile Will randomly unlocks an ULTRA POWERFUL new ability that lowkey doesn’t make sense. Nico is an extraordinarily strong demigod who has proven time and time again he can hold his own against gods and titans, a demigod who doesn’t run away from a battle, and yet in TSATS, as far as I’ve seen, he’s not had that same Vibe.

4) the PJO series is based around the characters and their disabilities. For Nico’s powers and trauma to have been dialed ALL the way back to what it was in TSATS, it starts to feel like the narrative is purposely weakening Nico to make him seem more “damaged” and traumatized. That’s infantalizing.

Also - Will babying Nico can be seen in his reluctance to let Nico use his powers, as if he knows what’s better for Nico than Nico knows himself. When I say babying, I don’t mean “who is taking care of the other more”, I mean who is treating the other more like that person can’t take care of THEMSELF. And, from what I’m hearing from those I trust, Will (and largely the narrative itself) is CONSTANTLY making it seem as if Nico can’t take care of himself.

5) isn’t the literal whole premise of the book Will coming to terms with being uncomfortable in the underworld, which is a MASSIVE part of who Nico is? Isn’t the whole thing based around the idea of Will having to come to terms with the fact Nico has “darkness” in him, and that Will has some of that darkness too? Will is explicitly uncomfortable with parts of Nico that make up a big chunk of who he is. Like that’s a HUGE part of the book.

(Apologies if this is incoherent, I just woke up and am writing this on my phone. If I get further in the book and realize I’m wrong, 🤷 cool. However, from what I’m hearing, I don’t think I will be)

[11n0l0nger-human]

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