#but i do actually think it’s really interesting how he’s able to recognize in this moment that even though he is an ultimate he is

[themyscirah]

Started thinking about the Amanda Waller + Ben Turner relationship again.... fuck, I'm gonna need a minute

[batw1nggg]

in my opinion komaeda is like a really enthusiastic feminist like if he wa sbeing annoying and you wanted him to shut up and you told him “thats sexist because im a woman” (he said nothing sexist) he would back down immediately and begin profusely apologizing even if you were joking . can condone murder but draws the line at sexism etc etc (komaeda enthusiasts look to tags for further rambles)

[rolanpilled]

BG3 Patch 5 Spoilers

WARNING: BG3 SPOILERS AHEAD!

New content from the ending scene of BG3. This is all from the perspective of a redeemed Dark Urge who romanced Shadowheart and Halsin, and recruited every "good" ally possible.

people at the party: all your companions, scratch, owlbear, volo, and a bard in the middle playing a song (his name is milil)

lae'zel is the only one who isn't here physically, she sent an astral projection instead because she's been busy fighting vlaakith

astarion explains why he ran away (ashamed) when the sunlight hit him, he's become a "hero" who adventures and has accepted himself

(romanced halsin) you can hug halsin, he's missed his friends and you. you can do both the hug and the kiss, it's really sweet. he's turned the shadowlands into a community, repursing reithwin and moonrise towers into homes for people

jaheira's daughter rejoined the flaming fist, she's been working on rebuilding the harper network. the upper city was entirely destroyed by the battle but has been mostly rebuilt. she jokes that you might be a parent soon

wyll gives you a choice between three stories, a stegosaur/dinosaur battle, an impossible lich, or a young dragon. he lost his warlock powers but has been managing the best he can, and has become a RANGER ("a true hunter of monsters"). duke ravengard is commanding the flaming fist and help rebuilding the city, and he's very proud of his son

minsc and boo guard the streets while jaheira is "occupied with harperish manners". they "went to give a tickle" to the zhentarim, then got locked up in a zhentish cell, awaiting execution? idk if i'm reading incorrectly but he seems to be implying that he actually GOT executed but withers brought him back just in time lmfao

gale has become "professor gale dekarios of blackstaff academy, educator of the esteemed school of illusion". tara is with him. he surrended the crown of karsus to mystra, who cured him of the orb in exchange (his tattoo is gone), though his students still think he's explosive (he implies that he uses it as a threat to keep his class under control). he tells his students about your adventures together. he also implies you're welcome to visit his tower

shadowheart (main romance) - the game told me that we settled down together to live a happy, peaceful life on a farm in the countryside. shar still hurts her (if parents are saved), especially when she can sense that SH is enjoying herself, but it's been getting less frequent because she's been "losing interest". there's a new hug and kiss scene for her too, so i'm assuming this is for ALL companions and not just halsin/SH/whoever

withers will speak to you about karlach, explaining that she won't be able to come back. he jokes about her, which is rare for him, and you're given to opportunity to grieve her loss. in "a dozen tendays" (assumedly how long bg3 is), "an entire life was lived, she lived several centuries" (not exact quote).

milil, the bard playing in the center, does NOT want to be there. he's pissed that no one recognizes him (he's pissed specifically that i'm a bard and don't recognize him), i had to pass a deception check to recognize him and he cheered up and offered to change the song he's playing

there's a chest called "Chest of Grateful Words" filled with letters from your allies!

"Official Guild Letter"

"Letter from Barcus"

"Letter from Art"

"Letter from Valeria"

"Letter from Ravengard"

"Letter from Sebastian"

"Letter from Florrick"

"Letter from the Gur" (unascended Astarion)

"Letter from Alfira" (durge, killed quil grootslang)

"Letter from Dammon"

"Letter from Elminster"

"Letter from Nocturne"

"Letter from Voss"

"Letter from Hope"

"Letter from Mayrina"

"Letter from Nine-Fingers"

"Letter from Zevlor"

"Harp-stamped Letter"

Baldur's Mouth Gazette

If you find anything interesting I missed, please let me know.

[bluebeary-jay]

Be still my foolish heart (don't ruin this on me)

Neighbor!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: you and Joel have been neighbors for a while but despite your mutual interest in one another, you never crossed this line. until, after one tense situation, Joel slips up (based on this wonderful request!)

Tags: friends to lovers, love confessions, fluff and angst, Joel is your sexy neighbor you shamelessly drool over, also his toolbelt is an important character in the fic (don't judge me)

Warnings: angst, 'nice guy' alert 🙄, attempted assault (stopped by Joel), some nsfw content but not actual smut (yar girl is gettin there 😌)

Word count: 6.2K

A/N: hiiii my darlings!! sorry for the wait, i know it's been a long time but life was crazy. here's sth i've been workin for a looong time and honestly i stared at it for so long i no longer know if i'm proud of it or not 🙈 anyway, i really hope you guys will like it and as always, happy reading!! 💕

“I really don’t know how to thank you, Joel. This is incredible.”

Joel watched, slightly embarrassed, as you walked around the table with a wide, bright smile. You gripped one of the legs – the one that was previously crookedly attached and broke down when you put something heavier on the counter – and tested its stability. After a successful inspection you looked up at him.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Nah, nothin’ of the sort.” He waved his hand, feeling a big lump in his throat when you directed that pretty smile of yours at him. “M’just glad I could help.”

“You didn’t have to fix this, too, though.” You brushed the edge of the table which Joel sanded so you wouldn’t get a splinter from the rough surface. His eyes followed your fingertips before he coughed.

“Didn’t want you to hurt yourself. This side was practically smashed up, after all…”

“Still, I didn’t even need to ask you.” You shook your head in thoughts before glancing at him with gratitude. “Thanks again.”

“You really gotta stop thankin’ me.” Joel started to gather his things into the toolbox and wiped his palms on his pants (certainly not because they were slick with sweat). “It was a piece of cake.”

“But, you know.” You tilted your head to the left and right, scrunching your nose playfully, and it was so fucking adorable that Joel thought his heart was going to give out. “You already fixed the sink in my kitchen, that hole in the wall, my door, and now my table… Are you sure I’m not leeching off your generosity?”

A half-smile found its place on Joel’s face, and he shook his head with a chuckle. “M’sure. It’s only fair since we’re neighbors, sweet girl.”

Sweet girl.

Joel never knew if he wasn’t crossing the line by calling you that. You never gave any sign of discomfort or disgust when he did, but he also recognized that regardless of your reaction, he should stop. He couldn’t deny that his old heart harbored an embarrassingly big crush on you – after all, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes on – but it wasn’t right to think about you in that way.

If he only knew that every time he let those words of endearment slip, your heart started to do crazy somersaults.

Joel Miller was an extremely handsome man, there was no denying that. And with his deep drawl, the salt-and-pepper hair, the warm, brown eyes and that dangerous smirk he sometimes sent in your direction… it was no wonder you fell for him.

It also didn’t help that he was so kind, always ready and eager to help you with the smallest inconvenience. Sometimes it made you want to smash something in your house yourself, just to have an excuse for him to come over again and for you to be able to watch him work.

But you weren’t that desperate, yet. Yet.

Your daydreaming was rudely interrupted by a series of knocks on your front door. Both your heads snapped in the direction of the sound, but when you recognized the familiar pattern of it, your mood dampened in an instant.

Joel noticed the change in your expression, of course, and immediately stood up, leaving the toolbox on the floor.

“What is it?” he asked with a hint of alert in his gruff voice, but you shook your head.

“It’s nothing. Don’t go yet, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You exited the room before he could ask another question, and Joel furrowed his brows. He stayed rooted in spot, listening to your heavy step as you walked to the door and opened it. And then… he heard a male voice that started to say something to you.

Joel couldn’t help but grind his teeth as he finished gathering his stuff, ready to go back home. It was the second time that some man came to visit you while you had him over, and the bitterness he felt in his mouth was even more noticeable than on the previous occasion.

He knew you were quite popular in Jackson, especially with boys your age. There was always someone offering to buy you a drink or dance whenever you went out with your friends, and once Joel had to even step in when two drunk guys kept pestering you. But as much as it pained him, some of those men who showed genuine interest in you were quite nice. And good-looking.

And a lot younger than him.

He knew very well that he was too old for you. He knew that he shouldn’t fantasize about sharing a life with you, and that thinking of any form of intimacy between you and him was making him a big old creep, but no matter how many times he swore to himself it’ll be the last, he could not stop. You were just so beautiful, so sweet and so nice…

He saw your smiling face when he went to bed late at night, and imagined your body beside him when he woke up early in the morning. He looked at your house on his way to work and wondered if you were eating breakfast already, taking a shower or still sleeping peacefully amidst the many blankets he saw once on your bed. He felt a rush of energy and endorphins every time you knocked on his door, asking him to help you with something, and it only enhanced his already existent protectiveness toward you.

Suddenly, Joel heard a raised male voice from the porch, which instantly got his guard up. He quickly followed the sound, and upon rounding the corner he saw you trying to close the door on Jack, a boy he recognized but never talked to. He saw him a couple of times at the bar, though he wasn’t one of those bothering you and never seemed to give anyone any trouble.

Still, you looked really uncomfortable, so when your and Joel’s eyes met, he nodded reassuringly and took his place in front of you.

“Is somethin’ the matter?” he asked dryly. The sight of him took Jack aback and he opened his mouth, looking lost for a good moment. Joel raised his eyebrows, and the young man cleared his throat.

“Nothing at all. We were just chattin’.” Then Jack looked over Joel’s shoulder at you, completely ignoring the other man. “What the fuck is Miller doing in your house, anyway?”

You stammered, but Joel kept his cool, leaning against the doorframe casually. Jack was tall and well-built, but still smaller than Joel, and he made use of this fact to intimidate the boy to the extreme.

“Mr Miller is helpin’ her with the sink that needs fixin’,” Joel answered instead with a pang of irritation. “And you’re kinda interruptin’.” Jack didn’t move, and Joel clenched his jaw. “Scurry. Now.”

The boy huffed, murmuring something under his breath before he bid you a grudging adieu. Joel shut the door behind him with more force than he intended and took a second to calm his breathing before turning back to you.

“Sorry if that was too harsh–”

“No, don’t apologize.” You sighed tiredly and went to the living room, plopping down on the couch. “It’s okay. Maybe he’ll back off a little.”

Joel bit the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should ask the question that was gnawing at him mercilessly.

“Are…” he started, and you lifted your head. “I mean, are you two…”

“No!” you quickly answered, blushing a little to Joel’s surprise. “No, no, nothing of the sort. He asked me out and I told him I’m not interested, but he still tries to…” You waved your arm in the direction when he saw the youngster last. “I don’t know, convince me?”

Joel sat down next to you, clasping his hands together. “Well… if he ever gives you any trouble, you lemme know, alrigh’?”

A small smile spread across your face when you tilted your head to look at him.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Then a playful glint appeared in your eyes, and your smile turned mischievous. “...Mr Miller.”

A breathless laugh escaped Joel, and he dragged his hand over his face, praying that he managed to stifle a groan wanting to escape his chest. He shook his head to regain some clarity, but could still feel all the blood in his body rushing down. It didn’t help that your couch was too small, and your knees were touching – though Joel couldn’t tell if it happened when he sat down or a little bit later.

Fuck.

“Shut up,” he just murmured, not looking at you in fear you’ll see what your words did to him. “I tried to make him leave quicker.”

“And he did. And I think you deserve a reward for your help.”

You stood up and for a second Joel panicked. A reward, you said.

He couldn’t help the images that flooded his brain in that moment – of you on your knees in front of him, or bent over the table he just fixed. His eyes went to your thighs, and his own flexed involuntary when he envisioned how you’d feel underneath him, what sweet sounds he could coax out of you, how soft your skin would be in those places you kept covered…

But then you walked past him, and he snapped out of the naughty daydreams.

“Wh-where are you goin’?” he asked, his voice strained, and you looked over your shoulder with an oblivious smile.

“I made a cake this morning. I’m gonna bring you a piece, yeah?”

You didn’t wait for an answer, and just left the room with pep in your step.

Joel groaned and let his head fall back, covering the redness of his cheeks with his hands.

Idiot.

Almost two weeks have passed since the last time you asked for his help with something, and surprisingly, Joel was okay with that. After that embarrassment he experienced in his own mind, he told himself that it would be prudent to distance himself from you for a little bit. At least until he could act normally around you.

He still thought about you constantly, that he couldn’t help. Every time he saw you in town he instantly felt lighter, but so very often you were accompanied by another man – and no matter if you seemed comfortable with the attention or not, Joel always had this urge to come over and protect you from any unwanted suitors.

He was being ridiculous, he knew that. You didn’t like him the way he liked you, and even if he somehow grew a pair and told you about his feelings, a pretty and young girl like you would never be interested in someone who could be her father’s age.

The thought of you thinking of him as a father figure churned up his guts, making him feel sick. Jesus Christ.

But it still did nothing to weaken his infatuation, and when you finally knocked on his door again, asking if he could fix the rack in your room, he didn’t even hesitate before agreeing.

So here you both were. Joel, looking at the problem at hand, and you, looking at (none-the-wiser) Joel.

“S’nothin’ big,” he finally said after some examination. “I’ll replace the shelf and reaffix it to the wall better. Shouldn’t take long.”

You nodded, but truthfully you were only half-listening. The sight of Joel in your bedroom was far too distracting.

It’s been so long since Joel was a guest in your house – well, only a couple of weeks tops – but you missed seeing him in your private space. Though one could say, he never truly left with how often you thought about him.

So maybe that’s why you were so shameless with your staring.

His broad shoulders were to die for, and you bit your lip absentmindedly as your eyes wandered across his muscular back and forearms, usually hidden under the sleeves. You knew you shouldn’t be ogling your neighbor who was nice enough to lend you a helping hand whenever you needed, but… well, a little admiring wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

And there was a lot to admire.

“You listenin’ to me?”

The brutal wake-up call of his voice pulled you out of your thoughts, making you blush wildly and your body hot with embarrassment at being caught staring.

Okay, maybe it would hurt someone.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, feeling your whole neck heating up rapidly. “Uh-huh. I understand.”

Joel’s lips stretched into a lopsided smile, and he turned to face you fully.

“I asked if you have some nails in the house,” he repeated, not breaking eye contact. If you allowed yourself to be delusional, you’d say his voice sounded almost… flirtatious. But that was probably only your head telling you what you wanted to hear.

“Yeah…” you breathed distractedly, but then shook your head quickly. “I mean, no. No, I don’t.”

Joel smirked, stepping closer to you and making you swallow heavily. Your gaze once again dropped to his strong arms, down to his big hands and… fuck. He had his thumbs hooked in his tool belt, already hanging low on his waist, and it made him look so ridiculously hot.

Lord have mercy.

“What got ya so distracted, sweet girl?”

Have fuckin’ mercy.

“Nothing!” you said, a bit louder than you intended, crossing your arms over your chest to do something with this splitting tension in your body. “I was just looking at… the shelf.”

Joel’s eyebrows shot upright. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he didn’t believe you. “The shelf,” he repeated blankly, and you nodded, trying to appear calm despite feeling like you were going to burst into flames if he kept looking at you like that. But then Joel chuckled, and his eyes turned as warm as always. “M’only teasin’. Stop lookin’ so scared.”

“I’m not–” you started, but your lips also spread into a grin when you saw his genuine smile. “God, you’re insufferable. Will you fix it or not?”

“So demandin’,” Joel mused, shaking his head and walking out of the room. “I’m gonna go get the nails from my house. Be right back.”

You whispered under your breath something he didn’t hear, but it made him smile to himself nonetheless.

It was so easy to slip back into this playful banter with you, Joel thought as he made his way back home. Maybe things between you two won’t be as awkward anymore (though he was aware all this awkwardness was his fault), and he could go back to being your friend.

No matter that he wished he could be something more. No, it wasn’t right to think that way. What you two had was enough.

Still, as he looked for those damn nails, he couldn’t get out of his mind the way that adorable blush spread across your face. And how your eyes lingered on his figure when he looked at you. But no, surely he was only imagining things.

…right?

Joel sighed, closing the door behind him and going back toward your house, his thoughts already on the best way to fix that shelf of yours and maybe stabilize it a bit more, because by the look of how it hung on the wall, it was only a matter of time until he’ll have to visit again.

Or maybe he’ll leave it be. Only to have an extra excuse to see you sooner rather than later.

He rolled his eyes at his own musings, but the train of his thoughts abruptly stopped when he saw your front door slightly opened. He slowed down, wondering if you went after him… but no, there was no sign of you anywhere, and he was pretty sure he closed it on his way out.

And then he heard a faint sound of glass shattering.

Joel’s mind went completely blank. In a blink of an eye he stormed into the house, his survival instincts formed over the last twenty years kicking in and screaming for him to find you, to make sure you’re safe and unharmed.

But your bedroom was empty and when Jeol yelled your name, no one answered him. You were within the safe walls of Jackson, and there was no way the infected or raiders could ambush you, but still Joel felt an icy wave of panic washing over him, his mind providing him with terrible scenarios that would explain the open door and your silence.

Then a small thud reverberated from the other room, and Joel’s legs carried him there without a second thought.

He slammed the door open, and his eyes immediately locked on the man holding you against the wall. Your assaulter – that fucking kid, Jack – had one hand covering your mouth, the other forearm pinning your shoulders to the wall. His knee was between your legs and Joel could see you standing on your tippy toes, trying to pull away as far as possible.

Joel’s hands were itching to get rid of the threat that guy was for you, but first his gaze involuntarily shifted to your face – and his heart clenched painfully when he noticed your terrified expression and tears streaming down your cheeks.

The blinding rage in Joel’s veins almost charred him from the inside out and he felt like he was about to explode from the fury seething inside of him. In two long strides he ran towards Jack and all but threw him off of you, stepping to the side to act as a shield between you and him.

“You just signed your death sentence, kid,” he growled and punched the other man in the face when he tried to get up. You screamed behind him, but Joel ignored it, the need to beat the living daylights out of this little shit almost overwhelming his senses.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Jack yelled from the floor, holding a hand in front of his face. “You broke me fucking nose, man!”

It was true, the blood was flowing freely from the already swelling nose, but it didn’t feel like enough. Joel had to utilize every fiber of his willpower to keep himself from venting his wrath on this kid. He knew damn well it wouldn’t end well for either of them – Jackson had hard laws when it came to violence.

“You deserve a lot worse,” Joel gritted his teeth and motioned with his head towards the exit. “Now get out.”

“She wanted it!” Jack shouted, as if he hoped that his explanations would make the situation any better. He wiped the blood flowing from his nose, glaring at you angrily. “Stupid bitch,” he snarled, “can’t make up her mind. Didn’t I do enough for you?! I was nice, always helped you–”

“Get the fuck out of here before I break your jaw,” Joel cut in, clenching his fists and taking a step forward. The young fucker seemed to size him up for a couple of seconds, probably wondering if starting a fight was worth it, but eventually spluttered contemptuously.

“Fine,” he snarled, and then looked below Joel’s arm at you. “I wouldn’t want to catch somethin’ from you, either way, if you’re already fucking this old geezer.”

Your face, and also Joel’s, grew hot – but while yours was red from embarrassment and shame, his was burning from barely concealed rage.

“OUT!!” he shouted, his thundering and powerful voice making both you and Jack flinch. His face was twisted in fury and the other man must’ve realized that staying here longer would only mean worse for him, because he scrambled to his feet and ran out without another word.

The front door slammed shut behind him, and for a few seconds a heavy silence hung in the air.

Joel took a steadying breath, trying to restore his cool, but he felt himself shaking from rage. If he didn’t come back in time… if he was a minute late, he didn’t want to think what that bastard would’ve done to you.

Trying to shut down the intrusive thoughts, Joel turned around and knelt by where you were still seated on the ground. He couldn’t will the tension in his body to lessen, and his muscles and tendons were so taut that he thought they were going to snap. But he forced his hands to unclench before he gently cupped your face.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked quietly, his brows knitted in worry. You shook your head, but your eyes were filled with tears, and it felt like something was ripping Joel’s chest apart.

“He pushed me. And I… the glass.”

You lifted your hand and Joel winced when he saw a shard of green glass – from the flower vase which previously stood on the table – embedded in your palm. A trickle of blood was running down your wrist, but he presumed there would be much more once he took it out.

“It’s alright, sweet girl. I’ll take care of it.” I’ll take care of you. “Let’s go to the kitchen so I can patch you up, ‘kay?”

You nodded, letting him pull you to your feet.

Once you made your way there and you instructed him on where some bandages and disinfectant were, Joel gently grabbed your waist and hoisted you up onto the table, seemingly without any problem at all. You blushed when you felt his touch, for a moment forgetting about the pain piercing your palm, but the gravity of what you just experienced crept up on you again soon enough.

Joel noticed your silence as he carefully removed the shard and bandaged your hand. He didn’t want to imagine what exactly happened when he was gone, but it was obvious it shook you quite strongly. So when he saw tears welling in your eyes, he threw all caution to the wind and wrapped his arms tightly around you.

Not one ounce of regret had time to haze his mind over, because you instantly clung to him, too, letting out a shaky exhale. Joel hugged you tightly, letting go of all the tension and fear in his body. He was never this close to you before, and he allowed himself to indulge in the warmth of your body and the feeling of your arms around him, reminding him that you’re okay, that you’re with him now. He breathed in your scent, hiding his nose in the crown of your head and pressing his lips to your hair, hoping to calm you down.

“It’s alright, baby. I’m here, you’re safe now.”

You tensed, but Joel just held you closer, not realizing he said something wrong. He planted a soft kiss on your hairline, sighing when you started moving your hands up and down his back soothingly. Despite standing up, Joel felt relaxed like never before, like he could fall asleep right here and now.

That is, until you spoke up.

“What did you say?”

…shit.

Joel opened his mouth, then closed it almost immediately. His eyes raced wildly across the room, trying to think of what to say, but he didn’t let go of you. There might’ve been a selfish reason behind his inaction, but mostly he didn’t want you to see his flustered face.

“Nothin’,” he answered after a pregnant and rather uncomfortable pause, and cleared his throat. “You don’t wanna… t’was nothin’ important.”

Maybe you really didn’t hear him. It would have saved him a lot of trouble and embarrassment, and probably another two weeks of his life of avoiding you. But judging by the silence in the room, he wasn’t so lucky.

“Did you…” You swallowed before finishing softly, “call me ‘baby’?”

Joel cringed, closing his eyes tightly, and prayed for some higher power to smite him off the surface of the Earth. But again – luck wasn’t on his side.

The silence prolonged, and you finally grew impatient. You pulled away, looking up to scan his face. “Joel?”

“I’m sorry, it… slipped out,” he mumbled, all red and not meeting your eyes. That was a shame, because if he did find the courage to look at you, he would notice a small smile forming on your face as you regarded him.

“So I heard you correctly?” you asked again, and he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face and rubbing his eyes.

“Yes, yes you did. M’really sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’. I just tried to comfort you and– fuck,” he whispered to himself, lowering his hand but still not looking in your direction. “I, I don’t want ya to feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry, I can go…”

“No.” Your uninjured hand shot out and grabbed his shirt before you could process what you were doing. Joel glanced down at your fist clutching the material, and then back up into your wide eyes. “Please, no. Stay.”

His lips parted slightly at your request and unexplained (at least from his perspective) hope filling your gaze. He looked so adorable that you had never wanted to kiss him more than right now.

“Come closer,” you pleaded, barely louder than a whisper.

Joel obliged, letting your hand guide him. You gently pulled him to you, so that he was almost standing between your legs, and your fingers loosened their hold, now smoothing over the material of his shirt.

You took a deep breath and leaned forward, bracing your weight on his chest. Joel looked puzzled by your behavior, but when he realized what you were doing, he stopped you gently by putting his own hand on your shoulder.

“No,” he whispered, his voice full of pain, but steady. “Don’t do that. You… you’re in a state of shock.”

“I know what I want,” you spoke equally quietly, staring at him with nothing but pure genuineness and need in your eyes. “And I want you, Joel.”

“Please, ba–” he cut himself off before he could finish this word. It pained him deeply to reject you, but he knew that if he let you kiss him, you’d regret it later. And that he wouldn’t be able to survive. “I’m sorry, sweet girl, but it wouldn’t be right. I don’t wanna be takin’ advantage of you.”

Your face fell in confusion and disappointment, but you didn’t let him go even when he put a light pressure on your hand.

“You never..” you gulped, searching his face, “thought about it? About… me, in that way?”

Christ, what was he supposed to say to that? He wouldn’t be able to lie to you, not if you kept looking at him with those innocent and full of desire eyes of yours.

“Don’t ask me.” Joel closed his eyes, the muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt your touch on the side of his face. “Please, don’t ask me.”

“Because I have,” you continued in a sudden rush of courage. “I think about you constantly, and about us. Every time I invite you over or see you in the town working... And I’m only saying all that, because I thought maybe… maybe you felt it, too. I think you do.” Joel didn’t answer, and you looked up at him with determination you didn’t really feel. “Tell me.”

Joel clenched his jaw, exhaling heavily, but didn’t pull away. He weighed the options in his mind while you waited patiently, and finally, his resolve cracked under your hopeful gaze.

“I think about you,” he began slowly, earnestly, “every night. Every fuckin’ night and day, sweetheart.” His voice was raspy, but that drawl of his so soft and delicious to your ears. “But I shouldn’t. You and I both know that.”

He still hasn’t looked your way. You tried to lean to the side to fit in his field of vision, but Joel turned away even more, attempting to take a step back. You grabbed his shirt again before he could do that, and he didn’t fight you.

“Why not?” you whispered, transfixed on his handsome features.

“‘Cause you deserve better. I’m way too old for you,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, like you should know it already. “You have so many admirers who are probably much more fit for you, and it would be… it is so wrong that I’m lettin’ those thoughts linger.”

“I don’t want any of them, though.” Joel finally locked eyes with you, but still seemed conflicted. You slowly let go of his clothes and reached for his hands, then guided them to your cheeks. You saw his throat bob nervously when you placed them there and brushed his knuckles with your thumbs. “Look, it’s hard for me to open up, but… I really like you. Really.”

Joel swallowed heavily, his face contorted in pain – as if your words were wounding not only his soul, but his very flesh. Then the pressure on your cheeks became a little stronger, and he tentatively swiped his thumbs under your eyes in a loving manner. Your heart fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings as he slowly scanned your face for any sign of hesitancy, then let his eyelids drop and pressed his forehead to yours. You lifted your chin slightly, nudging his nose with the tip of yours.

“Call me that again,” you whispered pleadingly. His wooden, earthly scent was enveloping all your senses, making you feel so very calm and safe. You’d gladly lose yourself in him. “Please.”

Joel instantly knew what you meant. His resolve was wavering and his body giving in, but the doubt was still there in his mind. The fear that he was somehow reading you wrong.

“Don’t beg me, sweet girl.” His breath was on your lips, beckoning you even closer. “M’too weak for that.”

“Please,” you repeated more urgently, and when he didn’t move, you turned your head and pressed your lips to the inside of his wrist tenderly. “Joel.”

He cursed softly. It appeared that the tension between you both was getting to him, too, and Joel was losing the battle he fought with himself. He lowered his lips to the edge of your jaw, his pupils blown wide and eyelids heavy, almost as if he was under a spell. You whimpered when he withdrew one of his hands on your cheeks, but the loss was quickly replaced by relief when he moved it to the small of your back, pulling you closer and flush against his body.

“You sure about this?” he murmured lowly, making you shiver against him. His nose traveled along your jaw and the column of your neck, then back up until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “I don’t want ya to regret it.”

“I won’t,” you promised. “Please, baby.”

Your plea sent a shiver down his spine. Joel couldn’t hold back anymore, didn’t want to. It was clear you wanted him, and he never was a strong enough man to deny you anything.

Your eyes met, and Joel took a second to get his heart under control. You were so beautiful, and your skin so soft under his touch… He tilted your chin up, barely able to comprehend that all of it was really happening, that it was you who put his hands on yourself. And you wanted him to kiss you.

For fuck’s sake, you begged him to.

All the remaining traces of his self-control evaporated in a heartbeat, and he pulled you in, pressing your body closer before bringing his lips to yours, locking them in a soft kiss.

His mouth molded perfectly to yours, causing you to sigh with relief at the gentle caress. You felt heat pooling in your stomach, and you were glad for sitting down because your weak knees would surely buckle under you in different circumstances. The intensity of the kiss gradually grew until it became so heated that you had to grab a fistful of Joel’s hair on the nape of his neck for support.

At one point, Joel pried your lips away, searching your eyes with concern. You worried that he was having second thoughts, but the longer he looked at you, the more his own irises darkened with lust and insatiable hunger, making your face burn like it was on fire. His clear want and the knowledge that you were the cause of it made you feel powerful, but somehow at the same time completely naked under his gaze.

Without any warning, he dived back in, his wide palm enveloping one side of your face while he tangled the other hand in your hair. He tugged on it, probably a little rougher than he intended, eliciting a needy moan from your chest. You instantly felt embarrassed about your response, but when you tried to pull away, Joel practically growled, not letting you turn away.

“S’alright, baby,” he rasped, trailing hot kisses down your neck, making your breath hitch in your throat. “Keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me.”

You felt dizzy. Like he could make you melt from the tone of his voice alone.

Having his lips on yours felt better than you have ever imagined, and so perfect that you never wanted this moment to end. But one thought kept nagging at you, making it harder and harder to focus, and finally after some time Joel softly drew away. He sent you a soft, almost shy smile.

“What is it, sweetheart? Not havin’ second thoughts, I hope?”

It hit you in that moment that it wasn’t the first time he looked at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. You just never noticed before that he always looked at you this way.

“No, no,” you hurried to reassure him. “Just something… Something I wanted to do for a while.”

He raised his eyebrows playfully. “Somethin’ other than kissin’ your handsome neighbor?”

You clicked your tongue at his unexpected cockiness.

“Not exactly.” Your answer only made him more intrigued, and you grinned. “Indulge me and take a step back.”

Joel squinted suspiciously, but eventually humored you. You bit your lip, feeling giddy at finally having a chance to do something you thought about every time this infuriatingly handsome man was in your house.

His eyes followed the tip of your tongue when it ran across your bottom lip… and you took this moment to hook your thumbs on his tool belt and yank him forward.

Your lips connected again, though it was far from perfect – your teeth clashed together and your noses collided, causing you both to yelp in small pain and discomfort, but you didn’t let go of him. Your joy from this silliness lasted only a couple of seconds, though, because before long Joel started to laugh uncontrollably.

You huffed and tried to kiss him again, but he withdrew out of your reach, wrapping his arms around your waist with a big, goofy smile.

“Get back here.”

“What the hell was that, sweetheart?”

His eyes crinkled in amusement and you felt a bit foolish from what you just did. You turned your gaze down, but Joel lifted your chin with his fingertip, and you couldn’t help but smile, too, when you saw how happy he looked.

“It looked more romantic in my head,” you murmured with an awkward chuckle. “I actually wanted to do it the first time I saw you with that belt on.”

“S’that so?” Joel asked and kissed you briefly again, this time with a hint of hunger he was keeping at bay until now. “You like seein’ me in it?”

“I really, really do,” you whispered, hiding your face in his chest. “I don’t know why, but it look so fucking hot on you…”

“My dirty baby,” Joel purred into your hair. The bright grin on his face only grew when he heard you groaning in embarrassment. “Gimme a kiss.”

You didn’t move, not wanting to face him, so Joel opted to nuzzle the sensitive skin of your neck with his nose. “You’re adorable, y’know that? Don’t get all shy on me now, babygirl.”

A deep sigh escaped your chest and the tension in your shoulders lessened. Joel smirked into the crook of your neck, still planting soft kisses on your skin. His lower back was starting to ache from the position, but there wasn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.

And then all the discomfort in his body was put in the shade when you moaned quietly, pressing yourself against him more and wrapping your arms around Joel’s neck.

“Do you wanna get back to my room?” you asked after a while, and Joel hummed into your skin, now littered with love bites his lips and teeth left in their wake.

“You want me to fix that shelf of yours?” he teased back, making you snort.

“Just wanna cuddle with you. If that’s okay.” You nuzzled into his neck, and added quietly. “I can still feel his touch on me. And I only wanna feel you.”

Though Joel would be more than okay with that, by the sounds you were making and the look you were giving him, he doubted that’s all you’ll be doing. Still, his back hurt like hell and he almost let out a relieved groan at the thought of laying down.

“If you want me, baby. If you want me, then I’m all yours.”

Not a week has passed, and Joel had to get his toolbox out again – this time to fix your broken bed.

Though now he knew exactly what caused the damage.

[juicedaloe]

Mithrun and brain damage

I'm not sure if anyone is interested in this, but I wanted to make a post talking about why I think that Mithrun has brain damage from a traumatic brain injury instead of him being a representation of other neurological disorders or mental illness. I'm not that involved in the dunmesh fandom so I don't know how common this headcanon is, though I've seen a few people mention it here and there.

This is just my own opinion so if you disagree then that's fine. Some of this is just speculation and I can't say what Kui's intentions were. This post isn't meant to be that serious. I just wanted to talk about it and hopefully inform about how brain damage can affect some people in a way that I hope is interesting and relevant.

This will be kind of long because I like to talk so it will be under the cut. Apologies for the length and how much I ramble. Feel free to give input especially if I got anything wrong or if this is too confusing.

Okay let's go

Traumatic brain injury (TBI) is incredibly complex. The long-term effects of a TBI include a wide array of symptoms. Each injury is different, and some people can completely recover rather quickly while others can become permanently disabled, even for seemingly "minor" injuries. What I'll cover here isn't a definitive representation of the experiences of all those who have long-term effects from TBI, nor do I speak for everyone with brain damage.

Here are some long term symptoms relevant to this post:

Alexithymia (inability to process and name emotions)

Inability to process and name physical perceptions

Mood swings and emotional regulation difficulties

Communication difficulties

Social impairment

Apathy about caring for oneself

Lack of motivation

Alexithymia and inability to process physical perceptions

This one is rather obvious. While Mithrun is shown to feel emotions and have physical sensations (for instance, describing his location when he gets lost in the dungeon as "a cold place"), he is also apathetic to how this affects him. This means that his physical and emotional perceptions are reduced in some way. He says that becoming lord of the dungeon will leave someone "empty", showing he is aware of his dulled emotional state.

A good example of this is can be seen here in a bonus comic where he doesn't give much of a reaction to burning his mouth on hot food.

(I love these two a lot, by the way. Pattadol is really under appreciated.)

He is also not able to recognize bodily signals, such as hunger or when he is tired. Despite collapsing from exhaustion and not eating for long periods of time, he still insists he is not tired or hungry.

Mood swings

Mood swings in combination with alexithymia can be an especially disorientating experience. Those who struggle to perceive their own emotions can still feel them even if they don't know how to recognize it.

Individuals with brain injuries often experience drastic mood swings, particularly anger. To those around them, they can appear to go from 0 to 100 in an instant.

This is more speculation/headcanon on my part, as the strongest emotion Mithrun has for most of his appearances is anger. However one could interpret this as being unrelated as he is seeking revenge for a traumatic experience.

Communication difficulties and social impairment

Not only can naming personal experiences be incredibly difficult with a brain injury, but other areas of communication are often affected as well.

Mithrun is not able to set boundaries for himself even if someone is doing something he would not actually want them to do, which can leave him in a vulnerable position.

People with brain injuries can sometimes have a paradoxical experience when it comes to communicating with others. They can go from being very quiet to speaking at length about one topic, seemingly without regard for the importance of each bit of information. (I see it like Newton's first law of motion. It is hard to start speaking and it can be just as hard to stop.)

I really like this aspect of Mithrun's characterization. Usually, he is very quiet because he has no reason to speak. However, once he starts talking he is shown to be overly specific and goes on for long periods of time. Kabru has to spend multiple days figuring out his story.

In a side comic, Kabru tells Mithrun he should condense some of the personal details that Kabru finds irrelevant to the topic of the dungeon.

Mithrun shares many details about himself because his desire not to do so is gone. This mirrors the experience of many people who have brain damage to overshare and not understand how their words will come across to others. Sometimes they say or do things that are insensitive or inappropriate for the situation.

Caring for oneself and motivation

In the dungeon, Mithrun becomes reliant on others for self care. He also seems especially incapable of motivating himself to take care of his body when he is particularly focused on his goals.

In these panels, thus far he had been fairly receptive of Kabru trying to take care of him. However, he could sense that the demon was close and was too focused on that to care to eat.

Refusal of care and treatment is often an effect of traumatic brain injury. This can be for seemingly no reason, even if the person knows that this will help them. Sometimes people will lie about receiving treatment or doing things to take care of themselves, either so they can avoid it or avoid having someone take care of them.

He knows that eating regularly and not pushing himself too much will help him - he's been told multiple times on-screen - but he still has to be continuously told by others to give him that motivation to take care of himself. He's very apathetic to his physical state, even if it seems his only desire is for revenge and he should be doing anything he can to achieve that.

Other things of note

I wasn't sure where to put this, but while Mithrun's sense of direction is speculated by Kabru to be left over from his time as lord of an ever-changing, confusing dungeon, having poor sense of direction in the way he does could also be indicative of brain injury as well.

While the dungeon is confusing and illogical, he is known to have a poor sense of direction and to get frequently lost by those around him, even trying to exit an entrance he just came through. He is shown to be very intelligent, but memory is greatly impacted by brain injuries which affects a person's sense of direction and location.

Something that really stands out to me about Mithrun is how much the things that help him are particularly helpful to those with brain damage. He is physically capable of performing tasks, but he needs an outside source to remind him and get him started. He relies entirely on routine, and when that regularity is taken away he shows extreme difficulty taking care of himself.

Sometimes, the care that some people need is simply someone else to encourage them or to tell them when to do things. The care that he needs is pretty consistent with a person with a brain injury who does not need a full time caretaker and would prefer to have some independence.

Also, healing magic is specified to not work with brain injury unless the person is killed and revived. Mithrun had not been revived after his injuries, so it is entirely possible for him to have sustained a TBI. I don't think this matters that much because one is still allowed to have headcanons even if there is a magical explanation or isn't really possible in canon, but I thought it was an interesting detail.

In conclusion

Because of all this I don't believe that his lack of self care is due solely to mental illness. While mental illnesses like depression or PTSD can cause a decline in self care, the reasons why the affected individual is avoidant of these tasks differs. These disorders can also cause cognitive difficulties and emotional regulation issues, but not to the same extent or in the same way that brain damage would. I think that he does have both depression and PTSD (both are common after a TBI) but those are not his only disabilities.

And on a personal note, I just think that having a character with brain damage is really cool. Most of the time I've seen it the characters are not given very much respect and they are treated as comic relief and a joke. Regardless of whether you agree with this post or not, it is still nice to see a character with a disability like this.

Thank you if you read all of this. I hope it was easy to understand and I did not ramble too much. I don't have anything else to say but I've been wanting to write this out for a while.

Okay bye

[shepscapades]

looking through your docsuma tag.....love them. wish they had one more combined braincell so they could realize their feelings

HERE'S THE THING THOUGH OKAY the problem is actually that they're both too smart about their feelings. you've got me down a horrible rabbit hole okay let me do my best to explain without being a freak(reading this back over, i failed <3).

Xisuma takes longer to realize, first of all. He's got so much to deal with coming out of s8 and through the beginning of s9 that quite frankly he's really just grateful to have another friend he can count on and trust, and he's so consumed by getting the androids back in working order on top of his actual season 9 plans (on top of Cleo shoving self care down his throat and demanding that he make a better habit of taking breaks and taking care of himself, which takes a LONG time to adjust to, if it can be argued that he ever does) that he doesn't really realize he's developed feelings for Doc until his heart beats him over the head with it randomly one day. Probably sometime in S10. Even then, because of said busy-ness, I think Xisuma has a very hard time getting over the meta-ness of a creator developing feelings for his creation and the selfishness of that reality amidst all of his other responsibilities, and he is likely too scared/overwhelmed to entertain the thought of the feelings themselves, much less the likelihood of reciprocation or the fantasy of a relationship.

Doc, on the other hand, realizes he is developing feelings for Xisuma kind of steadily throughout the course of s9, since that's when they start spending so much more time together in the lab working on androids and improving android tech. As a general statement, Doc is very aware of himself, all of the time. His awareness of the self is very important to his sense of normalcy and control, so any time he experiences a new emotion, he notes it, logs it.

So, while he's very aware of the feelings he's developing as they happen, he doesn't quite put a name to it/realize what it actually is until he talks to Tango and Etho, funnily enough--It's definitely one of those moments where Tango or Etho or whomever are explaining their struggles with the physical manifestations of their... idk, lovesickness-- ie, thirium pump rate irregularities, temperature fluctuations, influxes of feelings they've described as a combination of longing, affection, want, happiness, yearning... and Doc, as the unbiased third party to put 2 and 2 together, explains to them that those are obvious signs of romantic attraction, only very belatedly realizing several hours later that those are the exact symptoms he hasn't quite been able to put a name to. Naturally he's exceptional about being quiet about this realization until he slips up during a maintenance check-in with Tango sometime after, who is not doing well in s9, and Tango (mid romance-ranting) catches the passing of a wistful expression on Doc's face and calls him out for "totally thinking about someone right now" (Teasing aside, tango promises to keep Doc's secret).

So, despite knowing well his feelings before X ever develops his own, Doc is actually very, very careful about them-- He knows more than anyone else how busy Xisuma is. He knows how stressed X is. He also knows Xisuma seems to be more knowledgeable when it comes to emotions and feelings, and despite the clear signs that Xisuma shows interest(?) in him as well, Doc can only assume there is a good reason nothing romantic has happened between them-- he trusts Xisuma more than anything, and he--firmly-- will not breach this trust by acting on something Xisuma does not seem to be ready for (or does not seem to want yet(yet?)). Therefore, Doc is patient, and even though as Season 10 develops and Doc becomes aware of the likelihood that Xisuma could return the feelings, he trusts Xisuma's emotional intuition more than anything. He, painfully, recognizes Xisuma's discomfort (or hesitation), concludes that there must be a missing variable in this equation he cannot grasp, and decides to let Xisuma lead because of it. He will not push farther than he feels Xisuma has.

It's definitely one of those "fell first" "fell harder" type situations I think. I'm normal about them. can you tell

[nekropsii]

ALPHA TROLLS RANKED BY HOW WRONG THE FANDOM AT LARGE IS ABOUT THEM:

This is a personal challenge, based entirely on my own experience and perspective, and also ranked from Most to Least Correct. I was bored, and thought this might be fun.

Putting this under a cut, because it's long as hell.

MEULIN LEIJON

People get her mostly correct, from what I’ve seen… Most of the time, fan content of Meulin is absolutely recognizable as Meulin, but her pride in her deafness + joy of learning new ways to interact with the world through/due to her disability is always removed, and I do not often see people tackle the Toxic Positivity aspect of her character. That seems less like character assassination, though, and more like a combination of people not actually playing through the Openbounds, people not being able to fathom disabled people (especially those who gained a disability later in life rather than being born disabled) being happy, and general fandom distaste for the idea of touching anything uncomfortable, especially when that uncomfortable topic is highly mundane, normalized, and potentially applicable to them or their loved ones. Meulin’s toxic positivity was, of course, commentary on Tumblr’s ecosystem at the time, so… It was much harder to touch back then.

ARANEA SERKET

People tend to get her general, broad strokes personality right, but unfortunately she gets treated pretty roughly for the crime of Being A Serket. People refuse to understand her motivations, and she often gets demonized for what she was doing around/during [S] Game Over, even though that was something she’d gotten pushed to and also was cool as fuck to watch. God forbid a woman do anything.

DAMARA MEGIDO

People are right about the racism, 100%. It is completely despicable, hard to look at, and extremely blatant. She does, however, have character outside of that. No, it isn’t “whore”, it’s more like “angry, dysfunctional abuse victim”, and she’s genuinely a very interesting and tragic character. But, again, people are right about the racism, so she gets to be placed way up here.

MEENAH PEIXES

She is such a chaotic little bastard. I love her. I really do. Please understand that she genuinely does not understand the concept of consequences. This girl didn’t have a Lusus, she didn’t have parents, it was functionally illegal to tell her “No, you can’t do that.” That would fuck up literally anyone’s moral compass. That’s not me hand waving away all the fucked up and bad shit she’s done, we all know what she did, but people tend to forget this aspect of her character and it pains me deeply, because it is a very genuinely interesting concept that I want to see more of. She’s capable of regret, we’ve seen her feel it, I just don’t think foresight is her forte. No one raised her to consider consequences, or help her experience them in a healthy way, because nobody raised her period.

Also, her ass is not butch, she is the girliest girl in the entire comic. She is about hot pink and glitter and kiss marks and unicorns and cute little puns and you will respect that. She is not masculine. Her ass is not masculine nor is she butch. Let her be her hyper-feminine self.

LATULA PYROPE

Please for the love of god there is more to her character than “Gamer Girl” and “Mituna’s Girlfriend”. You are falling for her fucking ruse. Please. Please. Please recognize that her entire character is about internalized misogyny, and being forced to overcompensate for misogyny in gaming circles as a gamer who happens to be a woman. Please. I’m begging.

KURLOZ MAKARA

His character is not that deep, it’s mostly just a string of events he is mysteriously, inexplicably involved with. The Makaras are extremely Function Over Form- their characters practically do not exist, they're mostly just plot devices that exist to push the story along. I'm sorry to Makara fans. You just invented a guy in your mind and decided he was real. He is also not that soft, though, and his relationships with both Meulin AND Mituna are not healthy. Hard to stop people from ascribing cutesy squishy lovey dynamics to random men who happened to have looked at each other once, though. Some people truly haven't graduated from 2012.

HORUSS ZAHHAK

I am begging people to consider that maybe the biggest issue here is not that he is “Bad Otherkin/Therian Representation” and is in fact maybe the fact that Hussie was actually making fun of Systems when he was writing Horuss. Because Horuss is canonically a system. He uses the word system. He uses the word switching. He uses the word host. He literally talks about his Plurality at length in extremely upfront, plain terms. I don’t know how him being “Bad Otherkin Representation” was and still is the main discourse about him. It makes me insane. That is a commentary that truly writes itself. Talk about having your priorities out of wack, honestly...

PORRIM MARYAM

No, she is not a MRA, she’s just a regular feminist who happens to live on a different planet with different politics and social hierarchies from Our Real World Earth’s USA. Whatever argument you’re about to pull out of your ass to say that she sucks is bad. She already explained what she meant by that, in more detail, very clearly, and she was right. Half the time she’s literally just giving you factual information about what Beforus was like, and literal plot synopses. She isn’t saying anything insane. She’s literally normal. I don’t know why people cannot handle or process this. Porrim has not ever said anything controversial. If you disagree with this you’re either misconstruing her on purpose or you fell for Kankri’s bait, and that’s just fucking sad at that point.

Also, she’s more than a sex object, and her tits are not huge. Honestly, half the shit she was saying was just “I am more than my sex life”, and so many people took that and made her main character trait her sex life. Just pathetic.

RUFIOH NITRAM

This man is a fucking war criminal and I will stop at nothing until he is behind bars for his crimes against Damara. Raging misogynist. Total fucking cunt. Just the worst. If I talk any more about this, this part will be 1,000 paragraphs long. But also, I’m begging people to recognize his relationship with disability, too. He was similar to Meulin in the sense that he didn’t mind his disability, and his biggest gripe with it was the way that Horuss tried to “fix” it… Which is an interesting way to expand upon how Beforus’s culling system is not only very explicitly ableist, but mimicking real world systemic ableism. I also want people to recognize that Hussie is actively having a conversation about the reclamation of slurs with Rufioh’s character, and how not letting people reclaim such language is doing nothing but giving the word power against them while stripping away their own personal agency. Rufioh’s a complicated guy, and he’s interesting and also the worst, and I am really tired of how he gets watered down to nothing but “Pretty Boy Victim Of His Inexplicably Psycho Ex”.

MITUNA CAPTOR

Holy Fucking Shit, You Guys Are Ableist.

KANKRI VANTAS

To this day I see people saying he was just Hussie making fun of SJWs. To this day. To this day people think Hussie was trying to make Every Tumblr Leftist look bad, and that he hates them Because They Are Leftists. When will people recognize him as a bootlicker to the oppressive class and the violently bigoted. When will people recognize that. When will people recognize that this is more of a commentary on the legitimate real flaws of Tumblr’s politics at the time. When. When.

When will people stop portraying him as a lovey-dovey Catholic Whore. I’m going to stab my fucking eyes out and then kill everyone in this building. Me when it's based and cool to ship an aroace character with a sexual predator. I GUESS.

CRONUS AMPORA

I say this with every ounce of sincerity I can possibly muster as a person: What the literal actual fuck.

[psuedosugu]

Ohhhh my golly I saw your Vox x daughter reader an it got me thinking now HEAR ME OUT….what if reader got bored on day an just went for a walk and somehow came across Alastor, now let’s say Alastor’s a lil confused like he never knew Vox had a daughter and readers like *sad sigh* “I’d be surprised if anyone knew” an Alastors all fatherly to her at first it was to get dirt on Vox without reader realizing but in the end he just liked hanging out with her. Eventually Vox noticed how his daughter is gone half the time but reader just convinces her dad that she’s always home and how HES the one always away. Change the ending how you see fit or do whatever you like but UGH I love your writing stay hydrated and eat wellll🩵

assjjjkkj thank youuu the amount of feedback ive gotten on this acc that ive only been posting on for like 3 days is insane, anyways this is such an interesting idea omgee

cw: reader having some emotionally absent daddy issues

fem reader

pt 1 here

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

͙͘͡★ || so you had just gone out on an innocent walk, right?

͙͘͡★ || well, technically snuck out since your dad doesn’t like you going out by yourself.

͙͘͡★ || theres bad people out there! what if you got kidnapped or something?

͙͘͡★ || no one recognizes you, of course, since he doesn’t really talk about you let alone shows you to the public.

͙͘͡★ || you appreciate him for that, you guess, it must be annoying to not be able to go anywhere without a bunch of microphones in your face.

͙͘͡★ || you just wish he was around more! he barely makes any time for you and yeah, his work is super important and time consuming but you’re his daughter!

͙͘͡★ || lost in thought, you bump into a dude in the sidewalk.

͙͘͡★ || “whoops! excuse me, ma’am!”, he says in a weird, static-ish voice.

͙͘͡★ || your skeleton almost jumps out of your skin when you look up.

͙͘͡★ || the radio demon, the guy that your dad has had beef with since you were little

͙͘͡★ || you just stare at him with a “ :o “ look on your face, not knowing if you should run or not.

“little girl, are you, um, alright?” he stares down at you, slightly confused.

“im…uhhh…im okay!”

“you’ve heard of me, i suppose.”

“i guess…. my dad doesn’t really like you.”

“and who might your father be, hm?”

“yk the tv dude? the one thats, like, everywhere? yeah, that him.”

“hmm…interesting…i wasn’t aware he had a daughter…”

“well, he doesn’t really talk about…..”

͙͘͡★ || at this point you stop blabbing mid sentence, realizing you probably shouldn’t have said all of that to his sworn enemy.

͙͘͡★ || what if he does kidnap you and holds you for ransom?

͙͘͡★ || but he doesn’t do that, surprisingly.

͙͘͡★ || he asks you why you’re out alone so late and you shrug, saying that your dad wasn’t really there to stop you.

͙͘͡★ || you were naive and alastor was planning to use that to his advantage, not to hurt you, but to hurt vox.

͙͘͡★ || what would he think when he found out that his own daughter was buddy-buddy with his sworn enemy?

͙͘͡★ || he’d feel like a failure of a father, and thats what alastor wanted, to get under his skin.

͙͘͡★ || you guys walked while you told him everything, about him being away all the time, about you feeling lonely, while he nodded along

͙͘͡★ || you guys even stopped at one of those old timey bar places and bought you a milkshake!

͙͘͡★ || eventually you headed home, your dad hadn’t noticed you had been gone which figures.

͙͘͡★ || this became routine, you hung out with alastor and he gave you advice and stuff. you thought that if he had an ulterior motive it would’ve shown itself by now but no, it hadn’t.

͙͘͡★ || alastor himself had started to forget why he had even started all of this. he found himself enjoying your company and actually caring about you.

͙͘͡★ || after a while vox started to notice that he’s been seeing you less than he usually does.

͙͘͡★ || i mean, the tower is big but cmon! there were days where he would barely see you at all! where were you going?

͙͘͡★ || he confronted you about it at dinner one day.

“[name], dearest, i cant help but notice that i haven’t been seeing you around much lately. what’ve you been up to?”

͙͘͡★ || you pause, looking up from your food.

“i, um, dont know what you’re talking about.”

͙͘͡★ || he furrows his (virtual) eyebrows.

“is that so?”

“mhm!”

͙͘͡★ || vox is reasonably skeptical and resorts to spying on you through your smartwatch because of course you have a voxtech branded smartwatch!

͙͘͡★ || hes absolutely livid when he finds out who you’ve been sneaking out to be with and he’s waiting for you when you get home.

͙͘͡★ || you’re indefinitely grounded until he says so and he starts tracking where you go in the tower.

͙͘͡★ || he knows that its a violation of privacy and stuff but dont you see that he’s trying to protect you? alastor is dangerous! he doesn’t get how you didn’t see it earlier.

͙͘͡★ || alastor does succeed on what he set out to do, though. vox is distraught, feeling like a horrible father. he even vents to valentino about it out of all the people!

“-i mean, what kind of father doesn’t even notice their own child sneaking out in broad daylight every day? i should’ve paid more attention to her, im a failure!”

“mhm….yeah….”

͙͘͡★ || val obviously doesn’t give a shit.

͙͘͡★ || after not bumping into you for a while and seeing the up in vox slandering him online, alastor figures what happened.

͙͘͡★ || he’s glad that he succeeded in his mission to bother vox further but does miss talking to you.

͙͘͡★ || vox does vow to make more time for you and be a more attentive dad, so i guess some good comes out of this.

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

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[enhas-pov]

Hey i was asking if u could make heeseung “My stalker “, can u add like second boy lead like jake so it be more interesting more LIKE ADD JAKE LIKE HES YN’S EX HE CAME BACK SO IT BE MORE INTERESTING LIKE HEESEUNG GETS JEALOUS HELPPP 😭 (sorry if it’s bad idea i sucks at it 😭🙏🏻)

my stalker pt.2

summary: after heeseung successfully kidnapped reader, he practically owns her now. after being stuck in heeseung’s home for a while, he finally lets her go out with him. but what happens when they stumble upon reader’s ex boyfriend, jake?

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, kidnapping, torture, crying, blood, gore, yandere, obsessive behavior, jealousy issues, (and probably more)

word count: 5.8k

note: thank u for the idea😭 i was stuck on what to make part 2 about, but i hope u like it!! (‼️i’ve also not read through it, so ignore any mistakes‼️)

pt.1

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i don’t know how long he’s held me captive for. i’ve been in here for what feels like years, but it’s probably just been a few days. he’s been coming in and out with food and a change of clothes. i have to change in front of him every time which makes me feel disgusted. he hasn’t told me his name, i don’t know his age, i don’t know how he knows all of these things about me, he’s still a complete stranger in my eyes. if he’s gonna keep me all to himself, i might as well be able to go around freely around his home right? i can’t be stuck in this basement forever. i need to convince him to let me out of here.

“sorry for late dinner. i was busy” he walked in holding a plate filled with food in his hands. he sat down next to me and placed the meal in my lap. he also sits down with me until i’m finished eating, i guess that’s kinda nice of him. in my opinion it’s better than being all alone. “can i ask you something..?” i ask nervously. he hums in response while he looks at me. “can you-“ i pause as i felt scared to ask him to let me out, what if he’ll start going mad? “don’t stop on my account. go on” i felt his hand sliding over my thigh making me even more nervous. “can you let me out of here? ..please” i could feel his eyes on me even tho i had my head lowered. “remember what i told you?” “unfortunately, i can’t trust you yet. you’ll still have to stay down here until i can” “you can trust me. please, i don’t like being here all by myself” i heard him sigh before he got back up on his feet. “sorry pretty. no can do” “but-“ “___.” the sound of his voice when he said my name, it sounded like a warning. i kept quiet as he made his way out, but he stopped at the sound of my voice again. “can i at least take a bath? i feel dirty..” he turned back around and i expected him to start yelling at me for talking again, but he actually agreed to it? “fine.. get up” i quickly stood up and walked over to him. he placed his hand in mine as he lead me out of the basement. the second we walked upstairs my eyes went straight to the windows. finally seeing daylight after being locked up for a few days felt amazing. all though, i couldn’t recognize where we were. i could see a field and that was it. when we reached the bathroom, i didn’t expect him to close the door behind him. was he gonna watch me take a bath? he’s weirder than i thought.. “are you staying?” i asked him. you could hear how nervous i was at the sound of my voice. “uhuh” i watched him cross his arms and lean against the sink. “can’t risk anything. who knows? you could try to drown yourself or maybe even jump out of that window” he said, his finger pointing at the window next to the bathtub. “i wouldn’t do that” did he really think i was gonna try and kill myself? “enough chit chatting. get undressed” he suddenly said. he was still stood watching me, it made me slightly uncomfortable. i didn’t want to get naked in front of him. “could you- can you turn around, please..?” he looked me up and down before slowly turning around, i sighed in relief when he did. i started with removing my top along with my bra and then my sweatpants along with my underwear. i sat myself down in the bathtub and immediately loved the feeling of the warm water against my skin, i had forgotten how much i missed it.

when he heard my body touch the water, he turned back around to face me. i looked up and saw him eyeing my body. he couldn’t see much since i had covered my chest with my hands and closed my legs. it was completely silent, he wasn’t saying anything and neither was i. i wanted to know more about him but i was afraid to ask. should i? the worst thing he can say is no, right? “i never got your name” i say, breaking the silence. he eyes left my body as he was now making eye contact. “why do you wanna know my name, pretty?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “i’m gonna stay here with you.. right?” he nodded, “that’s the plan” “then, i’d like to know who i’m staying with” how long would i be staying with him for tho? weeks? months? years? “i guess not knowing my name would be kinda weird. since, you know.. you’ll be staying with me forever” forever? i’m gonna be trapped in this hell hole forever? no, i refuse. i don’t even know this guy. he seems like a creep and- “heeseung” huh? “lee heeseung” heeseung. so that’s what his name is. “heeseung.. lee heeseung.. hee.. seung-“ “what are you doing?” he asked by cutting me off. “i just.. you call me pretty a lot and so- i just thought that maybe i’d.. make a nickname for you as well?” i stuttered which made a smile appear on his face. it was softer than usual. “cute” was all he said. “so what’s my nickname?” i went back to thinking of one, “maybe.. seungie?” i heard him chuckle before he shook his head. “do you not like it? i can make up a new one-“ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “no, no. i like it” i watched him grab a towel and walk towards me with it. he turned his head, looking away from me while he held the towel out for me to grab. i stood up with water dripping from my body as i grabbed the towel out of his hand. i wrapped it around my body and stepped out of the bathtub. i brought my hand up and tapped on his shoulder, signaling for him to turn around. once he did, his eyes didn’t go straight to my body this time. maybe he wasn’t that much of a pervert as i thought. he grabbed my by my hand and walked me out of the bathroom and lead me all the way over to his bedroom. his room was huge, he even had a king sized bed. he handed me a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. “i should probably get you some new underwear..” he said while scratching the back of his neck. “this is okay for now” i reassured him. “thank you, seungie” he smiled before turning around again so that i could change into the pair of clothes he gave me. i started changing after the towel fell off my body and dropped onto the floor.

“we can try” he said out of nowhere. “what?” i asked, watching him turn around to look at me again. “you can stay up here. you’ll sleep in the same bed as me and you get to walk around the house freely” was he serious? all i wanted was to not be in that basement. i swear i’ve never been happier. “really? thank you-“ i was happy and excited until he suddenly stopped me. he placed his hand at the back of my head and pushed my face closer to his. “if you ever try to run away from me, ___. i’ll lock you in that basement forever. got it?” the fear that i didn’t notice had disappeared came right back at that moment. his words scared me, the way his voice sounded, it made me feel unsafe. i nodded slightly at his words as i was too scared to talk back to him. he smiled, patting my head before he took a few steps back. “i want you to know that i have cameras in every corner of this house, in case you were thinking of running away while i’m gone” the thought of running away actually hadn’t crossed my mind. i wouldn’t try to anyway, i’m too scared of what he’ll do to me. but what did he mean by when he’s gone? “while you’re gone?” i asked him with my eyebrows furrowed. “i usually leave the house everyday to go back to town” i knew it. when i looked out the window i wasn’t familiar with where we were. “how long does it take to get to town?” he looked at me in silence for a while, like he was debating on whether to tell me or not. “about an hour” he says. an hour? he definitely thought this through. even if i planned on escaping, there’s no chance i’d get home to safety in time before heeseung would get to me first. “get in bed. i’ll be right with you” i watched him walk out through the door and i was left alone in his bedroom. i sat myself down on his bed before moving the blanket to the side and pulling it over my body, placing my head down on the pillow after. i think the reason to why heeseung suddenly changed his mind about me not having to stay in the basement, was because i gained a little bit of his trust. if i continue being nice to him and follow his rules maybe there’s a chance i could leave the house one day. maybe i could go back to town and see my mom again, maybe even ningning? i was lost in my thoughts, but brought back quickly when i felt heeseung wrap his arms around my waist. i felt his bare chest against my back and his hot breath fanning over my neck. for some reason, the feeling was comforting. i didn’t feel scared.. i actually felt kinda safe in his arms.

i woke up the next day expecting heeseung to be asleep next to me, but to my surprise he wasn’t. i was confused, but i didn’t stress much about it since i had slept so good. i was sleeping on a hard cold floor for the past few days, finally sleeping in a bed was all i needed. i sat myself up and stretched my arms out in the air. i was about to get up before i noticed a note on the bedside table. did heeseung write it? i reached out, grabbing the note before i started reading it. “i’ve left to go back to town. i’ll be back soon, but in the meantime i expect you to be good. think of it as a test. i’ll be grading you based on the choices you make while i’m gone. i’ve also left something out for you in the kitchen” a test? he’ll be grading me? as long as i don’t try to leave everything will be fine, right? i placed the note back on the bedside table before i got up from bed, making my way over to the kitchen. i stopped in my tracks once i had entered the kitchen. i was surprised at what i saw, pancakes on a plate and a bowl of strawberries with a glass of orange juice. did he really prepare breakfast for me? i smiled before i took a seat and got right into eating. i was starving, so i couldn’t help myself. i mostly spent the rest of the day looking around the house. and i’m not gonna lie, looking through the windows made wanting to escape very tempting, but i didn’t take the chance.

what ___ didn’t know was that heeseung didn’t leave to go back to town, he was sat in his car parked not too far down the road. what was he doing? he was watching her every move through the cameras he had told her about. he wanted to know if he really could trust her, and maybe he actually could. he watched her wake up and eat the breakfast he prepared for her. she walked around the house, looked at a few stuff which didn’t bother heeseung at all. he noticed how she would stop by every window she walked past, and for a second there he thought she was planning on escaping, but she was just stood there looking out the window. he thought she’d at least open it for the fresh air, but she didn’t, and he slowly started gaining more trust for her. what heeseung couldn’t stop thinking about was last night, when ___ fell asleep. his hands would travel up and down her body, god knows how many times. he loved the feeling of his hands against her soft skin. but what heeseung couldn’t stop thinking of the most was when she would rub her ass against his bulge. he’d groan every time she did, but quite enough so he wouldn’t wake her. heeseung wanted to pull his dick out and start fucking her from behind in her sleep right there, but he managed to stop himself from doing so.

i was sat on the couch while some random movie was playing on the tv. i kept on looking at the clock as i watched the time pass by, when will heeseung come back? what a coincidence. right as i was thinking about him, i heard the front door unlock and i saw him walk in. he took his jacket off, placing it on the standing rack before he took his shoes off while i watched him patiently. he walked over to the couch where i was sat, he stood over me and looked down. i looked back up at him which made me kinda nervous since he was just standing there without saying a word. he brought his hand up next to my face and placed a strand of hair behind my ear. i gave him a small smile, he bit his lip in response. “i got you something, since you were a good girl and listened to me” he said and that’s when i noticed he was holding a jewelry box in his other hand. he sat down next to me on the couch before he placed it in my lap. at first, i thought it was the necklace he had given me that i threw away, but to my surprise it wasn’t. the second i opened it i felt tears start forming in my eyes. “how’d you get this..?” it was a necklace of mine that i lost a long time ago. it was from my mom, she gave it to me when i was a little girl and now that i’m seeing it again it’s only making me emotional. “i have my ways” he grabbed the necklace out of the jewelry box, moving my hair to the side before he helped me put it on. “thank you, seungie” my voice cracked due to the fact that i was literally about to start crying, i missed my mom. heeseung noticed i was getting upset and he seemed to actually care. “hey, don’t cry. you’re okay” i felt his hand stroking my thigh. i think he was trying to comfort me? “i want to see my mom..” i lowered my head as tears began rolling down my cheek. i only heard him let out a big sigh. he leaned back against the couch, running his hand through his hair. “___. you know i can’t allow that” he moved his hand away from my thigh and placed it on my back instead. he sat there with his leg bouncing while he was listening to my quiet sobs. “alright. listen, i’ll take you out tomorrow, yeah?” i lifted my head up, turning around to face him. “r-really..?” he cupped my face with both of his hands, wiping my tears away with his thumbs. “anything to make you happy, pretty” i took a moment to admire his features. he wasn’t bad after all, he was pretty attractive i’ll admit. but there was something about him that made me want to just.. without thinking straight, my lips were suddenly on his. i could tell he was shocked but it didn’t take long for him to start kissing me back. my hands were on his chest while his was still cupping my face. i was quick to pull away, why did i do that? “i’m sorry.. i don’t- i don’t know why i did ⠀ ⠀ that..-“ he shook his head at my words. “shh, don’t apologize” he started stroking my hair and i couldn’t help but to feel comfortable with him.

it was the next day and i was extremely excited to finally be able to leave the house. i was wearing the same clothes i wore the day heeseung took me, he had washed them for me to wear and told me he’d get me new clothes, which was nice of him. heeseung also didn’t want to leave during the daytime, he thought it’d be risky so now that it’s dark out we’re finally leaving. “you ready?” he asked me. “mhm!” he took my hand, leading me out through the front door. the second the fresh air hit me, i felt like i was alive again. he walked me to his car and opened the door for me. i got in, put my seatbelt on and so did he. heeseung was right, we had been driving for almost an hour now and during the whole ride the only thing i saw out the window were fields. i closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the seat “how long until we get there?” i asked him. “open your eyes, pretty” when i opened my eyes i looked around to see that we were finally back in town, i swear i had just closed my eyes a second ago. i wasn’t surprised when i barley saw anyone, it was late at night after all. he stopped by a convenience store before he parked the car. i was about to take my seatbelt off before he stopped me. “did i say you could get out of the car?” he said, his hand grabbing my hand that attempted to unbuckle the seatbelt. “i just thought that-“ “you’re lucky i even let you come all the way out here with me, i thought you appreciated it?” he raised his eyebrows at me, cocking his head to the side. “no, i do- i appreciate it..” i removed my hand from the seatbelt, leaning back into my seat. “good. stay here until i get back, got it?” he gripped at my chin which forced me to look at him eye to eye. i gave him a nod before he let go and got out of the car. i watched him walk into the convenience store as i was sat waiting for him to get back. was he at least gonna get me something? i should’ve asked for chocolate milk.. actually, i haven’t had sprite in a while- “___?” i jumped at the sound of knocking on the car window right next to me. who was that?

i cursed to myself when i took a closer look at the guy standing outside of heeseung’s car. “fuck.. is that jake?” jake is my ex boyfriend, i dated him for 1 year before he broke up with me. i’m not sure why he did.. i kept on waving my hand for him to leave, i didn’t want heeseung to see him trying to talk to me. “go away!” i whisper yelled at him. “what?” this guy i swear to god. i opened the door which accidentally hit him in his forehead. i closed the door behind me once i had gotten out of the car, jake mumbled an “ouch” while rubbing his forehead. “i told you to go away! are you deaf?” i tried to be quiet knowing heeseung could come out of the convenience store any second now. “where have you been? everyone’s been looking for you. i was worried” he was? i expected people to be looking for me, but i didn’t think he’d be worried about me. “i was-“ “___. i told you to stay in the car, didn’t i?” shit.. the sound of heeseung’s voice came from behind me. i felt his chest against my back as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “jake” he said. “heeseung..” do they know each other or something? “so, you left town to be with heeseung..?” jake asked me. he looked confused and weirded out, which i didn’t understand why. “i-“ i felt heeseung squeeze my hip, i don’t think he wants me to talk.. “mind your business, sim” heeseung said glaring at him. “she can talk for herself” jake said glaring right back at heeseung. what was happening? “___. let me take you home” he attempted to grab me by my arm, but heeseung slapped his hand away. “don’t fucking touch her” he warned him. “she’s not your bitch man. come on-“ the second time heeseung tried grabbing my arm, heeseung pushed me to the side and unexpectedly he threw a punch at jake. i gasped at the sudden attack, why would he do that? “heeseung!” jake was already on the ground after the first punch, it didn’t help when heeseung kept on punching him repeatedly. “please stop! seungie..?” he stopped with his fist in the air, looking down at jake. “get in the car” he growled. “but-“ he got up so fast i didn’t even have the time to process it. he grabbed me harshly by my arms and looked me dead in the eye. “i said, get in the fucking car. now” the grip he had on my arms were so strong that i thought it’d leave a bruise. without saying a word, i opened the car door and got in quickly. my heart was racing at the way he had me so scared. i heard him open the trunk, and when i looked out the window i noticed how jake’s body was gone. was heeseung..? oh god. jake wasn’t dead was he? why else would heeseung place him in the trunk? i should’ve never opened the door for jake, this is all my fault. i flinched when heeseung slammed the door open, getting in the car before slamming the door shut again. “you’re gonna fucking regret this” he mumbled loud enough for me to hear. what did he mean by that..?

“please- seungie- i’m sorry.. i didn’t mean to-“ i whimpered when my body hit the cold hard floor. i was back in the basement again, this wasn’t that i wanted. i didn’t even say anything to jake about heeseung, i didn’t even get the chance to tell him anything at all. heeseung took a good look at me before he slammed the door shut, locking me inside. i was all by myself and i hated it, there’s no way i’d gain his trust again. i felt my eyes slowly start closing by themselves, and before i knew it i was out of it.

meanwhile, heeseung had jake tied up in a chair while he was torturing him. heeseung hated jake. they used to be best friends, and jake knew about heeseung’s big crush on ___, but that didn’t stop him from dating her. all heeseung felt was rage, he wanted to just kill jake, but that would be too easy. he watched blood drip down his body as he cut him up. jake’s screams were muffled by the tape covering his mouth. “i told you to stay away from her. she’s mine” heeseung said, leaning down near jake’s tear stained face. “i’m gonna make this worse than death for you”

“wake up pretty..” huh? i struggled to open my eyes, had i just passed out? my back was hurting a lot, and so was the back of my head. when i finally opened my eyes, i saw heeseung towering over me. i reacted and sat up quickly, moving away from him. “don’t tell me you’re scared of me again. i thought you had warmed up to me? you know, since you kissed me and all” he said, crouching down in front of me. “w-what did you do.. to jake..?” i asked him, barley even able to get my words out properly. “what did i do to jake.. i don’t know. would you like to see for yourself?” he reached his hand out for me to grab as he smiled creepily down at me. i wanted to know if jake was okay, so i placed my shaky hand in his, letting him help me up and lead me out of the basement. he brought me to this room i had never seen before, i wonder how i missed it. he paused in front of the closed door before he turned to me. “i can tell you’re scared already, and i wouldn’t want to scare you even more. prepare yourself for what you’re about to see, pretty” i furrowed my eyebrows, watching him slowly open the door. heeseung let me walk in first, and the second i stepped foot in that room i looked back right away. i covered my mouth in disgust at what i had just seen. “oh my fucking god..” i mumbled to myself. heeseung ran his hands up and down my back as i practically hid my face in his chest. “told you” he said. “look at him again” he leaned down and whispered in my ear. i shook my head, feeling like i was about to throw up. “i can’t.. i- i feel sick” i said with my face still hid in his chest. “you feel sick?” he chuckled. there was blood everywhere. jake had been cut up and his wounds were so bad and graphic it made me sick to my stomach. “please.. seungie- he needs to go to a hospital” i said, looking up at heeseung who was already looking down at me. “you mean to tell me that you want him to live? after he dumped you? after he stole you from me?” he was getting angry, i could tell. “no- just, please.. i won’t do anything like that ever again, i promise. i don’t need to leave the house, i can stay in the basement, just don’t let him die- please, seungie. i don’t care because it’s jake-“ “then why do you care?” i didn’t even know what i was saying, i just kept on begging and begging without thinking. “if he dies then.. it’ll be in your hands. i don’t want them to take you away from me..” did i really mean that? i don’t know. i just needed jake to get out of here and go to a hospital. heeseung didn’t say anything, he just looked at me like he was processing what i had just said. he walked past me and made his way over to jake. i wanted to look back, but i didn’t want to see jake again. “if you tell anyone about this. i will find you and fucking kill you” i heard heeseung tell him. “pretty, will you leave the room for just a second?” he didn’t have to ask me twice, i left the room as fast as i could, leaving heeseung and jake alone. was he gonna let jake go? was he gonna kill him? was he gonna continue torturing him? i didn’t know what to think.

it had been about 30 minutes and i was anxiously sitting on heeseung’s bed. i kept on bouncing my leg as i waited and waited until i finally heard the door opening. “seungie..?” he started walking my towards me and i noticed how he had blood on his hands and his shirt. he didn’t kill jake.. did he? shit shit shit. “i did what you asked for” wait, what? “you let him go..?” he simply just nodded. i let out a sigh in relief, thank god. but wait- “you’re not gonna leave the house and you’ll stay in the basement, yeah? that’s what you promised” maybe i shouldn’t have said exactly that.. i really didn’t like being in that basement. and i’d like to leave the house once in a while, i can’t be locked up in here forever. “i know..” i said, still sat on his bed. “get up then” he took a step forward so he was stood in between my legs. “i- i wanted to sleep with you..” i slowly looked up at him and saw a smirk on his lips. “alright. i’ll let you sleep with me, but i need something from you first” he pressed my back onto the bed before he leaned down, hovering over me. his face was dangerously close to mine, and before i knew it he had smashed his lips onto mine. forget passionately, he was being really aggressive with me. i think it’s because he was still mad.

his hands travelled to the ends of my top before pulling it over my head. he unclipped my bra fast and threw it away somewhere on the floor. his hand instantly went to one of my breasts, squeezing it and rubbing my nipple with his thumb. he wrapped his mouth around my other nipple, swirling his tongue around before he bit down on it making me whimper, and he groaned when i did. his hand left my breast and instead went down to the hem of my skirt before pulling it down along with my panties, he was quick with it. i looked down to see him unbuckling his belt which made me nervous. this was gonna be my first time, and he wasn’t being very gentle. he lowered his sweatpants together with boxers revealing his huge dick that was red with pre-cum. my eyes widened at the sight of it, i wasn’t sure if i could take that, it looks like it would hurt a lot. “seungie..” “shh. don’t worry, pretty. i’ll make you feel good” he shushed me and placed a kiss on my lips. not knowing how any of this works, i thought he was gonna get right into it, but i was confused when i felt his fingers going up and down my slit. “shit.. you’re soaked. is all of this for me? hm?” i let out a “mhm” which sounded exactly like a moan. i gasped when he slipped in not one finger, but two at the same time. i arched my back and moaned when he started pumping his fingers in and out of me. “can’t even take my fingers..” he scoffed. i felt him curl his fingers as his movements started growing faster. while he was busy fingering me, he went down to kiss me again. i whined into his mouth when he slipped his tongue past my lips. i tried pulling away, i don’t know why, but it resulted in him grabbing me by my chin, forcing me to kiss him back. when i felt the heat growing in my stomach, i managed to pull away from the kiss. “i’m gonna cum..-“ he was quick to pull his fingers out of me the second i told him i was about to release. “not yet, pretty. need you to cum around my cock” he repositioned us, placing me down on his lap. he placed his arms on my waist and that’s when i remembered the blood he had on his hands. did he just finger me with jake’s blood on his fingers. i looked down at myself to see how he had smeared his blood over my chest, waist and pussy. i felt disgusted and dirty, but heeseung didn’t seem to care.

“look at me” he said, tapping his finger under my chin. when i looked up at him i suddenly felt his tip pressing at my entrance. his grip on my waist tightened, “you ready?” i nodded even tho i definitely wasn’t ready. “this might hurt, but you’ll be okay” i swallowed nervously before i felt him slowly pushing my hips down on his hardened length. i squeezed my eyes shut at the feeling, it was burning. i gripped onto his shoulders as my walls tightened around him. “almost there.. you’re doing so good” he whispered into my ear. god, i felt so full and he wasn’t even all the way in yet. it was definitely too much, i couldn’t handle it. “there we go. good girl” he said pressing a kiss to my cheek. i was fully sat down on his cock and he was big, way too big. “seungie, you’re too b-big..” i whimpered, hiding my face in the crook of his neck. “i know. i’ll make you feel good, yeah?” he lifted me up slowly allowing me to adjust to the overwhelming feeling. he pushed me all the way back down letting a loud moan escape from my mouth. he started bouncing me up and down, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise. he threw his head back in a groan as he snapped his hips up to meet mine. “a-ah.. seungie.. t-too much” the pain was completely gone, all i could feel was pleasure. “shit. take it” i heard him curse under his breath. he slams me down harder making all of it too much for me to handle. i bit down on his shoulder and he didn’t seem to mind, considering how he let out a moan when i did. “gonna fill you up and- shit.. so fucking tight” once again, i felt the heat growing in my stomach. the both of us let out loud pornographic moans as we both finish at the same time. i felt his warm cum filling me up, painting my insides white as i came around his cock. he pulls me in closer and places a kiss on my forehead when i tremble around him. my face still hid in his neck as i catch my breath, i feel him grab me by my chin forcing me to look at him. “you did so good, pretty” he pulled me in for a kiss, this time it was slow and passionate. with me still on top of him, sat on his cock as his cum slowly spills out of me, he lays down pulling the blanket over us. “get some rest now, okay?” i hum, placing a kiss on his neck before i drift off to sleep.

taglist: @simjungwon @flowerlvrs-blog (lmk if u want to be tagged)

[bandtrees]

this has always been one of my favorite lines in this scene it’s so striking to me. i think debating over callum’s level of lucidity and what can or cannot “fix” him is deeply antithecal to what the story is trying to express with him - but the idea that callum is still there and still a person who does have the capacity to love mingus, just not in a way she can ever comprehend or accept, because she can't comprehend or accept anything outside her narrow worldview, is sooooo good.

there is no way of actually knowing if callum is proud of mingus, much less recognizes her at all - but it's added to by the fact there's only so much of that she would accept even if he could. ultimately, she wants validation and power, his prestige, from him, she wants a supportive parental figure she never had - there's only so much of that callum is able to provide even in a world where her stint to fix his memory actually worked. he's like a hundred. he never even MET her. to say nothing of all he's missed in the past fifty-odd years. to say nothing of how his age may have messed with his mind deteriorating even without the pre-existing brain damage.

and mingus' phrasing here implies he doesn't even look at her when she visits - which brings me to the visit that radicalized her: the one after her surgery, where he was watching gingi out the window.

obviously, callum watching gingi is mostly for the thematics of it all, how similar the two of them are in ways mingus refuses to recognize, but theres also the thought of... callum's been sitting alone in that room for over half his life, barely lucid if at all. of course he's going to be drawn to a brightly-colored thing making noises and knocking stuff over outside. if he can't respond to stimuli of the people around him he's at the very least going to latch onto something more visually interesting than Brown Wall and Brown Figure.

but it's not like mingus can think of it like that, because she's internalized so much about her grandfather and built up such a specific, personalized vision of him - she doesn't see him as an elderly man with (a fictional equivalent to) dementia, she sees him as President Callum Crown™, the man she personally has to please and live up to the legacy of and make proud, disregarding the fact that's not something he has the mental capacity to even do - because she's so obsessed with validation and complete control that the only way she can get it is by either subjugating others and forcing it out of them (what she does with her townsfolk), or just completely projecting on someone who, for her purposes, is basically a blank slate.

which is maddening to her in its own way, see how crazy she drives herself trying to restore callum's memory in the first place - but also, would she be happy even if callum could see her for who she is? post-game, when she's working on herself, that's an irrelevant question as she's pushed past that need, but as we know her? absolutely not.

i love the ch3 standoff between norm and mingus as a show of "Okay guys let’s see who can dehumanize this disabled guy harder (via pedestal-putting) and justify themselves for it better" and why i think it is so important that it’s gingi who reads the postcard and ultimately speaks for callum instead of either of them, or even the narrator. they can’t read, and they struggle to, but they manage to get it right even when people are telling them to stop. and the fact they’re able to do it at all, are given the chance to do so, and are ultimately the one to wind down this conflict shows that the world of dialtown, while not perfect, really is how callum would have wanted it.

both gingi and callum are some of the most altruistic and human characters ever, and the crux of their parallels is that they are denied this by close-minded people because they happen to Behave Strangely. it's why seeing mingus act the way she does hits so hard - she loves her paw-paw, yes, but if she were to see him in a vacuum, a one-limbed man who can hardly think, much less speak for himself: or even his younger self, who was struggling to make ends meet with his odd inventions...

...well, the feeling norm's imagining here would probably be mutual. mingus' relationship with bigotry is a very fascinating one, she's very close-minded but views certain oddities (ie her flesh-head) as having earned their place and thus being fine - she's a freak too, by her own admission, but she's doing it for a just and wider purpose, so it's fine. which is, ironically, the ideology callum forced upon himself.

callum was obsessed with helping people, pushing himself to do more and more, because it was the only way he ever found respect. if he didn't help people and have grand visions for the world and make himself "useful" to society at large, then what would he be, if not a freak?

mingus and her paw-paw are very similar people, from their well-intentioned extremism, to their stubbornness and paranoia, to their inability to view themselves as anything more than a vessel for that grand cause they believe in (callum in the dialup, mingus in restoring her paw-paw's memory) - which is funny, because if mingus was able to view callum, and herself, as a flawed human person, she would come to understand how similar they really are.

:(

[heliads]

You and Me (A Whole Lot of History)

Based on this request: "y/n is a historian with access to old schematics so kaz hires her for a job. he keeps inventing reasons to find her afterwards until he’s forced to admit his feelings"

masterlist

You only get to study about half a chapter of your textbook before you’re interrupted by a criminal. It’s not like you mind having to put down the heavy tome you’ve been leafing through; estate law of centuries past is not your idea of some fun light reading, but you’ve been helping to piece together some fragments of an old mansion from pre-Unsea Kerch, and you’d really like to be able to decide if the master of the house your tattered documents keep referring to is the eldest son or the second eldest. 

It all depends on very specific details that refuse to make themselves known to you. So no, having an excuse to stop all this isn’t terrible, you’re just a little distracted by the fact that you’re in a private study room in the historical library of Ketterdam, and you know for certain that you locked the door that has just been opened.

You know who’s just broken into your study space. Not personally, that is, but just as well as any resident of the Barrel knows the one they call Dirtyhands– through bated breath, in stolen whispers of expensive heists and bodies left behind, no traitors tolerated and none allowed to live. The fact that Kaz Brekker has taken it upon himself to enter your study room of all the empty ones still available in the library is not promising, to say the least, although you have absolutely no idea what you’ve done to appear on his radar.

You are, in fact, quite possibly the last person Kaz would even be aware of. You’re a historian, specializing in a few select centuries and powerful families in the Kerch area. This means that you spend most of your time in old and crumbling buildings, not out in shady dealings or shootouts or any of the other places Brekker tends to frequent.

This doesn’t seem to stop Kaz from closing the door behind him and taking a seat opposite your desk. He folds his hands in front of him, idly contemplating the textbook you’re still supposed to be perusing, but remains frustratingly silent.

It falls to you, then, to pick up a conversation, which is unfair considering the fact that he’s the one who’s barged in on your space. “That door was locked for a reason, you know,” you point out.

Kaz arches a dour brow. “Yes. I opened it.”

He’s not making this easy for you. “Why?” You ask.

Instead of answering you, Brekker jerks his chin towards the book in front of you. “What’s that about?”

There is no earthly reason one of the most notorious gang leaders in the Barrel should be asking about the homework you’re doing for your job. Still, he has, so you must answer, no matter how confused you are about it. “Inheritance disputes of the fourteenth century Kerch nobles. Why, are you interested in checking it out after me?”

Kaz scoffs. “No. I just want your information, not that book.”

You feel yourself leaning back slightly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Trust me, whatever information you’re after won’t be found from me.”

Kaz shakes his head once. “No, actually, I think it will be.”

He reaches for something under his coat, and you’re hit with the brief terror that he’ll get a gun or something and you’ll die here and now, but then his gloved hand comes back out into the light carefully holding a rolled up piece of paper, which he smooths out onto the desk before you. You tuck your textbook away so you can get a better look at the thing, more curious now than afraid.

It turns out to be a copy of house blueprints. As you study it, you realize that you recognize the place. You were there recently for a project for your employer, checking up on the preservation of a few rooms. “Is this the old van Haarst mansion?” 

Brekker’s eyes flash, reminding you of the slick of oil on water. “You know about it?”

“Yeah,” you say, peering further at the blueprints. “I’ve worked there before.”

Kaz nods, looking pleased. “I’d like to buy your services. I need information on this building and your silence on the matter. Are you interested?”

Your brow furrows. “What information do you need?”

To answer you, Brekker tosses a stack of kruge onto the table. You can see the numbers on the edges, and know even without counting that this payment will be far more than what you’d earn even for a year at your job. This is the deal, then. He’ll only tell you more if you accept his money, and if you accept his money, you agree to whatever he wants.

Honestly, not the worst bargain. Ghezen knows you’ve had worse supervisors on other jobs. At least you can trust Brekker to be honest so long as you are too.

You put the stack of bills into your bag, and turn back to the blueprints with renewed interest. “Are you trying to get in or get out?”

“Both,” Kaz tells you. “I’m assuming you’ve heard rumors of Marysa’s Diamond?”

You choke out a laugh. “Have I ever.”

Marysa’s Diamond is like the Saints in flesh for historians. The van Haarst family was exceedingly rich, and one of their matriarchs, Marysa van Haarst, was said to be in possession of an incredible gemstone, the diamond named after her. It disappeared when the family abandoned Kerch for Ravka following the death of three of Marysa’s sons, and no one has seen it since.

You blow out a low breath. “You think it’s in the old house somewhere? Historians have been all over the place, we would have found it if it was there.”

“It wasn’t always,” Kaz tells you. “It’s been moved there. I have good information that the van Haarst house will act as a safe house for the stone while it’s being moved from hand to hand. They’ll keep it there overnight. I will be entering the estate with a team and taking it.”

He goes silent, as if waiting for any objections. You don’t really care about the morals of the affair, though. You have your money and you get to be the foremost expert on a historical favorite of yours. Robberies happen every day, not something to get teary eyed over.

When you don’t speak up, Kaz continues on. “They’ll be keeping the stone in a place no one can find. There will be a window of exactly one bell in which the old owner leaves the house and is replaced by the new owner, carefully staggered so the stadwatch aren’t alerted by too many people in the estate after hours. That means it would have to be a damn good hiding spot. If you were hiding a gemstone in this house, where would you put it?”

You consider the blueprints before you again. There are a thousand and one places you could hide something in there– tucked inside the grand piano, in a safe, under one of a hundred carpets– and there’s no way Brekker’s men could find it in time.

However, that means the person meant to be picking up the diamond wouldn’t be able to find it as well. They would have to find somewhere in the estate hidden to everyone else but the recipient of the gemstone.

The answer occurs to you in a flash. “Oh,” you say, “Secret room.”

Brekker blinks at you. “What?”

You point at the map. “It’s totally going in the secret room. I mean, they don’t want it to be found by anyone else, right? That’s, like, the whole point of a secret room.”

Were it not for the fact that he’s, well, Dirtyhands, you’d swear his voice turns sarcastic. “That was my understanding of a secret room, yes. Where is it?”

Were it not for the fact that he is in fact Dirtyhands, you would roll your eyes. “There’s an entrance off of the secondary hallway leading off of the dining room. Unlock the door using a little latch under the bottom of the ugly painting of the old duchess of Belendt.”

He stares at you. “How do you know that? It’s not on any map.”

You lift a shoulder. “I wanted to know why they’d keep such a foul portrait around. The elites of that time period were huge on perfectionism, every one of their paintings had to be absolutely glorious or it would get removed from their sight. That’s why there are so many old paintings in the surrounding villages, actually, the nobles would just leave these expensive oil paintings outside the castle because they couldn’t take the sight of them anymore. There was no reason they’d let such a dreadful portrait stay unless it was hiding something.”

You had been focused on the map in your hands during the majority of this little speech, fondly recalling little anecdotes from your history classes, but you remember yourself soon enough. You look up and Kaz is staring at you, almost fascinated.

You feel your cheeks heat up. “Sorry, I’m rambling. Got distracted.”

He shakes his head brusquely, although there’s a hint of pink on the tops of his cheekbones that wasn’t there before. “No, no. It’s important information. So we should be aware of any suspicious paintings?”

“Yeah,” you muse, “just look for the bad ones. Pretend you’re an art critic or something.”

The edges of Kaz’s dour glare turn themselves up into something of a humored smirk. “Will do. Thank you for the advice, L/N.”

You nod. “Have fun with the heist. Hey, if you see any older books on the history of the family, would you mind grabbing one or two for me? I’ve been trying to do some research for ages, but the library keeps stalling on getting resources to me, no matter how many requests I send.”

Kaz’s brows draw close together. “That would be unbelievably risky. We can’t take more things than we need or we could be caught.”

You grin. “I know, I’m kidding. Just a joke.”

Kaz’s expression lightens microscopically. “Yes, a joke.”

He leaves soon enough, pushing his chair away from the desk and rolling up the blueprints with a crisp snap of the paper. He warns you to keep your mouth shut about the plans, but you’re not sure that he does it with the fire you expected of a notorious gang leader. Instead, the words are soft, like he’s cautioning a friend.

You don’t hear from him again, not for a while. You’re not sure when this mysterious diamond deal is going down, and you doubt the unlucky men Kaz will grift can go to the stadwatch about this. In fact, you have no idea if it’s happened at all until about a week later. You had gone about your day like normal, not suspecting a thing until the moment you unlocked your door.

And there, centered perfectly on your desk when you get back home despite the fact that you never gave keys to your apartment to anyone, are three books. Aged, cracked covers, gilded writing. You hesitantly pick up one and read the title under your breath:  A History of the Bendtsen Family, 1200-1500. Another:  The van Almelos of the Belendt Region:  Two Centuries of Political and Economic Legacy.

Kaz. He actually got the books. Never mind that you were joking, never mind that he knew that, Kaz Brekker went out of his way to risk a heist just so he could help you out with a research project. Saints. And they say chivalry is dead.

You don’t expect to get the chance to thank him for it until he randomly crosses your path not two weeks later. He’s alone again, miraculously turning up outside your company door just as you leave to walk home. Kaz informs you that he’ll need your services again, exchanging some kruge for more words. This time, he wants details on an office building down the street, one that used to be a city hall. You’re able to take him in yourself thanks to access granted to all historians for historic places, and turn a blind eye when he grabs a few documents regarding interport commerce.

He walked you to your door that night, lingering over the threshold like a teenager not wanting to leave a first date. He shows up again after a month, using an excuse that’s less polished and more finicky. The next time, he doesn’t have an excuse at all. It’s just him, standing in front of you. No money, no plan. He just wanted to see you.

Kaz calls it ‘checking up on an investment,’ but you get the feeling that it’s not something he usually does. He walks with you by the water, he buys you drinks at a bar not even in his own pocket. It’s unusually sweet, so you can’t bite back your questions anymore and confront him about it when he hovers in front of your door for the dozenth time.

“What is this about, Kaz?”

He blinks at you in surprise. “What?”

You gesture between the two of you. “All of this. This isn’t for a job anymore. Why?”

Kaz looks away. It’s rare for him to not have a perfect poker face. Perhaps it’s yet another sign that this means something more, something that you can’t help but wish for. “I wanted to make sure you were safe. I’ve called on you for several jobs that can risk the players involved in the game.”

You shake your head. “You’ve gone out of your way to make sure no one knows about me. It’s just us, Kaz. You did that on purpose.”

“Yes,” he admits at last, “I did. I wanted something for myself. Something that wasn’t as bad as the rest.”

He risks a glance over at you, and his shoulders square slightly when he realizes you aren’t trying to fight him on this, or worse, leave. “You’re good, Y/N. Good things don’t last long around here. I want to make sure you do. I want you to stay forever.”

With me, he means. He wants to keep you in his life. His eyes flicker to your hands, and although you know he won’t take them, not yet, he wants to. That’s why you finally put together the pieces. Kaz Brekker is not good at verbalizing his feelings. Perhaps he never will be. This is the best shot he can give you, and he could not even say the word ‘love’ if it ripped his heart out with bleeding fingertips.

You've had so much over the years, and it has never been enough. Not once, not ever. A thousand coffers could empty themselves, a hundred men die and be reborn. It has never once stopped you. This, by contrast, is nothing. A canal rat's promise, most likely broken before the night is through. You know it, Kaz knows it. This is nothing. 

Yet it is the most true thing you have ever had, the one solid stone in a wall about to come crumbling down. It is small, barely there at all, but still worth it. Maybe that is why you stay, for the hope. For him. It is enough.

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @deadreaderssociety, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @eclliipsed, @mayfieldss, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy

[emphistic]

Teenage Dream

<- series m.list

“I honestly do not get why you’re so worked up on this. What’s so wrong about dating someone who does not like macaroni and cheese?” asked Sukuna, raising a brow as he popped a potato chip into his mouth.

“It’s not that. I just—I want to have a successful relationship with someone who likes mac and cheese as much as I do. Conflict of interests, I guess, but is that really so ridiculous?”

“Conflict of interests is more reasonable, now that you put it that way, but over macaroni and cheese? Seriously?”

Sukuna wasn’t wrong, you couldn’t deny that. It’s, without a doubt, a conclusion beyond silly. But, after so many hardships, you’ve finally come to realize that you’ll probably never be able to date a guy who likes macaroni and cheese. Every relationship you’ve had has always been with someone that either hated macaroni and cheese, or was lactose intolerant; no in between. 

At first, it was just a mere coincidence. But after so many instances, you end up thinking you’re cursed, and find yourself consulting with your childhood best friend, Sukuna Ryomen.

You frowned, lowering your gaze. “My parents taught me how to make homemade macaroni and cheese, you should already know that. We always made it together at least once a year, and it’s one of my favorite memories. But, after moving out, I don’t have time to visit them anymore. I remember seeing how happy both my mom and dad were whenever they cooked together. So, my dream has always been to make macaroni and cheese with someone I love, as well. It’s all I’ve ever wanted in life.”

You fully expected Sukuna to laugh in your face, but he didn’t. When you looked up, you could even see a faint smile on his lips, before he turned his head to the side, avoiding your gaze.

“That’s kinda deep coming from you.”

“Is that really all you have to say? I just dumped out a part of my life that I’ve never told anyone else and you decide to—”

“Then again, you do realize Yuuji likes macaroni and cheese, right? Why don’t you just date him? I mean, we all grew up together, and you two are pretty close in age.” Sukuna shrugged, picking up his glass of water to take a sip.

You snorted, waving a hand to dismiss the impossible idea. “He’s like a brother to me. But . . . now that you mention it. . . What do you think about macaroni and cheese?”

Sukuna—understanding the second meaning of your question—spit out his drink, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before turning to you. You didn’t miss the faint blush on his cheeks. “I didn’t hear that last part,” he cleared his throat, “what did you say?”

“Do you like macaroni and cheese?” You repeated yourself.

“It’s okay—” said Sukuna, but you didn’t hear it.

“‘Cause if you did, I think I know a way to get rid of my curse! We can start dating, and after having a pretty successful relationship, we can go back to what we are now, and then, boom!—my curse is lifted, and I can finally date other people who like macaroni and cheese.”

With every sentence that you spoke, Sukuna’s jaw seemed to drop lower and lower. “How did you even think of that?”

“COVID-19, of course!” you said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Natural immunity or something like that. Your immune system produces antibodies to fight off a germ, and if you’re exposed to that germ again in the future, your body’s defenses will be able to recognize it and fight it off with antibodies, making you less likely to get infected again.”

“And this correlates to your situation because?”

You paused, before looking back at Sukuna. “Not important, but anyway, do you like macaroni and cheese? Yes or no?”

Sukuna blinked, before looking as if he was considering the pros and cons of replying. As if he had anything to lose, you thought.

“Yeah. I love macaroni and cheese, actually. I used to have it all the time back then.”

Your eyes widened, and your smile grew. “That’s—that’s great! So, uhm,” you paused, “do you want to do this?”

“Do I want to date—I mean, get into a fake relationship with you? Let me think.” Sukuna put a pointer finger and thumb on his chin, pretending to weigh his options. “What’s in it for me?”

Now this is what had you stumped. You hadn’t thought of that yet; throughout your whole thought process, you were only thinking of yourself. And, there really was nothing about this arrangement that could benefit Sukuna. The relationship was for your sake, not his. But maybe. . .

“You’ll have a girlfriend?” you proposed. “I can, like, cheer for you at your basketball games, and stuff.”

“We go to the same school; you already do that.”

“Right. . . Oh! I can make you mac and cheese whenever you want?”

“Pass.”

You chewed your lip trying to come up with a good enough reason. “. . .I always have the best hors d’oeuvres?”

“Not important.”

“Err, you can just do this for me out of the kindness of your heart?”

“Kindness of my heart? I wouldn’t put it that way, but go on.”

“I mean, we’re friends and all, right? You can think of this as a mere favor; and I’ll repay you by inviting you to my wedding when I finally marry someone who loves macaroni and cheese.”

Sukuna furrowed his brows, looking conflicted at hearing that last part, before finally agreeing to your proposition. “Okay, this is just a favor. Sure, I’ll do it.”

It took you a second to fully register what Sukuna said, but when you did, you set your iced tea down on the table beside you, and, nearly jumping out of your seat, threw your arms around Sukuna, trapping him in the tightest hug you had ever given to anyone. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!”

His voice came soon after, muffled, but you could still tell Sukuna said something along the lines of “you’re welcome” and “you’re crushing me, brat”. But you completely dismissed that last part.

You laughed at Sukuna as he continued to grumble unintelligible complaints about how he heard his bones crack under your embrace. “So grumpy. This is totally a time to celebrate.”

“It’s really not.”

“Don’t be silly. I mean, I’m gonna be able to finally date someone who likes macaroni and cheese. We should totally go out for drinks tonight!”

Sukuna shrugged, giving in. “Only if you’re paying.”

“I would agree, but is that really something a good boyfriend would say to his girlfriend? Making her pay?”

You could practically hear Sukuna’s eye roll from behind you as you turned around to grab your phone from your bag.

“What’re you doing now? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for our date?” Sukuna said the word with unfamiliarity. Yeah, you had a long way to go before you would get used to the fact that you were in a relationship with the man currently sitting in your apartment.

“In a sec. I’m just making sure I don’t lose my Duolingo streak.”

“Right now? Fuckin’ weirdo,” said Sukuna, as he sat up from his spot on the sofa. “Tell me when you’re ready; I’m gonna take a shit.”

Nodding, you said, “Roger that.”

“. . .Do not ever say that cringey shit to me ever again, or I’ll break up with you.”

You laughed at that last part. The threat seemed more humorous than it should’ve; perhaps it was the unconventional spirit of your relationship.

When you two were kids, you and Sukuna would frequently hang out at each other’s houses and play-fight until the sun would go down, and his grandpa would scold you both for making a mess of the house. It was a bright and colorful time of Sukuna’s life. And, after having known you since childhood, Sukuna grew pretty familiar with your outgoing personality and general craziness.

But, with that being said, Sukuna was beyond taken aback when you brought up the idea of being cursed. You? Cursed? In this decade? This was real life, not some dystopian book. Sukuna thought you were bordering the line between sane and insane when you further explained your current predicament to him.

So, just because you couldn’t find a suitable lover who liked macaroni and cheese, you thought you were doomed for life? Sukuna almost laughed out loud when you expressed how serious you were.

“It’s not funny!” you told him, but he couldn’t have thought you were being more ridiculous.

And when you brought up your idea on how to get rid of your “curse”, Sukuna was planning on telling you how silly you were being, but all thought of that immediately died down in his throat when you mentioned a possible relationship with him. 

What do you mean Sukuna had an opportunity to get into a relationship with you? As in, he could be your boyfriend? It was like the gates of Heaven had opened up right before him, and were offering eternal paradise to him.

Then again, it was only an act. A fake relationship. But, nevertheless, Sukuna would take all that was given to him; he always did.

-

“You know, Sukuna, I’m really grateful for you for doing this. I mean, it might be a little weird to act like we’re dating and all, but it can’t be that bad, right? We’re already friends; dating couldn’t possibly be so different?” you suggested.

Sukuna took a sip of his drink, “Dunno. I’m not usually friends with my girlfriends.”

“Really?” you leaned in closer to the conversation. “So you mean you don’t, like. . . Never mind. How do you even get girlfriends, then? I usually meet people through a mutual friend, and then we get to know each other, become friends ourselves, and—”

Sukuna cut you off, “I don’t think you really get what I’m saying here. Besides, I’m not here for advice on how to meet potential girlfriends. I think I’m pretty experienced in that department.”

You laughed, “But, really, thanks for doing this for me.” 

Smiling, you placed a hand over Sukuna’s, which was resting on the table. He looked a bit tense at the action, but he didn’t push you away.

“It’s what friends do, right?

You hummed, averting your gaze elsewhere. “Anyways, I’m pretty sure this counts as our first date.”

“Huh,” Sukuna agreed. “Kind of boring, I gotta say. I mean, going out for drinks at a bar? Not a very romantic scenario.”

“Still, isn’t this exciting either way—?”

“I think I know a way to make this evening more exciting,” a cool voice cut you off midway. “Mind if we join you?”

You knew that voice. When you turned around, you were met with the face of. . .

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Wondered If I Could Come Home (Astarion x F! pregnant reader) (Part 3)

Synopsis: A hag has set her eyes on you and Eowyn- Astarion is determined to kill the damn thing.

CW: Mentions of child loss

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are much appreciated!!!!

Picture does not belong to me! Please reach out to me if it is yours!

P.s. lightly edited

Month 8 has been blissful and going into your last month- you actually feel stronger than you have the entire time.

You sit on a bench, reading another book about babies (you save the Dhampir books for locations with less eyes), as Astarion throws a ball with Scratch and Wide Eyes (Karlach thought her name for the Owlbear was clever) in the local park. Astarion had been fed up with their zoomie shenanigans since they began earlier this morning. You wanted to go outside anyway- so it was perfect!

Eowyn kicks every so often to let you know that she is still there and doesn’t intend on leaving anytime soon, but overall, it’s been a really easy day. It’s fun to be able to watch Astarion enjoy such mundane life activities and it makes you realize how many simple things in your life that you have taken for granted.

You smile to yourself as you continue to read your book and you finally feel hungry enough to begin munching on the pastry Astarion bought you.

It was an apple cupcake and it was surprisingly very very yummy.

“My, my,” a scratchy voice says, “aren’t you a pretty little bred thing.”

You feel the hairs on your neck stand up and you turn very slowly to look at the elderly woman who stares at you with a look of hunger in her eyes. Oh- it’s the woman Astarion bought the cupcake from. She looked… friendlier earlier?

You don’t know why you feel like you are in danger all of a sudden, but your arms go over your stomach protectively- one of them ready to fire a cantrip if needed. The energy around her feels familiar, but different- you’ve been in the presence of this type of magic before, but you can’t remember when.

“You are that pretty girl that lives in the house with the dark curtains,” she steps closer, “you come and buy those herbs with your little Cleric friend!”

Oh- maybe that’s why I recognize her more? I’ve seen her more than I’ve realized?

“You know, Droplet, I could take that little one off your hands.”

Your whole body freezes at the statement and her already wicked smile becomes even more menacing and even intimidating.

“You do look close to death as is- you don’t really want to birth a child you won’t survive having do you? Especially not a bloodthirsty Dhampir!”

You feel your heart racing, a deep sadness and fear is coursing through you.

Eowyn, my sweet girl, you are not going anywhere.

That relieves some of the uncomfortable emotions stirring within you, but this woman has you in a trance. You can’t look away from her and you don’t feel like you can move.

“I- I don’t know you,” you say shakily, “I- you need to walk away, please. I’m not interested and I don’t know what you are talking about.”

You don’t even sound convincing to yourself. You begin to feel really sleepy all of a sudden and your eyes are becoming harder to keep open. Something is wrong and as much as you want to call out to Astarion- your mouth feels heavy.

“Oh, Droplet,” the woman tuts, “it will be okay- you’ll wake up and it will all be bet-“

“What in the hells do you think you are doing?”

Whatever spell the woman had tried to put you under broke when she jumped at Astarion’s voice. You look over at the father of your child and you almost begin to sob. You have never been more grateful for how menacing Astarion can look when he wants to.

“Oh, hello!” she recovers her composure, “I know this young, adorably pregnant girl from the market. I was just offering to… adopt.”

“Oh yes,” Astarion snarls, “because Hags are known for their kind hearted souls and their selfless adoption of children.”

You feel sick to your stomach. Scratch is up on the bench and standing between you and the Hag- his hackles are raised and a long, low growl is released from his throat while Wide Eyes stands right next to you as close as he can get.

The Hag looks at you, then Astarion, then Scratch, and lastly, Wide Eyes before she returns her gaze back to yours. She gives you one last wide grin.

“I will see you later, Droplet. You should know that I always get what I want.”

You turn to Astarion who is pushing past the Owlbear- your face is in between his hands in an instant and he’s frantically searching over you- looking for signs of maltreatment..

Astarion pulls out an antidote from his pocket and makes you drink it- just in case the woman had intentionally poisoned the cupcake. It didn’t make the intense sleepiness you feel go away, but at least you know you aren’t dying.

It doesn’t matter to him though- Astarion is quick to pull you up and support you while you walk home. You can tell Astarion wants to just pick you up and run back home to Shadowheart, but you both know how crazy that might look considering normal men who have Astarion’s physique can’t carry pregnant women.

The park is only a block away, but it felt like it took hours. The world is hazy and you shift in and out of focus as Shadowheart begins to check on you.

“Wh-when did Shaodowww smart get here?”

“Will you please figure out what’s wrong already, CLERIC!?”

Astarion yells and your jumbled brain jumps- tears come falling out of your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” you sob, “I- I didn’t- I shouldn’t-“

“Shhhhhhhh, my Darling,” Astarion is sitting next to you in an instant as you begin to tilt over, “it’s okay- this is not your fault.”

“You….. sur…..”

Your question dies on your lips as you give into the exhaustion and fall asleep with your head on Astarion’s shoulder.

***********************

Astarion’s chest loosens when Jaheira, Minsc, Gale, and Halsin arrive. At least now he can go and kill the hag without worrying about dying in the process. He almost left after you had fallen asleep- the muffin he had bought you had in fact been laced with a sleeping potion. Astarion felt like a complete idiot, but Gale reassured him that he couldn’t have possibly known.

You are laying peacefully asleep in your bed and Astarion finds himself putting his hand against your belly to make sure Eowyn is okay- her kicks give him instant relief from the anxiety he is feeling.

He almost lost both of you and that thought is still enough to make Astarion homicidal. He will not let another evil individual take his life, his happiness- his home- ever again.

“S-star?”

Your eyes are staring at him lazily as you try to blink away the sleepiness. Astarion gently grasps your hand and brushes the stray hairs out of your face.

“I’m right here, my Love,” Astarion whispers, “I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you. I promise.”

You whimper and sniffle at Astarion’s words- your bottom lip trembling. Astarion climbs into the bed behind you and holds you to him- you burst into tears.

“I al-almost lost-“ you say through sobs, “Eow-“

“Shhhh Darling, it’s okay. She’s okay,” he soothes, “I’m going with the others to kill the Hag. Jaheira and Shadowheart are going to stay here with you- okay?”

“Don’t go,” you turn awkwardly to look at him, your face is grief stricken, “I don’t want to lose you- please don’t go.”

“Darling…”

“Please.”

Right as Astarion responds- Gale is knocking on the door.

“Would it be alright if I came in?”

“Yes,” you both say in unison.

Gale smiles at Astarion sadly after he looks at you. Astarion didn’t think about the fact that it was hard for your friends to see you in this emotional state until he moved in. Shadowheart cries after leaving the room when you’ve had a particularly scary vomiting episode or false contraction. She is terrified for you and it made him realize he had been wrong about her as well. Shadowheart is a selfless person for the right people.

“Minsc and Halsin are about ready to go, Astarion,” Gale looks between the two of you- noticing how the comment created some tension, “Tav- he will come back alive. We all will. We fought Auntie Ethel as a group of total strangers with no battle experience together and won. This will be a breeze, my Friend.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

You take a deep, inhale in and with one last sniff you agree to not put up a fight about Astarion going. Astarion can’t believe that you would trust Gale’s opinion on the matter more, but he does understand the sentiment. It’s how he feels about Jaheira and Shadowheart staying behind.

He leaves a chaste kiss on your forehead and whispers promises of seeing you soon- promises he intends on keeping.

[alexiethymia]

Boiling Hot Iron vs Lukewarm Water

Maomao's Way of Affection Part 2

[LN 12 spoilers]

I AM ACTUALLY FOAMING AT THE MOUTH. I mean I read it somewhere, but apparently yes, Maomao does initiate the kiss in the light novel. Even if she did accept his feelings, I always thought that it might have been too fast the way she was ready for a night visit already, but I always chalked it up to her upbringing in the pleasure district and her being fifty-fifty that Jinshi wouldn't actually try anything. But the fact that she is the one to actually instigate a kiss, and quite a sweet one at that, while Jinshi was sleeping. This scene in LN 12 really is in contrast to the scene in LN 5 where it was Jinshi who forced the kiss, and even to later on when Maomao ends up falling asleep and Jinshi restrains himself to a kiss on the forehead for replenishment.

It's hard to be coherent with my ramblings but one of the reasons why I love this series is the slow burn on Maomao's part which is really fulfilling, and the slight angst we get because of that, and not just on Jinshi's part.

Below is a translation from the Spanish translation of LN 12:

She just doesn't get it. He wants to step down from his position near the top of the country for a purpose. If that purpose was MaoMao himself, he would definitely have gone mad.

It's as hot as cast iron.

Maomao is not interested in such blazing heat. The only thing she can give back is a warm temperature.

Slowly puts his hand on Mr. Jinshi's cheek and feels his body temperature, which is the same as warm water. Her cheek was slightly colder. His eyelids were completely closed and he rubbed his cheek against my hand like a kitten to be pet. Looks like he sleeps, like he feels safe.

Maomao seems to struggle with the inequality of Jinshi's feelings and hers. She compares Jinshi's feelings to hot cast iron, and hers to warm water. And no wonder, to her, Jinshi willing to give up everything, including his position, for her, seems to be such a passionate love. As much as she snarks and would rather say that she could just do without all of Jinshi's gestures (*cough branding himself for example, this damn masochist cough*), she recognizes how much Jinshi has given up and is willing to give up for her, not to mention all that he has in fact given her.

She even goes to say, "I don't even have anything in return for you." When she says this line, I think that she isn't just referring to being unable to return the depth of Jinshi's feelings, but even their difference in position. As Suiren observes, despite Maomao's forthrightness, perhaps because of the environment they're in, she is very much aware of her station.

It's such a melancholic line coming from her. It seems to me as if she really is afraid of hurting Jinshi. She already doesn't like the thought of Jinshi being hurt like Luomen, but now she also doesn't want to be the one to hurt him. On top of that, for the normally aloof Maomao, it may be that she's starting to feel unconfident precisely because of the difference in position.

Maomao strikes me as a person who wants to be used. Even when she wasn't in love with Jinshi yet, she always seemed to want to be praised for doing a good job. So for her to think that it's just her who keeps receiving and receiving, while not being able to give anything back, the inequality (this time going in the reverse direction) must bother her a lot. She never used to care so for her to feel different from how she usually does because of Jinshi - caring about him, being unsure of herself because of him - oh she must hate how that feels so no wonder she wants to remove herself from the equation. But alas, it's too late.

Unlike Maomao though, I don't think that there's such a disparity between her feelings and Jinshi's despite that she describes his feelings as boiling hot and hers as warm. Yes definitely I feel that Jinshi's feelings may be stronger, but I feel that Maomao's is actually closer to his than she thinks. I think it may be because the nature of their feelings may be strongly influenced by their past.

Jinshi has always had the things he's loved taken from him. He wasn't allowed to prioritize a single thing or a single person because of the responsibilities he's had to assume from such a young age. Sure he's childish now but that may be because he had to grow up fast. Of course he would be desperate and slightly bit manic when it comes finally falling in love. He'll always feel that Maomao will be taken away from him unless he does something about it with his own hands.

Meanwhile, because of Maomao's complicated past with her birth parents, it's no wonder that Jinshi's passion unnerves her. Remember it was that same passion that caused her mother to hurt her. No wonder she doesn't want it. But when it comes to that feeling called love, that's the only version she recognizes because that's what she's been surrounded with in the pleasure district and even in the rear palace - lust imitating love, or even if it was love, a passionate and all-consuming love that destroys everything in its path.

But what does Jinshi make her feel? Trust. Safety. Even if her rational mind tells her that people's feelings change, Jinshi's constant proclamations that he will make everything be ok so that the both of them can be together may in fact actually reassure her. Heck, perhaps that was why Maomao goaded him to make that verbal confession a while back, precisely so she could have that assurance. She doesn't recognize it because she's never seen or had it, but perhaps this stability is something she's wanted her whole life. And I would say her feelings for Jinshi are nearly as strong as his for her, precisely because she feels for him the same way he makes her feel. Nothing passionate but also uncertain. But rather something warm and can be relied on. It's a feeling that pushes her to want to see him safe and healthy. It's a comforting and homey feeling that allows her to relax. And for Maomao who's always considered herself frigid, for her frozen heart to feel that warmth is also a tiny miracle in a way.

Jinshi is childish. Maomao is weird. But apart from their extremes, they're actually a lot alike - engrossed in their work, willful, but ultimately just. Apart from anything else, they're at ease when they can talk to each other. It's actually interesting for me to see how those emotions develop from Maomao's side since Jinshi is giving her space to take things at her own pace, another slow burn in a way. But while Jinshi's love is loud, Maomao's love is quiet. Even before this admission, it was always there, in the soft touches to the hair or cheeks, in being a refuge for rest and sleep, in her worry when he was overworking himself. The moment I would pinpoint that Maomao had actually already fallen in love with Jinshi was when she was contemplating Enen and Yao's relationship. She thinks to herself, "the more you cared for someone, the more you wanted a say in how they behaved - especially if that behavior involved hurting themselves." Now doesn't that sound familiar?

*Note - because I loved it and I'm impatient I'll share the translations for that particular scene in LN 12 in the comments section. One is translated from the Spanish version, while the other is translated from the Korean version. I got all of this from facebook. I'm quite interested to see how it'll come out in the English version.

[cuubism]

thinking about that meta about the endless not really transforming into different forms but rather being all forms simultaneously and just being perceived differently from different points of view. and yeah

--

"So, Death was telling me something interesting about you yesterday," Hob says, sipping on his coffee.

Dream pouts, though he would probably deny that that's what it is. "You are gossiping with my sister behind my back?"

"You know we talk."

"Gossip," Dream mutters again, steps taking on a pace adjacent to an irritable trudge. "What unseemly things does she say about me?"

"Why do you think she says mean things about you?"

"Every time we speak, she calls me an idiot," Dream says, and Hob lets out a startled laugh.

"That's what siblings do," Hob reminds him. "You know she loves you."

"Hmm." Dream plucks Hob's coffee from his hand, taking a ponderous sip. "What praises does she heap upon me, then?"

Hob shakes his head in fond exasperation. "She says that you -- Endless, that is -- can like... change your appearance for different people? Or creatures? Like. If you met a cat you would appear as a cat to them?"

"You do not quite have the right of it," Dream says. He hasn't returned Hob's coffee, despite having insisted that he 'did not require mortal sustenance' when Hob had offered to get him his own.

"What's the right of it, then?"

"It is not for human minds to comprehend."

Hob groans. "At least humor me and try to explain? Do you turn into a cat or not?"

"I do not turn into anything," Dream says, offended. "How base and common."

"Shapeshifting is base and common, I'll make sure to tell all the shapeshifters I know," Hob tells him seriously.

Dream lets out a sigh that Hob recognizes as meaning fine, I will answer your inane questioning about the nature of my existence. The funny thing is, now that they've gotten over the six hundred year barrier of what's your name and what do you do for work, Dream delights in talking about his creations. He will speak at length about his work given half a chance.

It's the personal -- whether that's something as mundane as how he takes his tea or as fundamental as what an Endless even is, exactly -- that's been hard to get at.

"I am a cat," Dream explains.

Hob stares at him, looking up and down at the very man-shaped figure walking beside him as if he needs to double-check. "You're definitely not a cat."

"Yes, I am," Dream says. He does not appear to be joking.

And apparently Hob is still thirteen years old all these centuries later, because he says, "Prove it."

"You cannot see it because you are not a cat," Dream sighs, as if this is truly a tragic occurrence.

"Maybe I am a cat," Hob suggests, tucking his hands in his pockets, all casual. "How would you know?"

Dream gives him a sidelong look. "You are not a cat. Though perhaps you would be more peaceful as one."

"Doubt it. But wait, so, if I was a cat I would be able to see your cat form?"

"In essence, yes. But. You speak as if I would be donning a coat. These are not forms. Merely fragments. Simultaneous angles on a whole."

"Fragments," Hob repeats. He works it through like a particularly hard math problem. "Hang on. So. You're also a cat now. If we met a cat they would see a cat."

Fuck, this is getting weird.

Dream looks proud of Hob for getting it. "Yes."

"Could have attempted to explain that instead of just saying I am a cat," Hob tells him. "I also still maintain that you are not actually a cat."

"I am as much a cat as I am a human," Dream says.

"So, not," Hob says.

"No," Dream agrees. "Because I am Dream."

"You're a nightmare, is what you are," Hob mutters, and Dream smirks.

"That, too."

They've been walking in silence for another few minutes when Hob asks, "What's your real form?"

Dream frowns. "All of my forms are real, Hob."

"Sure, you look like this or that to different people. What do you look like to yourself?"

"All of my forms are real," Dream insists.

"So what I'm seeing now isn't some kind of default? Are you just always different? Is this like that we don't know how other people see colors 'cuz everyone's eyes could be different thing? Or is there any internal consistency to you?"

"I don't know what thing you're referring to."

"What I'm trying to find out is did I invent this version of you in my head?" Hob asks, getting stressed about it now. Did his subconscious somehow decide this was what Dream should look like? Presumably Dream knows what he looks like to Hob. What if he doesn't like it? "Did I just decide yep that's what dreams should look like in 1389 and you've been stuck wearing black ever since?"

Dream chuckles. Probably amused Hob would ever think he had that much power. "No. There is what you call internal consistency in my appearance. Different creatures, cultures, and so on will see different aspects of me, but there is not a different aspect for each person. It is not infinite."

Oh, thank god. "So, you want to look this way."

"I suppose."

Never a straight answer with him.

"Well, just for the record," Hob says, "I fell in love with the entity but I happen to quite like the shape as well."

"The shape," Dream repeats, with a smile.

"Here's where you're going to tell me you're also a triangle or something."

Dream is silent.

Fucking hell.

"I'm not even going to ask," Hob decides, forcibly moving on. "I have another question."

"You have many," Dream observes.

"That's what you love about me," Hob says, and Dream tilts his head as if conceding the point.

"If there was a human culture that thought of dreams as represented by cats," Hob starts, "they might see you as a cat?"

Dream sips at Hob's coffee, considering. "I suppose."

"And was there ever one?"

"No."

Hob lets out a long breath. Dream is frustrating as hell to talk to sometimes, but Hob can't say he doesn't enjoy it anyway, doesn't enjoy the puzzle. "Was there ever any culture like that, though? That saw their dream representation as something other than a person?"

"There was one that thought dreams lived in bubbles, therefore I was the reflection of light along a bubble's curve," Dream says, expressionlessly. As if that isn't wild and fascinating. "However, that civilization has since disbanded and morphed into different forms."

"Which civilization was that?"

"You would not know it," Dream says.

Hob tips his head back and groans. "God, you're like an edgy teenager who knew that indie band before they were cool. Oh, which band? No, you wouldn't know them, they're too niche, too underground."

"Underwater," says Dream. "It was a civilization of dolphins."

Hob trips over a crack in the road and just manages to catch himself. Dream stops by his side, watching him with some concern, like he worries Hob might break himself in his clumsiness.

"The way the world looks to you must be insane," Hob says, staring at Dream.

Dream's lips tip up in the faintest smile. "Human perspective is narrow."

"Clearly. I wish I could see all your other forms. Must be amazing."

"You wish to see them?" Dream sounds surprised.

Hob scoffs. "Of course. But it's not sounding very possible."

Dream inclines his head in agreement.

Then a thought occurs. "Wait." And god, Hob has said a lot of stupid-sounding things in his life but this is about to be one of the worst. "If I pretend to be a cat, can I see your cat form?"

Dream can never answer a simple question directly, but apparently this absurd query is fine. "I suppose it is possible in theory for you to see it. But pretending is not enough. You would have to wholly assume the perspective of a cat. I do not know if it would be possible in practice."

Hob's never needed much more encouragement than that to try something. "Alright. Hold my coffee."

"I am already holding it," Dream points out.

"Hush. I'm being a cat."

How he's supposed to do that, Hob doesn't know. He paces back and forth before Dream, squinting in the sunlight. He looks at him from every angle. He tries to imagine what cats might dream of. Mice? Freedom? Sleeping in warm places? Their dreams must be feeling and instinct-driven, not intellectual.

Hob crouches down, looking up at Dream from as close to a cat's height as he can manage. Dream merely raises an eyebrow.

"Are you going to meow at me?" he asks mildly.

"Meow," Hob says, and Dream's mouth pops open in a round o of surprise that is one hundred percent worth the indignity of kneeling on a public street and meowing. "What do cats dream about, anyway?"

"World domination," Dream says solemnly.

"Haha," Hob says, but Dream doesn't take it back.

"Alright, I'm channeling megalomania," Hob tells him, shutting his eyes. "I'm channeling my inner despot."

"And an imposing one at that," Dream observes, looking down at him.

"Quiet, subject, can't you see I'm in the middle of ruling with an iron fist? Or paw?"

"I am quaking in my boots," Dream says. "Please, show mercy."

Hob squints back up at him. God, he's really trying, but it's hard. Cats live close to humans, but they are still so alien. Off in their own worlds, their own battles and hierarchies.

"Will it work if I lick you?" he asks. "Like how cats groom each other."

Dream blinks at him, once, twice, slowly, catlike, which he must be doing intentionally, because he's a bastard like that. "This is, as I believe you would say, getting odd."

Yeah, it is getting fucking odd.

"Perhaps you should try imagining my female form," Dream suggests, and if Hob weren't already on all fours on the sidewalk he'd have fallen over. "It is human, and may be easier."

"You have that?" Hob squeaks, scrambling back to his feet. "But I thought it was like, a species perspective thing? Do women just see you as a woman, then?" Then he shakes his head. "No, that's way too simplistic."

"Women can see me like this as well," Dream says. "Or however their culture dictates."

"So why would someone see you as one gender or another, then? Just a culture thing? Preference?"

"Why do some people see God as a woman?" Dream asks the air.

Hob groans. "You are impossible."

Dream smirks.

"Or maybe you just like being unknowable," Hob guesses.

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps. Yeah, perhaps. I'm sure." Hob cracks his knuckles. "Alright, my unknowable cosmic entity of a significant other, let's see if I can turn you into a woman."

Dream stares at him flatly, but Hob can see the slightest uptick at the corner of his mouth.

Hob still doesn't know what exact perspective he needs to see Dream as a woman. Maybe if he just believes really really hard he can make it happen. Force of will. It's how he'd always planned to make himself immortal, anyway, absent a fortunate encounter with one prickly dream entity.

He stops looking at Dream, and tries to look through Dream. Tries to imagine how it feels to see the true depths of his eyes, how the cosmos in them go straight to infinity. He tries to see around the way the light reflects off of and shapes Dream's form to the shape within, like a sculptor seeing the body in the marble before it's carved. Hob is no artist, but he tries.

And he knows Dream. He may not know all these angles on his form, but he knows Dream, the entity, the person. They have had a long friendship, Hob and the concept of dreaming.

And just like that, the perspective shifts. For a split second, Hob sees an infinity before him, the eternity of all existence condensed in all its brilliant, glowing facets--then his brain skids around it to avoid going mad, latches onto an angle, and slams back to earth.

Hob sways, rubs at his eyes, and then laughs hysterically. "Fuck!"

"Hob?" Dream sounds uncertain now. "Are you well?"

"I think I just glimpsed cosmic knowledge never meant for my mortal eyes, or whatever," Hob tells him, somewhat maniacally. His ears are kind of ringing, eyes swimming in the afterimages of a very bright light. "You're incredible, do you know that?"

"As you judge," Dream says.

Hob finally drops his hands from his eyes.

And immediately slaps them over his mouth, letting out a sound so high-pitched and manic he hadn't thought his vocal cords could manage it. "Holy shit."

Dream frowns. "Are you well?" he asks again. "Perhaps I should not have allowed--"

"I fucking did it," Hob whispers, mostly to himself. "Oh my God. You're a woman. I think? You look like one. I guess?"

Dream looks down at himself. Hob wonders what he sees--does he see what Hob sees? Or does he see the incomprehensible mass of everything that he truly is under the human trappings?

"Ah," he says, and presses a single fingertip to one of the breasts that he now has, prodding it curiously. "It appears that I am."

Okay, so he can see what Hob sees. Good to know.

"Yup," Hob says. He can't seem to steady himself whatsoever. "Yup, yup. You are."

"Impressive, Hob," Dream remarks, looking up at him again with a smirk. His jaw is narrower now, his lips plusher, but God, it's that same fucking smirk that drives Hob insane.

Hob wonders if Dream's female form is also bound by some limitations on appearance the way his usual form is. He hopes so, because it if turns out he managed to manifest Dream's tits to fit his own subconscious desires, he might just have to choose Death at last.

Hob still has his hands over his mouth. He makes himself drop them.

Dream frowns at his silence. "Are you not pleased?"

"I'm very shellshocked and reorienting my view of the universe," Hob tells him. "Also, you're very beautiful and it's just a lot all around."

That smirk again. Whatever minor amount of immunity Hob has developed over the centuries is obliterated by the new shape of him. "Ah."

"Ah," Hob echoes. "Can I kiss you?"

"You may."

Hob does so with his usual enthusiasm, perhaps more, as he does so love novelty. Dream tastes much the same, feels much the same to his hands, and yet not, like Hob's different perspective on him has altered the angle of his touch. Hob runs his hands indulgently over the softer curves of him, settling them on Dream's waist.

"Dear heart," he murmurs into Dream's mouth. "Most beautiful thing."

Dream makes a soft sound and rests his face against Hob's.

They stay there for a long moment, frozen in the middle of the sidewalk. Then Dream asks, "Would you have still kissed me if I was a cat?"

"On your little furry head, yes," Hob says, and pecks his cheek. "I thought you were a cat."

"I am," Dream says.

Hob groans. "Enough, I'm getting confused again. Let's stop with the metaphysics and go home and do something less headache-inducing."

"Like playing with the new toy you've found yourself?" Dream asks, raising an eyebrow, but obligingly lets Hob wrap an arm around his waist and tug him along down the sidewalk.

"Pretty much!" Hob agrees. "If you're amenable."

"I suppose I can bear it," Dream says solemnly, as though being kissed and coddled and worshiped is the greatest hardship of his eons-long existence.

Then he says, quietly, "You are singular, to perceive me thus."

"As..." Hob looks at him as they walk, looks at the elegant cut of Dream's cheekbone and the sweep of his eyelashes, the longer fall of his hair. "You mean, in more than one... facet?"

Dream nods. "You... see me. The truth of me. And still, you look upon me kindly."

"What other way is there to look at the one you've loved your whole life?" Hob asks, throat tight.

Dream leans into his side, and Hob presses a kiss to his temple, holding there for several steps. And he continues to hold him close as they go on, keeps his unfathomable boundless entity within the circle of his arms, where he can keep on fathoming him.

[arimiaromage]

thoughts about dgm chapter 251

gonna throw my thoughts about these new revelations here.

bookman jr or past!allen?

she got us good! I was in shock when I first read it (all my headcanons about pasta, out the window! thrown! chunked!) but now I'm more fine with it.

I believe what happened was that hoshino drew the bookman jr in those flashbacks with nea on purpose - she wanted us to think that was allen and bookman jr. the flashbacks aren't past!allen with longer hair, this is definitely the bookman jr, as we can tell now.

it also makes more sense now why "allen" was talking about high concepts like the spiral being the force for life - it really was a bookman!

I fully think she did this switcharoo on purpose. if we look at her most recent livestream (translated by ponkotsubluuues), someone comments that they were shocked past!allen and bookman jr weren't the same person. her response is basically "yes, I know". she's not surprised people would think that, this was probably deliberately on purpose.

bookman jr & past!allen

okay, now on to some thoughts on who they actually are. I won't stick long here as we'll probably find out in just a few months and we don't have much to go on right now.

personally, I don't really care to ever meet allen's blood relatives. it's never interested me who he's "actually" related to and I always felt it would add even more complicated feelings for him and even more complexity to an already messy as hell family & relationship tree.

that being said, I wouldn't be surprised if bookman jr and allen are some kind of family unit, be it blood related or not. when they begin talking about the two of them as separate people, lucia refers to them as "two young men". so they're probably not father and son, but I could see them as brothers or some sort of brotherhood if they're not blood related.

maybe past!allen is a traveling clown who toured the world with bookman jr LOL.....?

either way, bookman jr was so compelled to protect allen & nea that he gave his life for them. I'm so, so eager to see their bond.

cross marian

who the hell is cross marian in all of this?

we know the cross has been around since almost adam's time, having been with mana and nea since they were children-

so we know that regardless of who is he, he's known about and visited the campbell manor for decades.

in this chapter, they even bring him up by name.

not only does allen ask about him, but lucia talks a bit about him as well.

and note that they're not saying something like "my master left a message for me" and lucia just goes along with it- allen says "my master cross" and lucia continues by saying his full name. she knows exactly who he's talking about.

(allen specifically says "cross shishou" = "master cross" but lucia called him "cross marian")

to me, this is one of the main reasons I don't believe cross is bookman jr. I believe he's somehow tied to the bookman, but I don't think he's the missing jr. if he was, why does lucia refer to him as cross here but not later? she clearly knows who allen is referring to, so wouldn't the bookman have searched for cross and found him with relative ease, given he was at the order for quite a while with bookman & lavi up until apocryphos attacked him?

lucia and the master only refer to bookman jr as "junior", not cross marian. if you're desperately looking for cross marian and are fully aware allen knows who that is, then why not call him that? what do you have to lose at this point?

and furthermore, if cross was this bookman jr, how did he forget who HE made the host? how did he lose allen? redarm!allen looks a lot more like this new past!allen and they both have redish brown hair - if you were traveling with this guy, you should be able to recognize him even if he's de-aged like 8 years, ESPECIALLY once mana takes him in and his hair becomes styled the exact same way.

I know we always have the deus ex machina of apocryphos' memory changing but I really don't want that to be the case for every character, the more you do it the more it becomes a contrivance.

cross definitely has SOME connection to the bookman, I don't feel like his mask and knowledge of bookman things is entirely a red herring. lucia makes it sound like cross reached out to them regarding the campbell manor, but I'll get to that in a bit.

the other leading theory is that cross is cyrus campbell, katerina's brother and head of the family. I feel like this holds a bit more water than him being a bookman, as it'd explain why he was the campbell manor when mana and nea were so young (and presumably before nea became a noah) and why he has worked so tirelessly for both of them.

remember, his innocence maria greatly resembles katerina. it's possible this is katerina's corpse, being infested by innocence. maybe this is from innocence cross was carrying finding its way to her corpse or maybe it was a failed attempt to save her, we don't really know yet.

(I'm not fully convinced about the cyrus theory either though, as why does nea refer to cross as cross instead of cyrus or uncle? how would the order not know about his family and how obviously tied to the noah he is? how could he not recognize allen, his nephew's most trusted friend?)

there have been some theories that maybe the campbells are a bookman family, which may be the case and would help explain why cross has a connection to both, but the way lucia words this part makes me think otherwise.

she makes it sound like the campbell manor wasn't always under their jurisdiction, that it came to be that way but wasn't always. but that might be pulling at straws. I just don't think she'd word it this way if cross = bookman jr.

I'm not fully convinced about either theory about cross as I see holes in both of them. just have to wait and see~

personally I'd still like it if cross was just a childhood friend who got way too attached but we'll see 😂 or maybe he was just pining for katerina from afar....

crown clown

I feel pretty confident now that this is past!allen being hugged by bookman jr, possibly for the last time / as bookman jr's way to protect him.

but I also can't help but feel.... it reminds me of crowned clown, you know? the way it wraps around allen, covering him in an attempt to protect him. even the cut off tips. it really reminds me of that.

the bookman are no stranger to innocence. we also don't know when allen acquired his innocence- did past!allen have it? or...... did bookman jr give it to him as he was dying? did he think it would protect him and nea (and why would he give a noah innocence)?

I would not be surprised if there was some connection between bookman jr and allen's innocence.

allen

I absolutely loved this part.

the pure conviction in his face. no regrets. he finally has a chance to clear up his mind, to cast away the fear he's dealt with for so long about who he actually is. so, so good.

but........ WHO IS ALLEN WALKER????? the burning question. who knows at this point.

I'm very excited to see the next parts, even if it apparently isn't the 35 year flashback (her own words, from the aforementioned livestream) - I assume it'll be a flashback to past!allen meeting nea possibly, or them finding out nea isn't a typical noah, or some major event that happened before shit went down.

yeah that's about it, see yall next time ✌️