#dialogue? skipped but by god it had to he

[hyak-wixgar]

You ever skip so much dialogue because it makes more sense narratively to just go "fuck you in particular" . Like when you're already going to kill the kaiser and the fucking guy won't tell you shit

[elvirable]

Instincts

[ Astarion x f!Reader/Tav ] | ao3 link

rating: explicit | word count: 3.7k | status: complete themes/tags: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, feelings realization, denial of feelings, light angst at the end, you know the sex scene after the tiefling party?, yeah so this is it, with astarions pov, already catching feelings smh, smut is halfway through, just skip to after all early dialogue

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Little did he know that evening, that was the beginning of his simple plan crumbling apart.

In other words: Astarion has been struggling to balance century-long instincts with newfound feelings, an undeniable connection. He carries out his simple little plan as intended, but meets complications he didn't quite expect. ----------- A/N: so i hung up my cod medals of honor to write this.. i've been playing for a month now. originally posted without proofreading, but its now edited for grammar and some terms -----

It was hard not to have fun around you.

Something of a child-like giddiness would buzz through his nerves whenever you sauntered over, his marbled red eyes wouldn't dare to miss a beat of the vision you were. Swaying hips and that deceivingly coy face. Of course, you were strikingly beautiful – a wickedly delectable sight – but that wasn’t the only source of his carnal anticipation.

It was just you, the enigmatic little thing you were. 

Admittedly, Astarion believed he had read you like an open book the moment he laid eyes on you. It was an instinct of his: gathering a cerebral repository of notable ticks and body language, facial twitches, and octave changes in those around him. Watchful, constant observations.

He had chalked you up to a sort of stoic character at first. Graceful, to a degree, in your manner of subtly balancing the world around you. A stable composure, quick and quiet without brash or idle chatter.. unlike that Gale. You were a less flagrantly repulsive hero-type crafted in his mind – but he had still expected you to be oh-so predictable with a shallow drive for self-emaciating ‘justice’. Whereas the others wore their baggage like a garment, you held your cards close to your chest – like a chameleon suddenly thrust into the spotlight.

Yet the sun rose and fell two or three times around the wilderness of Elturel, when he found himself pleasantly contradicted. He normally didn’t dedicate much attention towards someone he believed he so easily pegged, but his interest began to pique. Just enough to leave him sitting with an edge and a consuming desire to peer in closer. 

Maybe it was the way your mouth twitched into a quiet smile during his verbal antics on the road or the firm passiveness you held from the blighted village to the drama of Emerald Grove; an intoxicatingly confusing blend of traits you harbored. The closer he watched you, the less blurred you became. You didn’t fear being authentic and enforcing boundaries to those who attempted to use you – but you weren’t cruel; you met the world around you just as it was, without discrimination. No unnecessary harm, no free handouts either. 

Or perhaps it was your sarcastic remarks that stirred what little glee he had in him; an especially delicious and refreshing insight into your humor. While he could care to give a critical note or two on your lack of blatant cruelty, Astarion respected your compelling demeanor; he witnessed how all these companions turned their eyes so frequently to you with decision.

But what he did know for sure was the eye contact.

Gods, the first time your heads swiveled mid-strife and your gazes locked with a rich crackle – the memory alone was enough to stupefy him! Something strange stirred, something that didn’t sit comfortably. He didn’t know  what to make of it.

With all this said, that same sensation boiled inside his stomach as he mulled over his every interaction with you. He recalled that moment of midnight – when all was still and you had caught him prepared to taste your throat. Your wary stare pierced through him, washing away briefly the desperate pangs of blood-thirst and left him feeling.. nervous. 

Ugh, how he despised the feeling. 

He was sickened when all those ledgers of observations caved in on himself, caught in his pale throat. He had taken such an overwhelming liking to you – to the extent, he had realized, that he was drawn to your guidance, your approval; a repulsive frustration at the time enough to coil through his cold veins. Without much to say, however, he was adamantly relieved when you conceded and soon regularly allowed him to drink from your slender neck. 

His trail of thoughts glossed over your stifled grunts onto the following morning: when you came to his defense as everyone felt the need to chime in with their unfettered prejudices. And how his ease, his excitement around you became persistently potent – a fresh energy that filled him as you spurred on his teasings and whims. Astarion noticed your subtle release of your ever-strong walls, just enough so he could relish in your humor and affable side.

There was always a hesitation at doting on the sensation that rose inside him at these thoughts of you. He surmised he was merely back in the practice; where he spun honeyed words and charmingly guile eye contact, to wrap his target around his finger. Any little edge of control he could grasp onto, the familiar taste of influence he used to know so well. These habits of two hundred years were kicking in. He’d play the part and – sooner or later – this eagerness to please would be reversed onto you.

Whether it was his own willful denial or the culmination of fate’s ever-spinning thread, the first crumble began the night of the tiefling party.

.

Cool and clear was the star-freckled night. Everything was too merry for him: the wide-toothed grins of the tieflings, sharp strums of the lute, the chatter. Even the wine was downright awful, pungent and tart like vinegar. 

Astarion would’ve normally indulged in his bitter mood, but it was the sight of your drunken smile that diffused his prior desire to complain.

How interesting, he thought as his eyes lapped up your squinted grin and eased laughter. It was helplessly infectious to see you so earnest, casually prattling on in conversation throughout the camp. 

Red eyes followed while you made your rounds, encouraging the tiefling’s dancing lights spell and conversing with the bard. Astarion even raised a brow at the playful expression that washed over your face as you spoke to the hulking druid by the name of Halsin.  When you strolled over to Shadowheart and he caught that carefully provocative glint in the raven-haired cleric’s eyes – a chord of jealousy grew taut inside his chest.

He had half the mind to feel insulted that you hadn’t wandered in his direction yet, but that was quickly dispersed when he noticed you dismiss yourself and head towards a wooden crate near the riverfront. 

Almost like a shadow, Astarion swept in your direction. Whether it was to merely take in your smile up close or to put his plan in motion, he settled on the latter. You were rifling through the crate that held what could barely pass as wine, muttering a quiet curse about the little tiefling probably pocketing a bottle or two.

“Here’s my little treat with her cheeks all flushed,” the words dripped from his mouth with a sweet cadence. “You will come to my bed tonight, won’t you?”

You swiveled at the sound of his voice, raised brow accompanying your hazy smile. The influence of wine lowered your usual wariness, and he caught the realization flutter across your face; there was no constitution in attempting to act reserved, especially with the rapport you two had grown. Amusement was written all over your face, hardly concealed – you had decided to play along.

“A little treat? You can do better than that.” 

“Oh, I certainly can. It would be my pleasure.”

He leaned closer, half-lidded eyes darkening and breath heavy with a mischievous delight. You watched him expectantly, reveling in what would pour from his lips.

“How about this one,” he loosened his posture, as if you both were stowed away from the entire world instead of dawdling along the outskirts of the shoddy camp. “All these accolades from the tieflings are nothing compared to the sound of my name, cried from your lips.”

Astarion watched the smile further spread across your soft lips, the wickedly sweet crinkle in your eyes while you crossed your arms. An exhilaration rose underneath his suave demeanor, even the bemused snicker invigorating.

“Is that the best you can do?” came your quick quip.

“Hmm, let me give it another go,” his voice was thick with arousal, a hungry glint in his eyes. “Every part of your perfect body whispers temptation – it’s as if the Gods made you just to ruin me.” 

His words clung to the air for a moment. The deliberate onslaught of poetic pleasantries laced with such ardent lust, the hum of the wine – Astarion studied your face swirling in thought. Heat had built up from the lower half of your body up to your cheeks, a quiet neediness wavering in your stance and threatened to boil to the surface of your skin.

Gods, you were thinking, it had been the longest time and you’ve been touch-starved.. more so under the urgency of all the trouble you had been thrust into. You never trusted a pretty boy, but you'd be damned if his flowered prose didn't stir something in you; you had never been the subject of such pursuits, real or not. Desire rushed through you, coiling in your stomach.

There was a beckoning in his eyes as they clutched onto yours, imporing you to draw closer, and his boyish features were even more alluring when caressed by the moon’s glow. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust those flowery words. They were tinted with an air of rehearse.

“Did these really work on Cazador’s targets?”

“Well, they’re working on you, aren’t they?”

A mild bashfulness buzzed through the warmth on your cheeks, as you couldn’t really deny it. 

“How about if I said these little words… everyone’s favorite,” Astarion continued, pausing for effect.

“I love you.”

Sly amusement colored his face. He had succeeded in riling up the intrinsic urge, no matter how much you tried to conceal it. How adorable you were when your gaze fluttered briefly.

“Having fun, are you?” you observed, smile holding on your lips.

As he had mused earlier, he was. It was hard not to whenever around you.  

.

Festivities settled down, the entire camp fast asleep once the wine crate had emptied and bellies were full. Only the chittering of crickets could be heard amongst the trees.

The forest, usually dressed in potent darkness, stilled beneath the moonlight. A serene, subtle beauty of the night – one Astarion was very accustomed to knowing, to living . He had done this so many times it had become second nature – the salacious rendezvous, the secrecy and fleeting thrill of them all. 

He had contemplated before, the image of you melting in the throes of pleasure. He wondered whether you preferred his hands gentle or rough, what sounds would dribble from your lips – if they sounded as sweet as you tasted. 

Though nothing could prepare him for the reality, which far surpassed fantasy; the pretty little thing you were, bare figure caressed by the lowlight, slowly making your way towards him.

“There you are. I’ve been waiting.”

You offered him a coy smile, cheeks still warm and rosy. An ache rushed between your legs at the sight of him sauntering forward, his well-formed broad physique. Lean, yet muscular – and the soft details of his appearance; the crease of laughter lines, the curl of his lashes. Just the anticipation of it all served enough to make you wet.

“Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you,” he leaned closer, desire coating every syllable.

“You don’t have me yet,” you matched the pulse of his words, emanating a playfulness to goad him on further.

Greedy lips suddenly met yours, and you were pressed against the tree trunk. His palms gripped the back of your thighs, swift dexterity almost catching you off guard. You instantly melted, like a puddle, in his grasp; your soft lips just as eager, skin aching and impatient for his touch. You never realized how sensitive you were, how truly touch-starved until you fought the gasp that escaped your throat.

Astarion didn’t waste a beat, carefully laying you onto the grass below while he drawled slow kisses along the curve of your neck. Fervent yearning permeated from your skin; you wanted more, and he was prepared to give you everything .

He drank in the sight of your arousal, eager to please you yet potently roused from the position he was in: you were such a delectably pretty thing sprawled beneath his weight, completely bare and vulnerable. Wide eyes bashfully beckoning him to just taste you.

“Part those precious legs for me, beautiful.” He directed, his voice less of a growl this time – instead more sweet. Soft. 

You could feel your face heat up further at his words, following his command without hesitation. Tender hands trailed along the soft skin of your thigh, his intense eyes briefly leaving yours to watch his fingers lingered over your folds – you were glistening with slick , fevered arousal.

“Oh my, you’re already so wet for me.”

His voice was almost a whisper now, as a keen excitement rushed through his veins. A twitch pressed against his briefs, his cock already hard and eager especially when his eyes darted towards your rosy. So willing, ready to indulge his every whim. For a moment, he settled in your vulnerability – a sight he didn't expect to see. You were always full of such delicious surprises.

He shook the thought from his mind, allowing a sly smile to return to his lips.

“Who knew you were so needy?”

Your cheeks flushed, timid lips scrambling to form a defensive retort before he slipped two fingers inside. Only a quiet gasp left your mouth as your soaking warmth struggled to adjust, tightening around his digits. You were barely able to comprehend the words he said, instinctively bucking your hips.

“ Astar ..” your breath hitched before you could even finish, when his fingers began a slow pace. Teasingly slow, you would beckon, but there was nothing you could even fathom whispering anymore. Your walls began to clench, eager to receive his unwavering attention.

Hums of pleasure pulsed through your every nerve, rapidly as he fastened the curling pace of his fingers. Every hitched and quiet whimper encouraged him, his palm soaked with your slick. He relished the sight of your round breasts rising and falling feverishly, your heat clenched around him – his cock further hardened, precum no doubt pooling on the fabric of his briefs. 

All you could manage was to focus on the pleasure mounting between your legs, thighs now quivering with anticipation. His thumb slid up to your swollen clit, never breaking pace, to draw teasingly slow circles. He adjusted his weight to lean closer to your face, the sudden attention causing an overwhelming shyness to press your eyes shut. Your thighs trembled more now while his fingers beckoned and lured your pleasure to spur closer and closer.

“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice the gentlest you’ve ever heard. 

He couldn’t place the sensation – of feeling entranced in a sense, when whimpers of pleasure fumbled from your beautiful lips. Astarion almost felt lost, nearly mesmerized, when you kept those pretty eyes trained on his. He could feel his eyes soften at your vulnerable stare, and all at once everything inside him craved to slide into your warmth. To feel you melt into him, to hit every right spot to make you sing, for every sweet prayer cascading from your lips to be for him.

“Mmf..” You were left in a sudden foggy haze, a mix of pleasure and confusion when he abruptly withdrew his fingers. You couldn’t fathom any words to speak, only furrowed your brows in a hazed and disorientated manner.

“I’m sorry, love.” His breathless laugh seemed dazed before the low, heaviness returned to his tone, “You were practically just begging with those lovely eyes of yours.”

He leaned downwards to plant soft, reassuringly delicate pecks across the nape of your neck; each a mantra to affection, leaving a buzz in their wake. Carefully he peeled down his briefs with a wasted moment to rub his eager cock against your slick warmth.

Your moans sounded even sweeter closer to his ear, and a delighted sigh pressed from his lips onto your skin. His throbbing cock was met with some resistance as the length and girth was suffocated by your tightening walls, warm spasms at the sensation being filled. 

A guttural, low moan hummed from his throat. Fuck, you were so perfectly tight.

His cock pulsed at the sudden attention, aching with pleasure and a warm buzz radiating through his skin. He paused for a moment, needing to relish every second it felt to be now pressed so deep inside you. The softness of your skin, delicate cues of pleasure washing over your face, how your warm walls enveloped his cock.

You moaned as he pushed more of his length inside your needy warmth, tears beginning to well up in the corner of your eyes. Pleasure and slight pain blurred, the tip of his cock almost pressed against your soft cervix and a rouse of heat traveling up your spine. 

His hands gripped the globes of your ass to adjust his leverage, slowly but deliberately digging his hips against yours with each thrust. His body was achingly ready, alive with frantic urge. He was incapable of any pretty words to whisper, tangled groans replacing his usual velvet tongue.

As he pounded quicker into your warmth, your pulsating soft walls sucked his cock tighter and deeper with each buckle. He nestled his head into the nape of your neck. Sweat formed on his pale forehead as he wrestled with his restraint, his cock stroking in and out, hitting pleasure points you never knew existed and relishing in your shameless cries – desperate for him.

Soft, warm pleasure unraveled across you in hot waves. If you had the mind, you could only hope that no one could hear you two – the sounds and wet smacks of his skin colliding against yours – but all you could do was turn your pleasured cries and whimpers into soundless gasps.

Your lips parted, hips bucking before your back arched from the ground. Every fiber of your body attempted to get closer to him, and his to you. Of some act of grace, your hand caressed his face, lifting him to face yours.

Oh, how he wanted to melt right there. 

Eager eyes met each other, brows furrowing together into a soft, tender stare. Astarion’s hips began to buck erratically for a moment as he struggled to regain his resolve. Once steadied, he continued to bury deeper into you in every perfect way. You were clenched so tightly, so divinely around him while his name trickled as a whisper from your lips. 

“You – fuck .. “ you couldn’t be bothered to form a proper sentence, every whim of comprehension overwhelmed by new heights of white pleasure. You were lulled into a stupor, and his grip tightened at your garbled pleas.

“Thaaat’s it,” Astarion practically begged, voice ragged, his eyes never leaving your beautiful face as it twisted with sweet expressions. An eagerness gnawed inside him, to push you to the edge of your pleasures. You were so perfect while you cried his name, taking all of him so well. 

“Come for me, sweet girl –” Hushed and delicate was his tone, only causing you to surrender any inhibition.

Heat wound tightly in your abdomen, lashes wet with the tears trailing down your warm face. Every nerve was wound so tight, finally snapping into a rush of white hot pleasure that left your skin flushed and tingling. You tried to whine out his name, but it spilled out into broken gasps as you reached your fingers to grip his silver curls. 

His hips began to stagger, riding out your pleasure until he could no longer postpone the succumb to pleasure. They lost their rhythm, and a low moan rumbled from his throat as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of your tightening walls, pressing into you.

You could feel his cock throbbing in you, as your nerves are slow to fizzle from the glowing buzz, and it swelled. Your slick walls were overstimulated nearly by his desperate, choppy thrusts before a cry escapes his lips – his cum flooded into you, thick and hot. He felt waves of warmth, so real and alive. So helplessly right.

The air was silent, as you both collected your breaths in hurried gasps. Astarion peeled his weight off of you only to roll onto his back, by your side. Your body felt light and completely slack, almost boneless as you sunk into the earth underneath you. Aftershocks of pleasure still rippled throughout your nerves. 

Both of you laid sweaty, flushed, exhausted, lacking the energy to care. You broke the silence with a wobble in your voice.

“Fuck, you came inside me..” you stated the obvious, reeling from pulsing nerves and vision hazy. 

“I’m sure the druids have something that’ll take care of that..” Astarion said breathlessly, extending an arm to wipe the sweat glistening off his forehead. 

He waited for a quiet laugh or a retort, but neither came.

Turning his head, he was met with the vision of your exhausted figure fast asleep. Slowly your chest rose and fell, face at ease – a vulnerability he had only seen when you were in deep sleep, if you weren't tossing and turning.

The quiet sat with him while he attempted to gather his thoughts, his experience. He had seen an entirely different side of you – exposed delicate. Part of his conscience pooled with guilt. 

He had a plan. A nice simple plan. It wasn’t foreign to casually bed strangers, seducing and manipulating them into following his every whim. Hells, this had been routine for two hundred years . The count was lost on how many nights he spent using people like ragdolls, only to be lured back into the hands of Cazador.

Astarion returned his gaze to the stars glistening above, attempting his best at reducing it to the odd circumstances or perhaps he was simply out of practice. 

Regardless – even if it was more than a fluke – he had already fucked things up. The thought felt tainted now, uneasy and riddled with remorse. 

Little did he know that evening, that was the beginning of his plan crumbling apart.

[genericpuff]

Lore Olympus just pulled off the biggest whiff in webtoon history.

I promised I would choose one of two headlines and of course, this is the one we wound up with. But should we really be surprised? Rachel herself seemed to be telling on herself down to the minutes leading up to the finale, fully confirming to us that yes, she's been writing this comic at the last minute, by the seat of her pants, for ages now.

(that second one was literally posted TWENTY FUCKING MINUTES BEFORE THE COMIC UPDATED.)

Welp, let's get into it. Possibly the last essay I'll ever write about this dumpster fire of a comic (but probably not, let's be real LOL)

CONTENT WARNING: DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT AND FASTPASS SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES FINALE AHEAD!

Holy crap, where to even start with this. I knew it was going to be bad. I knew it was going to be rushed. I knew it wasn't ever going to live up to what I had hoped it would be years ago when I was still a diehard fan.

But I didn't think it was going to fall quite this hard. Despite bracing myself for the worst, Rachel has once again let my expectations down through a final display of explosive mediocrity and disappointment.

Yes, the episode is called "You're Welcome", and yes, that instant "ick" you're feeling is the exact same as what we're all feeling. This title plays into the dialogue later, but what a shitty, lowkey mean-spirited title for the series finale.

Now, before we get into the actual episode, the WT ads for this are just... so desperate and misleading.

They are trying SO HARD to hype up something that isn't there, and at the last minute to boot, because Rachel definitely hadn't written any of this ahead of time.

First off, the bit about the gods being in "eternal chaos" of course isn't a stake worth worrying over because Gaia literally does away with Ouranos in the first 5 panels.

Did you really think I was joking about that 5 panels thing?

That's it. That's the death of Ouranos. As mysteriously and quickly as he arrived, he was gone, after Gaia ripped out of him what appeared to be some purple sunny side up - but it's actually, in fact, Apollo.

And that's when we start to get some of the worst dialogue I've ever seen throughout LO. Remember when I said LO's dialogue was like Shenmue 3? Welp, the finale decided to continue that tradition and further fuel the suspicion that this entire thing was written by ChatGPT.

Oh, by the way, that "thank you, ma'am" was Artemis' first and last line of the episode. So once again, just like in Episode 248, we're completely robbed of her reaction to Apollo being a rapist piece of shit and the character development she could have had as a supporting character. The women in this "feminist retelling" really couldn't be more half-baked.

Gaia stumbles upon Persephone, and I'm not even gonna fucking bother showing the panels where Gaia says it's time to "make things right" because they literally don't matter. Why don't they matter? Because Rachel just had to get in one more pointless time skip.

We're shown a sequence of pointless images that I'm not gonna show as I don't want to waste my image limit on them, depicting Hades having a sad day because his small wife isn't with him and oh nooo what could have happened?? Did Persephone finally divorce him ??

Nah, we couldn't possibly have an actually happy ending in this comic. Instead we get a completely pointless phone conversation between Hades and Hecate-

Not only is the grammar particularly bad in this episode, but the actual script-writing is atrocious. We literally did not need this phone conversation to happen because-

-we're cutting BACK TO THE PRESENT THAT WE JUST CUT AWAY FROM FOR A 3 MONTH TIME SKIP. FOR NO REASON BESIDES SHOWING HADES BE SAD OVER SOMETHING THAT ACTUALLY ISN'T THAT BIG A DEAL, AS YOU'RE ABOUT TO SEE.

I- I LITERALLY HAVE NO WORDS. I HAVE NO WORDS TO DESCRIBE WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS. ALL I CAN HEAR IN MY BRAIN IS THE LEGEND OF ZELDA ITEM GET MUSIC-

-BECAUSE THIS WHOLE THING SUDDENLY SOUNDS LIKE SOME CONTRIVED FETCH QUEST. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HADES AND PERSEPHONE HAVE PROVEN 'TRUE LOVE' IS REAL? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY HAVEN'T USED 'LOVE' AS A FORCE FOR DESTRUCTION?? ARE WE FORGETTING THAT HADES MUTILATED A GUY IN THE NAME OF 'LOVE'? THAT PERSEPHONE LITERALLY INVADED THE HOME OF HADES' CANONICAL FIRST WIFE BECAUSE SHE FELT MILDLY THREATENED BY HER?

This whole concept of "true love" that Rachel is trying to convey feels so juvenile especially for a series that has sold itself as being mature and thought-provoking and progressive.

HAHAHA SO FUNNYYYYYYY why does Rachel write like this. this is, at best, the writing of a 13 year old on fanfiction.net, which I SHOULD KNOW, because I WAS ONE OF THEM. BUT I'M 28 NOW AND RACHEL HAS ANOTHER 10 YEARS ON ME.

Okay, this is the part where I'm CONVINCED Rachel either just mashed this into the episode in the MINUTES leading up to its release, or she used ChatGPT or something. Because NONE of this dialogue makes any sense. Beyond how stilted and lifeless it is (seriously, this dialogue reads like something from Empress Theresa) Gaia is clearly meant to 'replace' Erebus here which I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO EVEN EXPLAIN IS SO FUCKING DUMB, but ALSO what is even Persephone trying to communicate here? "That is true, but it was a deal I was willing to make and ties me to the Underworld. Please don't change me." What? Gaia hasn't even insinuated that she's going to do anything to Persephone, why is Persephone immediately jumping to this conclusion? What does 'changing' her mean? Is she asking Gaia not to force her to sacrifice something (which she never did)? Or is she asking Gaia not to strip her of her Underworld status? Because again, why is that even something Gaia would do?

Maybe this is harsh but I'm pretty sure even Empress Theresa is more coherent than this, what in the flying fuck is Gaia talking about?

"I can just see the potential for conflict! To relieve you from the burden of the whats, the hows, and wheres." Like... okay, first of all, that second sentence isn't even a complete sentence, it's a dependent clause left hanging, but also what the fuck does this MEAN. Is she EXCITED for the conflict but then contradicting herself by saying she wants to relieve Persephone of that conflict? Or is she saying she can see the conflict it would cause for Persephone to have to perform duties in both realms and trying to insinuate that she's going to relieve her of those complications?

Here's what I think happened - I think that second 'sentence' wasn't supposed to be a sentence, but the start of the sentence to the next panel-

So with that theory in mind, the sentence becomes, "To relieve you from the burden of the whats, the hows, and wheres, you are to spend three months in the Mortal Realm to do spring and the rest of the year in the Underworld. That seems fair to me."

It's still a very poorly written line of dialogue, but at least with that fix in mind it makes sense. But man, you can really fucking tell this episode was submitted at the last minute because that's a serious syntax error that should NOT have happened in this two-time-Eisner-winning comic.

Errors aside, it's clear that Rachel is following through on having Persephone spend only three months in the Mortal Realm, rather than the traditional six. There ARE other translations that have that number closer to four, but those four are the time she spends in the UNDERWORLD, meaning she's always spending either equal or MORE time in the Mortal Realm. Of course, Rachel doesn't want her self-insert small wife power fantasy to actually have to be separated from Hades despite this being a retelling of The Abduction of Persephone, so instead of her spending three months in the Underworld, she's now spending them in the Mortal Realm, literally doubling the MINIMUM amount of time (four months) she was originally meant to reside in the Underworld.

But oh no, apparently those three months are STILL NOT SHORT ENOUGH FOR PERSEPHONE-

Of course, Rachel "Retcon" Smythe had to have her cake and eat it too. I always worried something like this was a possibility, but I never thought she would actually prove me right - not only is Persephone only separated from Hades for three months out of the year, but actually he can visit her any time he wants to, so really, they're not separating at all.

I think Rachel needs to look up "reunion" in the dictionary, because if you can visit each other any time, then that means the 'reunions' are no longer special occasions. This completely removes any semblance of depth or meaning from all of the storytelling leading up to this, all of it with the expectation that this was a retelling of the Abduction of Persephone, because that's what Rachel said it was going to be. At this point it's safe to say that Rachel has zero business attempting to "retell" mythological stories, because she doesn't even seem to grasp the concept of why they were written the way they were to begin with. Either that, or she really just doesn't care, and the only reason for making LO a Greek myth comic at all was to propel her career.

This also brings me back to those promotional ads, the other one that posed the question, "Will sacrifice be enough to bring these two back together?"

This is stating the obvious, but I need to make it perfectly clear - Hades and Persephone have never sacrificed a single thing. The only thing they could POSSIBLY quantify as a "sacrifice" is "not being tied at the hip for a few hours", because even Persephone going on the equivalent of a work trip next door is apparently enough to make Hades sad as we saw in the 3 month time skip panels. Why is Hades so sad and lonely if he can visit her any time? Why is he acting like he hasn't seen her in years when he's actually on his way to reunite with her? Why is Hecate calling to ask him if he's "okay" as if he JUST got separated from her, but actually he's about to literally go to the Mortal Realm to reunite with her?

Hades hasn't 'sacrificed' a damn thing, neither has Persephone. They've both always gotten exactly what they wanted, even at the cost of breaking the story's own established rules. Their 'sacrifice' is equivalent to what billionaires think are 'sacrifices' when they can't buy another yacht or go on that third overseas vacation for the month.

And even outside of this episode, when have these two ever sacrificed anything?

I've tried so hard to think of what sacrifices have been made by the characters within LO, and I genuinely can only think of one - and that was when Artemis chose to go to the Mortal Realm with Persephone instead of staying with her family in Olympus. That was a genuine, selfless sacrifice, made by a character who has been shelved in favor of focusing on the self-centered pink and blue airheads.

Being forced to be apart for a couple days to do the equivalent of a day job and whining about it the whole time is not a 'sacrifice'. Neither of these characters have ever sacrificed anything, they just feel like sacrifices because they have the integrity and empathy of soggy cardboard.

sigh Anyways, we're back in the present and Hades and Persephone immediately decide they're gonna have sex because ofc, and then we get this gem of a panel-

MMMMMM

FUNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY JOKE

For some reason it's just a common thing for people to just be in Hades' home, and they can't seem to get any privacy as a result of this, but I digress. Turns out they still need to have that coronation for Persephone.

There is... so much wrong in these three panels.

First, to state the immediate issues - why the fuck are they mentioning Apollo at Persephone's coronation? Like first of all, no shit Apollo isn't gonna be there, but also, if this is supposed to be an event for and about Persephone becoming Queen of the Underworld, then why in the WORLD is Apollo even being mentioned? This is supposed to be a "feminist retelling" where the victims are empowered and heal from their trauma, but LO once again can't try to show any sort of positive growth for the victims without bringing up the assaulters and giving them screen time. It just goes to show that Rachel's idea of "healing" is purely rooted in the revenge, and not the growth. It's a very high schooler approach to this subject, hellbent on showcasing how all the meanies from the past are losers now and life just sucked for them forever, but inadvertently proving its own point that the victims haven't and can't move on because the narrative is spending so much time on caring what's going on with the abusers. It's the "I don't care! Look at how little I care! I'll prove it to you by putting in the effort of showing you how little I care!" approach, it doesn't really feel like moving on.

It's not about how Persephone and his other victims could have grown and healed, no, Rachel always needs to highlight just how much worse the bullies and haters and abusers are doing to make the victims seem like they've healed by comparison. Don't get me wrong, I can understand wanting to showcase the downfall of a character like Apollo, but this just... isn't the right context for that? Because it's once again taking attention away from the victim to focus on the abuser. It's once again spending screentime on the voices of the oppressors rather than the oppressed.

And speaking of, what the fuck is this punishment even? I knew Rachel wasn't gonna be able to resolve this plotline properly, she never had the capability to, but ... community service? Are you fucking for real? What is this even a punishment for even? Was this EXCLUSIVELY the SA, or does this ALSO include his attempts to overthrow Zeus by poisoning him, nearly killing Daphne, Eris, Eros and Psyche, trapping Eros and Psyche in an enchanted basement, and framing his father's 'death' on his half-sister? Because if so, how in the world is anyone content with community service? He hasn't even been turned into a mortal, HE'S STILL A GOD, so what's to stop him from going "WE'LL MEET AGAIN, SPIDERMAN" and trying something else? How is this a reasonable resolution in ANY context?

This is why I talked at length about what an issue it was to hide what Apollo really admitted to. Because now we really don't know what exactly he confessed to, and thus we can never really see the point of views of the victims outside of just Persephone - and we still don't even get Persephone's, because she just walks away from him and then he gets eaten by Ouranos and next we see of him is him doing community service! Once again, any emotional development that could be given to Persephone and the other victims is stripped away to make room for the point of views of the oppressive men. In this, the two-time-Eisner-winning "feminist comic" that is LO.

And that brings us to the "where are they now" segment. Yes, as we all feared, there's a "where are they now" segment, and it's as rushed and underwhelming as we ought to have expected it to be.

There is just... so much to unpack here, and yes, all of it is delivered in the dumbest way possible that only raises more questions than answers.

So Rhea and Metis are just back and we're not gonna talk about the implications of them being alive again?

Dionysus is a 3 month year old in the body of a teenager / young adult, and his mom is just alive now because Hades conveniently got his hands on more ambrosia and brought her back to life offscreen? But somehow Triptomelus and Hedone are still child-sized relative to their ages?

How did they 'heal Zeus'? And why is he so content with losing his power as King and Apollo being sentenced to community service after making an attempt on his life? How does he feel about the letter that Hera gave him? Did he even read it?

Where the fuck is Hebe in all of this? Is she okay? Do people still think it was her who put Zeus in a coma? Or did Apollo confess to that, too?

You're telling me Hera and Echo are just in a relationship now despite the fact that Hera is literally racist towards nymphs and there is ZERO reason for them to have a relationship in the comic beyond the fans making gratuitous headcanons out of it? How is Rachel, a bisexual woman, so bad at writing actual lesbian relationships and giving them the same amount of attention as the heterocis ones without shoving them into the background as props for insincere queer rep? And what about Hera herself? How did she overcome her role as the Goddess of Marriage to finally divorce Zeus?

"Ares is still a dog!" Haha! Ares is still a Persephone simp! Happy end!

Why is Eros just standing there smiling at the camera struggling to be seen past Hedone who's just floating right in front of him? You're telling me there wasn't a better place to put her out of that entire panel?

"Hades and Thanatos have been making more time for each other. Sometimes they even have a conversation." I'm sorry, is this supposed to be funny? The man abused Thanatos for years, treated him as just a lowly employee when he was literally his adopted son, and now you're trying to play it off as a joke that they're "making more time for each other"? What the fuck is this?

TGOEM disbanded? Why? What about the women who were genuinely a part of it?

Also, Artemis and Selene are just good friends now because reasons? Because they're both affiliated with the moon, I guess? Why is Selene even in this comic-

"They are still looking for Kassandra". Who? And why? This feels like such a last minute addition to acknowledge a character that the comic spent WEEKS foreshadowing only to have her finally appear as a pointless McGuffin, but it's so last minute that it does nothing. I'm assuming it's Eros and Psyche looking for her, but like... why can't they find her? They're gods, tracking down one mortal shouldn't be that difficult LOL ???

And also, where the fuck is Leto?? You're telling me she was an accessory - maybe manipulating Apollo, maybe not - but we don't see what happened to her? Is she just back to being a social outcast then? jesus christ this comic isn't finished-

Kassandra is where the "where are they now" sequence ends, and we're treated to one final horribly written dialogue scene between Hades and Persephone, where they tell each other how much they love each other in a desperate attempt to convince the audience that this is, in fact, a romance.

There's this thing in romances called chemistry, and if you're good at writing it, you shouldn't have to write dialogue like this. You should be able to see how much the characters love each other through their actions, through their small behaviors around each other. It's not always about what they say out loud, it's about what they don't have to say, because when two people really share that close of a bond based on love and trust and chemistry, words often aren't necessary.

Hades and Persephone do not have that chemistry. It has been apparent for years now, but this final exchange really is the nail in the coffin. There are no microexpressions or subtle emotions, no subtlety in their word choice, and nothing unique setting their voices apart. It's all just "wow thank you for being such a wonderful amazing partner, you are amazing and I love you" word salad that has to do all the heavy lifting for the completely non-existent chemistry that's been at its absolute worst throughout this entire season.

And worst of all, despite this story trying so hard to be focused around Persephone, around her story, her trauma and her healing, her voice... it's still all just about Hades. In the end, she's thanking Hades, and forcing him to say "you're welcome". All of it is trying so hard to convince us that Hades has been a positive addition to her life, that she 'owes' so much to him, but we've obviously seen plenty throughout the comic that begs to differ. And even if he were a better person than he is, it still doesn't change the fact that once again, the men are being held up above the women, with the women being grateful to the men who choose them. LO can try its hardest to convince people that it's feminist, but it is, at best, reinforcing the very same structures of the patriarchal system that it claims to despise and rebel against.

We do get one line from Hades acknowledging Persephone's part in the relationship-

-and it falls so fucking flat because it's still about him and what she does for him, and because nothing about their relationship was built on any sort of organic chemistry. There was a lot more chemistry back in S1, but it was still predicated on Hades lusting after a vulnerable 19 year old girl.

Yep, and that's it. That's the end.

Except it isn't because Rachel wanted to try and be smart by including an 'epilogue' that's really just stretching the episode out pointlessly for another few panels. And of course, we had to get another time skip, just a final dose of salt in the wound, this time to years ahead when we inevitably had to reconnect with Persephone and Hades in the future after Melinoe was born.

To recap, Melinoe doesn't remember... because Hades had Morpheus erase her memories.

This plotline has really started to give me the ick because it actually feels very familiar. Bear with me here, because I'm gonna go on a bit of a tangent about my own original work, but it's because I wrote a plotline exactly like this years ago.

There's this... turning point, in Time Gate: Reaper, when the main character Uzuki is kidnapped by a Reaper (see: undead) who wants to experiment on her in the hopes that he can somehow gain her abilities to bond her soul with others (which later allows her to literally possess people after she becomes a Reaper herself). Mitsuhiro, the male deuteragonist who kickstarts the plot by telling Uzuki she's got a limited amount of time left to live (which he knows thanks to his magical death timers that mark themselves on his skin), feels an immense amount of guilt after finding out she was kidnapped by the Reapers (at this point she's been gone for three months), as they were originally after him; he worries that she was made a target simply due to him associating himself with her, and vows to rescue her.

With the help of some other spunky teenagers and anime trope characters, Mitsuhiro does eventually rescue Uzuki - but for the three months she had been gone, she had been tortured, abused, and experimented on, causing her mind to split and for her to lose any sense of awareness of who Mitsuhiro or her other friends were. She was no longer herself after the hell she had been through.

Mitsuhiro's solution to this is to have Springlock - another Reaper with motivations that are not yet clear to the cast - erase her memory. This is not a light decision that comes without consequences - for the remaining duration of the story, Uzuki is plagued by night terrors and panic attacks, unable to really remember what happened to her aside from whatever brief flashbacks her brain recalls in its haze of memory loss. She is traumatized, both physically and mentally. She has lost three months of her life and memories, and doesn't know how to explain why she's covered in scars that are still healing, why she's missing organs, why she's now blind in one eye, and why the sound of scraping metal and ticking clocks gives her panic attacks. Mitsuhiro has convinced her friends that she's suffering from memory loss due to trauma, but only he knows the truth that he forcefully took her memories away from her, without her consent. This was not the right choice to make. It was not noble of him, it was not a grand gesture of love, he made a decision on her behalf without her consent that has now resulted in her becoming a nervous wreck. Sure, she still would have had PTSD if she remembered what happened, but at least she would know why and could then seek adequate help. Without those memories, she has nowhere to begin to heal. And so we see the consequences of this throughout [AFTERBIRTH] and even the upcoming Thread of Fate. It is a long-term problem that is not going to be solved overnight, especially not with Mitsuhiro withholding information from her.

Reading about Melinoe having dreams about her experiences trapped in Tartarus with Kronos ... it felt familiar enough that I had to talk about why the insinuations of this are so fucked up. I know there are people who are gonna handwave it away as "she's just a kid", "these are gods so what does it matter", etc. but ... it just feels like such an oversight to have Hades effectively erase her memory of her trauma and then hint at them still being present in her mind through her dreams. She did not ask for that. And the fact that she's now dreaming about it all does not bode well. But we're supposed to think Hades made the correct choice, regardless.

But none of this is effectively expanded on or explained, because we get one final scene of Melinoe and Demeter visiting Persephone, who has just given birth to... Makaria?

So it turns out Persephone and Hades are just able to have biological children now. Don't know why, but of course they both look exactly like Hades.

What I was really confused by though is the fact that it's Makaria and not Brimos. Do you remember Brimos? The child that was foreshadowed in Hades' original fantasy dream sequence about his future children about Persephone?

Either Rachel completely forgot about him, or she saw all the criticism over the fact that Brimos isn't a confirmed child of Hades and Persephone (rather, an epithet that can apply to basically any Underworld god including Persephone and Hades) and that her "research" was dependent on a book she read when she was 13 and decided to axe that. But she went to the effort of establishing that all the dreams Hades had were , in fact, canon visions of the future, so good job Rachel, you created yet another plothole on top of the hundreds of others.

And that's where the series ends, on a final nuclear-family-photo of Persephone, Hades, Melinoe, and Makaria. Of course, Dionysus and Thanatos aren't present in this shot because this is Lore Olympus and only biological children count /hj

Why Rachel couldn't move the "the end" portion to THIS part, I don't know, but I'm also expecting way too much of the person who finished this 20 minutes before it was due.

So that's it. Six years and that's what we get. I didn't expect much, but I was still incredibly disappointed, as were many others who walked away from this dazed and confused. Maybe it's all the "haters" deserve at this point. But what of the fans? While many of them are celebrating this ending at best and tolerating it at worst, I can't help but think of the fans of this comic who hung on for so long in the hopes it would "pay off", just for it to go out as gloriously as a wet fart.

As for me, I have such mixed feelings about Lore Olympus ending, but none of them pertain to the comic itself. Most of what I'll miss from this comic isn't the comic itself, but the people who have made reading it every week so fun, the artists and writers who have enriched the content with their own interpretations of what could have been, and the experiences of being part of such an amazing community made up of people who are as long-term-obsessed about this piece of media as I am.

I get people who ask me a lot if it's "worth it" to be so engrossed in the LO slander, who assume that I'm going to "regret" ever being a part of it all... but from where I'm standing right now, I couldn't ask for a better view.

Even if I didn't love every minute of it, everything I have here I owe to this comic. This stupid, wonderful, boring, amazing, pile of shit comic.

[bucketslutz]

Don't Be Late (Professor Logan Howlett/Fem Student Mutant Reader)

A/N: This one's a doozy, don't know how I feel about most of Logan's dialogue in this one but oh well! Enjoy!

Chapter Summary: Awkwardness ensues when you arrive at Logan's class on Friday, finding no one there but him.

Warnings: 18+, mindors DNI!!!!, drinking, reader getting drunk, puking, swearing, light depiction of anxiety disorder, sexual harassment (nothing bad happens to reader, light harassment only)

Word Count: 4,712

Chapter 3

This is the fourth night this week you’ve masturbated to the thought of your professor. Unfortunately, your fingers don’t offer the same release that you’ve been seeking from Logan. Instead of relieving the pressure that spreads through your body, your orgasms leave you dissatisfied and in need of more relief. But you can’t. He’s your professor, and downright terrifying to speak to. He makes every hair on your body stand on end, like your body is in a constant state of flight or fuck. Plus, you’re pretty sure he hates you. He stares at you, makes rude remarks, and barely even pays you any mind. But, goddamnit, sometimes you swear his lips curl into somewhat of a smile when he sees you. And you haven’t seen him smile at much of anything. But you cannot misconstrue tolerance with infatuation. He just might hate you less than everyone else, which could be enough for you to get through the semester without anymore anxiety than you already have.

You turn over in bed with a huff and glare at the clock. 2:14 am. If only you spent as much time studying as you did masturbating, maybe you’d get your masters a year earlier. You almost fear going to sleep. Afraid that another dream will leave you hot and bothered in Logan’s class tomorrow, and you don’t like that he has that effect on you. You repeat a mantra as you doze off, I do not want to fuck Logan Howlett.

…

It’s been a good morning. You woke up, no explicit wet dream, with enough time to manifest a Colombian dark roast and one of the best breakfasts you’ve had in a while; which you enjoyed while watching the sunrise from your roof. For a brief moment, you considered flying to class. The weather was perfect, making you long for a place you could traverse the sky in peace without a worry of who might see you. You often find yourself dreaming of such a life. How freeing would it be to fly around the world, helping people in need, exploring areas unknown? As much as you daydream of this life, you still know deep down that your dream can never become a reality. No, every day you hear of someone else being killed just because they’re a mutant. Or others disappearing off the streets and thrown into secret government labs where they conduct god knows what kinds of tests on them. That’s not a reality you ever want to face. You don’t want to think about how the government might exploit your powers. The thought of them abusing the atomic structures you manifest to create weapons of mass destruction makes you sick. No matter how desperately you wish you could display your strengths for good, you can’t. And that breaks your heart.

Despite the unfortunate stifling of your powers, your morning still ends up going just as well as it started. You’ve timed your commute perfectly; slipping into your favorite parking spot with just enough time to walk to class, Colombian dark roast in hand. You open the door to Logan’s class, quickly stopping dead in your tracks once you see that not a single one of your classmates are here yet. You check the time on your phone, there’s only 3 minutes until class starts.

“I was beginning to think it was something I said,” Logan’s voice calls from the front of the room, his broad frame leaning against the white board., “Did everyone tell ‘ya to skip?”

You chuckle softly, “No, Logan, I think it was actually something you said.” He furrows his brow, you clarify, “Wednesday when you left class you sorta said ‘see ‘ya Monday.’ So I think people just got confused.”

“Huh, and I guess you’re here…” he trails off, wanting you to explain.

“The convenience store. You said you’d see me on Friday, so, I just assumed you misspoke the other day,” you conclude, your fingers fiddling with the lid on your thermos. He just stares at you for a beat, making your anxiety swell in your throat. Is he mad at me? I think he’s mad at me, you think to yourself, “Not that you messed up or anything! It’s definitely everyone else’s fault for not following up with you, or whatever.”

“Right,” he says, giving you an incredulous look. You definitely weirded him out. The way he’s looking at you makes your breath hitch, and not in a good way.

“Anyway,” you continued, setting your coffee on a nearby desk, attempting to drive the topic of conversation elsewhere, “I might as well give you this.”

You approach Logan slowly as you rifle through your shoulder bag in search of your essay. Your fingers anxiously fumble between each folder and binder in your bag, incapable of grasping anything. You halt your approach, digging deeper in your bag to find the folder containing your essay. Jesus Christ where the hell is it. You’ve been searching for hours, has it been hours? Or 15 seconds? You cannot tell because time has halted right here. Blue folder, blue folder, blue folder, you repeat to yourself, hoping your thoughts do something to pop the folder in your face. Finally, after years of searching, you’ve found it. You pull it out of your bag with a breath of relief, stepping forward as you intend to hand it to Logan. A gasp escapes your lips when you slam straight into Logan’s tall frame, stumbling backwards, nearly falling until hands grasp your waist and keep you upright.

“You alright?” Logan asks, his hands remaining fixed on your waist. You look up at him through your long eyelashes, your hands planted flat on his chest for support.  You cannot help the fluttering in your heart at your proximity to him, feeling your arousal swirling inside you at the feel of his strong hands holding you tightly. Logan stares at you from above, breathing heavily through his nose; his sharp, repetitive inhales almost sounding like a dog sniffing the air. You struggle to form a coherent thought, the only thing flooding your senses is the smell of Tobacco and pine emanating from Logan. Only a few seconds have passed, but as far as you know time doesn’t exist anymore. Logan loosens his grip on your sides, smoothing your jacket down with his hands before letting you go. You clear your throat, trying to shake the impure thoughts that are swarming your mind.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” you exhale, handing him the folder, “Um, my essay. Here you go.”

“Right, thanks,” he smirks as he takes it from you, “Don’t suppose you want to be the only one hearing my lecture today.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you affirm eagerly, watching Logan’s smile dissipate into a pursed line. He was joking, oh my god. Kill me. “Oh! You were kidding! No, I’d much rather be home right now. Definitely do not want to be here…with you.” Your words grew quiet towards the end, unsure if your recovery was even remotely smooth at all. If you could even call that a recovery.

“Oh, so you don’t want to be here with me?” he questions, his arms crossing over his stiff chest.

“No! No, no, of course I do, you’re lovely, I mean, not—I don’t hate you is what I’m saying. You’re lovely, as far as professors go,” you stutter, a clammy layer of sweat forming on the palms of your hands. He’s silent, his eyes burning a hole into your soul. Surely, he’s mad at you, “I would so love to sit and listen to you lecture, if you want, totally up to you. I’ll be here taking notes and listening if—“

Logan calls your name with a chuckle, interjecting your ramblings and bringing them to a halt.

“I’m just messing with ‘ya, bub,” he assures with a self-satisfied smile, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. You can tell he gets a lot of enjoyment out of making you uncomfortable, giving himself personal satisfaction every time you squirm under his gaze.

“Oh,” you mutter dejectedly, your face blushing red from embarrassment, “right, well, you sure got me.” You attempt a laugh to hide your anxiety. Fiddling with the strap of your bag, you try to focus on anything else than the tears of embarrassment that prick the corners of your eyes. You hate this feeling, someone making a fool of you just because of your gentle, people-pleasing demeanor. It makes you feel weak, even though you physically aren’t, but no one knows that. They just see a meek, quiet girl that they can walk all over and take advantage of.

“Shit, are you okay?” Logan asks, a surprising level of concern in his voice. His knees dip slightly, craning his neck to your level to try and meet you face to face. You keep your eyes to the ground, not wanting to embarrass yourself further by crying in front of your professor just because he teased you a little bit. You’re surprised to feel fingers grasp your chin, gasping as Logan lifts it to so you’ll meet his eyes. Tears haven’t fallen down your cheeks yet, but you’re sure you look embarrassing; flushed cheeks, watery eyes, parted lips inhaling air shallowly. Logan looks concerned, which surprises you. It seems out of character for him, considering he only speaks to cuss someone out.

“You look like you need a drink,” Logan says, not a hint of humor in his face, fully meaning this seriously and earnestly. Like it could solve all of your problems.

“I can’t drink I have class,” you whimper, slightly confused.

“Not now, later, here—you got a paper? Pen?” he asks as he drops his hold on your chin, holding his hand out while he waits for you to hand him what he’s asking for.

You nod, shuffling through your bag for a notebook and pen, retrieving it and handing it to him with a sniffle. He starts scribbling something on an empty page.

“9 o’clock,” he hands you the paper, an address is written on it, “go there, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Oh, no, I can’t ask you to do that,” you declined politely.

“You’re not asking me to do anything, I’m asking you,” he corrects, a firm tone in his voice making you nervous to say no. It’s almost as if he isn’t asking, merely telling you what you’re supposed to do, but disguising it as an ask to seem less brute.

“Okay, 9 o’clock,” you conclude, nodding your head in agreement.

…

What the hell are you doing here? This is inappropriate. This breaks multiple codes of conduct. But free booze? Who are you to decline an offer like that. The outside of the establishment is like any other mountain-town, backwoods, rural dive bar. It honestly wasn’t too far from where you live either, maybe you ought to give this place a visit more often. You step out of your car and approach the front door, lit with a neon red “open” sign flickering in and out of consciousness. The door jingles and creaks when you open it, causing a few of the patrons to turn their heads towards you before promptly returning back to their drinks and games of pool. The air smells of stale cigarettes and salt, rock music droning through a busted jukebox in the corner. Straight ahead, you see the bar, lit dimly by more neon signs and faulty overhead bulbs. A familiar figure is already there, Logan’s flannel-covered back is to you, hunched over what you can assume to be a drink he’s been nursing. You approach the bar-seat next to him, pulling it out with a sharp scratch to the ground, causing Logan to turn his head in your direction. Before you can even mutter a greeting, the bartender has already intercepted your attention.

“What can I get you?” he asks, scratching at his scraggly beard, a rag draped over his thin, tattooed shoulder.

“Um, Woodford and coke?” you ask as you get comfortable on your stool. The bartender laughs at your request.

“This ain’t that kind of place, missy,” he quips, you try and look at Logan for support but he’s focused on his beer, “I got Maker’s, Jim Beam, and Jack, what’ll it be?”

“Maker’s, I guess,” you concede, watching as the bartender walks down the bar to make your drink.

“Bourbon girl, eh?” Logan remarks, adjusting in his seat to face you.

“Um, yeah, I don’t like much clear liquor,” you say, trying your best to avoid eye contact, “or, it doesn’t like me at least. Some of my worst nights started with a bottle of vodka.”

Logan laughs, catching you off guard, you laugh lightly with him. The bartender sets your drink in front of you, you thank him with a smile.

“Open or closed?” the bartender asks, but before you can even think of a response, Logan answers for you.

“Put her on mine, Jim,” Logan says.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to—“

Logan gives the bartender a stern look, and he walks away, no contest.

“Thank you,” you grin, taking a sip from your glass.

“Don’t mention it,” he waves off, the same warning in his voice as last time. There’s a beat of awkward silence. You’re not sure what to say, or why he even asked you here.

“I um—“ you pause, trying to find the right words, “I appreciate you going out of your way to try and make me feel better about earlier.”

“I didn’t go out of my way,” he corrects, turning back towards the bar, his body now parallel with yours, “this is usually where you can find me this time of day.”

“Oh, well, thanks for inviting me, I guess,” you correct your previous statement. You purse your lips, wanting to explain your behavior earlier. But you’re not sure if that’s appropriate, you feel bad that he had to take pity on you just because you got choked up from him making fun of you. “Look, I at least want to apologize for the way I acted earlier and—“

“Save it,” he interjects with a raise of his hand.

“I’m…sorry I—“ you stutter, trying yet again to apologize for your presence, causing Logan to cut you off with a wave of his hand again.

“You don’t need to keep doing that. Have your drink. Relax. I’m not pissed at you,” Logan reassures, his voice stern. You’re convinced that his voice doesn’t fluctuate from that kind of tone too often. But despite the sternness of his voice, you feel your shoulders relax. You’re holding his gaze but you don’t feel like you’re about to combust. You feel…fine. You feel just fine.

“Huh,” you mutter, a curious tinge to your voice. Relax. Have your drink. You ponder the glass for a moment, considering it. Fuck it. You raise it to your lips and chug, swallowing every burn the Maker’s leaves down your throat without a care. Logan’s brows raise at your sudden gratuitous impulse.

“Okay then,” he remarks with a grin.

A buzz floats around your head, your chest heaves from your uninterrupted drinking.

“Rick!” you call, attempting to get the attention of the bartender.

“Jim,” Logan corrects you quietly, smiling in amusement as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Jim! Can I have another?”

…

You’re four bourbon and coke’s into your evening, and you cannot recall the last time you had this much fun. You beat Logan twice at pool and watched him take fruity, girly shooters for each loss, per your request. Currently, you’re in the middle of another game, a tied score bringing out your competitive edge. Logan’s frame is bent over the pool table, lining up the perfect shot. You chew on the straw in your drink as you unabashedly ogle his ass. Damn, he looks good in those jeans. He makes his shot, the cue ball ricocheting off of the edge and barely skimming the 8 ball he was trying to get in.

“Damn it,” he grunts, turning away from the table, his chest rising and falling in frustration. You giggle in excitement, ready to take your turn.

“Jim! I’d get started on that lemon drop if I were you!” you call, your voice slurring slightly as you’re ready to claim your victory over your professor.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, bub,” Logan warns, clearly a bit more annoyed at the fact he’s losing than he’s letting on.

“Oh, don’t you worry about me, baby,” you counter, a teasing, almost sultry edge to your voice. Logan holds his eyes on you, watching as you bend over the pool table to make your shot. You close one eye, carefully trying to line up the cue ball in the direction you want to go. The ball is towards the center of the table, but you’re so sure that you can manage on your own, balancing on your tip-toes.

“Need a hand?” Logan asks, trying his best to hide his amusement at the precarious position you’ve put yourself in.

“Shh!” you snap, “I’m concentrating! 8 ball, corner pocket.” You make your shot, but your feet slip out from under you with the momentum you built. You almost crumble to the floor, but Logan’s hands catch you around your ribcage first. He lifts you onto your feet, but in your buzzed state you’re having a hard time maintaining balance.

“Easy there,” Logan drawls, keeping his hands so temptingly close to the side of your breasts. You’re jelly in his hands, letting him take hold of you in whatever way he wants. You could spin around and make out with him right here, which you honestly consider for a moment. But before you can, Logan leans his face close to your ear, his beard tickling your cheek.

“Looks like you scratched,” he whispers, his gravelly voice reverberating around your skull. Any other day, this would make you wet immediately, but the competitive monster inside of you is awoken. You shake your head in disbelief, turning your focus back to the pool table. There’s no sight of the white cue ball anywhere. You suddenly find your balance, scrambling out of Logan’s grasp to search for what pocket the ball got shot into. ‘Lo and behold, it made it into the corner pocket you were aiming for.

“Goddamnit,” you curse, stomping your foot in frustration, gripping the table with white knuckles.

“I told you not to get ahead of yourself,” Logan taunts, one hand planted on the pool table, the other on his hip. You scowl at him, trying to find a clever comeback, but your liquor soaked brain is coming up dry. The sound of your name turns your attention towards the bar.

“I got ‘yer lemon drop right here,” Jim calls, setting the sugar rimmed shooter on the edge of the bar closest to you.

“Get her a shot of Tito’s to wash that down with, will ‘ya, Jim?” Logan chimes, maintaining eye contact with you. Your jaw drops in shock at the deliberateness of his actions. The nerve.

“Are you trying to get me to be more sloppy just so you can beat me again?” you question, your eyes narrowing as you cross towards him. You stand just a few inches in front of him, squaring up to him with a challenging look in your eyes.

“I think you’re doing a good enough job at being sloppy by yourself,” he teases, eyeing you up and down. You roll your eyes as you brush past him and towards the bar to retrieve your punishment. Lemon drop in one hand, Tito’s in the other.

“Bottoms up,” you chime, maintaining eye contact with Logan as you lick the sugar off the rim of your glass, taking the shooter down with one swift gulp. You wince slightly, before humming in satisfaction, the sweetness masking the vodka just enough. You exhale in preparation for your next drink, closing your eyes and willing yourself to not think too hard about what you’re going to inevitably do to yourself. A single lemon drop is not enough to make you blackout and puke all over your house, but another shot of vodka on top of that might just put you on that track. Swallowing your hesitance, you bring the glass to your lips and choke it down in one gulp. Frowning at the way it burns your throat, sending tingles down your spine.

“Oh, wow,”  you grunt, your face twisted into a pained expression. “Okay, fuck you, m’gonna win this next one.”

Logan snorts at your drunken confidence, already anticipating what might happen next.

You did not, in fact, win the next one.

Logan cockily slams a shot glass of clear liquid in front of you, causing your jaw to drop in surprise.

“Thisn’t fair,” you pout, leaning against the pool table for support.

“I choked down 2 lemon drops because of you, the least you can do is take this shot of tequila, princess,” Logan counters, offering you a slice of lime and a flimsy packet of salt.

“Bitch, this’s tequila?!” you exclaim, too drunk to even comprehend the fact that he just called you princess.

“Bottoms up,” he says teasingly, pushing the glass towards you, clearly quoting you from when you were more confident earlier. “Unless you’re feeling like chickening out on me.”

“No! I jus’ don’ wan’ get too drunk before our nex’ game,” you slur, almost tripping over yourself. Logan sighs, considering your drunken state for a moment.

“Tell you what,” he starts, “I’ll do half this shot with you if you quit your whinin’, got it?” You nod eagerly, accepting his proposal. With your confirmation, Logan takes the lime in his mouth and bites it in half, giving you part of it. You secretly wish he gave you the half that was in his mouth. He rips the salt packet open, and you watch earnestly as his tongue swipe along the back of his hand before he pores some of the salt on it. You follow suit, wetting the back of your hand with your tongue and allowing Logan to pour a bit of the salt on it. Logan goes first, licking the salt up, swallowing half the shot down, and finishing it off with a bite of the lime. You try and stifle a gag when you look at the glass of clear liquid. You sigh, closing your eyes tight as you lick the salt off the back of your hand, choke down the tequila in one gulp, hoping the squirt of lime juice in your mouth will save you. It does not. Your throat burns and you involuntarily shiver at the contact of the liquor on your tastebuds.

“I’m gonna get these back to Jim,” he gestures to the stack of glasses that’s accumulated over the course of your games, “rack ‘em up for me, princess.” Logan nods to the pool balls, indicating for you to get another game started. You oblige, leaning over the table to retrieve the balls and placing them into the plastic triangle. A gasp escapes your lips when you feel a pair of hands grasp your waist. Assuming it’s Logan, you smile, craning your neck to get a view of him. You startle when you see a complete stranger pressing up against your rear. A yelp leaves your lips as you scramble up onto the table in an attempt to get away.

“Don’t be like that, baby, I was just saying hi,” the strangers gruff voice beckons to you from where your feet are hanging off the table. You scrunch your face in disgust. He has a long, unkempt beard with yellow teeth peeking out behind it. His hairline is thin and greyed, his figure broad and heavyset. He towers over you, making your stomach churn.

“No thanks,” you say, sternly, sobering up slightly in an act of self preservation. The stranger doesn’t let up, though. Still attempting to pull you towards him by grasping at your ankles. You don’t register anything else around you. Not Logan’s shouts from the other end of the bar, you don’t see him rushing towards the stranger either. Your preservation is the only thing on your mind.

“I said no, asshole!” you shout, reeling your legs back before kicking into his chest with as much force as you can muster, your abnormal strength sending him flying all the way into the back wall 10 feet away. He crashes against the wood paneling, leaving a dent in his wake, groaning and writhing in pain on the ground. Your adrenaline dissipates, allowing the realization of what you just did to really sink in. Someone of your size should not have been able to send someone like him flying in the way you did, and the way that Logan looks at you, indicates just that.

“…You okay?” Logan asks carefully, reaching towards you, helping you down off of the pool table. You tumble off the surface, allowing Logan to fully support your weight. “You, uh, seemed to have it pretty under control there.”

“I don’ skip leg day,” you slur, feeling your mouth suddenly fill with saliva, your natural instincts of self preservation just dissipated, and you now are feeling the full brunt of every sip of alcohol you had tonight. The blood drains from your face and a wave of nausea washes over you, “Logan, I think’m gonna—“

You can’t even finish your sentence before you hurl the upset of your stomach all over the floor in front of you, Logan just barely missing the line of fire.

“Shit,” Logan hisses, trying to support you as best as he can without getting your puke all over him, “Okay, let’s get you out of here before you kick someone else through a wall.”

You’d find that funny if you weren’t painfully nauseous right now. Logan slings your arm around his neck, you’re limp around him, like a rag doll. The next few hours are a blur. You’re delirious, incapable of forming a coherent thought. You might recall Logan asking for an address, or directions. But you don’t remember what you said, or if you even said anything in response through your drunken stupor. Which leads you here, hunched over the toilet in Logan’s bathroom, as he tries to shove croutons in your face in an attempt to soak up the liquor that’s strangling your stomach. You’re half awake, ready to fall over and sleep this off. So you do just that, fall over, that is. You’re snuggled into the shag rug on his bathroom floor, reveling in its softness. Oh, this is perfect. You think to yourself, dozing off already.

“C’mon, you can’t sleep on the floor,” Logan grunts, scooping you up off of the bath mat. An incoherent whine escapes your throat at your loss of comfort. You snuggle into his chest, seeking the same comfort you were just robbed of. Your body lowers onto something soft and plush. You sigh in approval, spreading your arms across the expanse of this luxuriously soft bed. Ready to get comfortable, you groan in indignance at the stuffiness of your jeans. You ungracefully unbutton and prod them down your legs, freeing your body from the stiff discomfort of the pants. You hear a throat clear, and feel the comforter get pulled out from under you and then promptly over you, cocooning you in a soft, pillowy heaven. The soft fabric feels so nice and cool against your bare legs, clad in nothing, save for your panties. You silently thank your sober self for wearing a tank top and no bra today, allowing for optimal sleepwear.

“There’s water for you here,” Logan tells you, gently, gesturing to what you think is the nightstand, but you can’t bear to look at it.

“Don’t puke on my bed,”Logan warns. The light gets turned off and you sigh at the peaceful nature of the space. You inhale, reveling in the scent of Logan that lingers on the bed.

“Hm, bed smells like you,” you hum in satisfaction, finally feeling your sleep begin to overtake you. There’s a beat of silence that hangs in the air.

“Night, princess.”

...

A/N: hehehehehehe😈😈😈😈 I hope y'all had as much fun reading the bar scene as I had writing it. I loved writing reader letting loose a bit and not being so anxious, hopefully she stays that way but you'll have to wait and see. I'm getting oral surgery tomorrow so I'm not sure when the next update will be. click here to view on ao3.

Tags: @wolviesgirl @sanemis-piss

[strnlio]

how abt matt confessing his love for you at a picnic date? like, you’ve been dating for like a month, but you still haven’t said “i love you” to each other and matt would take you on this cute picnic date since the weather was in your favour and would confess his love for you

I LOVE YOU .ᐟ

PAIRING: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

SUMMARY: matt confesses his love for you on a cute picnic date

WARNINGS!: none just some tooth rotting fluff :)

a/n: sorry it took me so long to post this, hope u like it :))

a/n 2: not proofread and i think i may have made some grammatical mistakes or maybe im overthinking reading the sentences over and over again idk 😭 also theres not a lot of dialogue in this one sorry 😔☝🏽

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

matt knew. he knew from the moment he met you that you were the one from him. he was enamoured with you ever since your very first conversation; he was in love with your easy-going bubbly personality. he was charmed by how smart you were, how you never failed to crack a smile on his face every time you made a witty remark. he loved the way you dressed, how you did your hair, your sweet smile and lovely voice. he especially loved how well you got along with his brothers, how well you complimented all three of them.

little did he know, you felt the same way. you loved everything about him- how kind and caring he was, the way he smiled at you, his adorable giggles at every joke you told him, the sweet gestures he did that warmed your heart. it was just so easy to talk to him about anything and everything. every time you looked into his icy blue eyes you felt your heart skip a beat, every little touch made goosebumps rise on your skin and made you wonder if this could ever mean more in the future.

seems like the universe was in your favour- because one thing led to another and suddenly it was unbearable to him to hide his feelings anymore- so matt took the risk and confessed his strong feelings for you in the backseat of his car while you both went for a late night drive at 2 am. he was fully expecting you to politely deny him and was more than surprised when he found out you reciprocated them. safe to say it was the happiest he’s ever been in his entire life.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

a month later everything was perfect. you and matt were great together- you complimented each other wonderfully. he was always planning something- last week he had taken you to a drive-in theatre and you both cuddled while watching 10 things i hate about you. today he was taking you out on a date in the park.

the weather was perfect- it was sunny but not hot and the breeze was gentle with a perfect cool temperature. matt was excited for this little picnic he’d arranged. he took you to a small park which happened to be absolutely empty that day, leaving the lush green ground all to yourselves. it was perfect.

“lookin’ pretty m’lady,” he said in that silly high pitched voice of his as you both settled down on the picnic matt you layed down. you chuckled as you rolled your eyes at him. his eyes softened when he looked at you. god you were so pretty. you looked almost unreal. the way your hair rested on your shoulders, the sun making your skin glow, a small smile plastered on your face. and your eyes- he could get lost in them.

you felt flustered as you felt his crystal blue eyes on you. “you’re staring,” you whispered as your eyes travelled down to his lips. “i know,”. he whispered back, his voice now raspy. he closed his eyes as he leaned in and smashed his lips against yours. his hands cupped your cheeks as you both got lost in the kiss. butterflies erupted in your stomach. he always kissed you like it was the last time- with so much passion and affection. he could kiss you forever and ever if you let him- it was like you were his oxygen and he needed you.

before things got more heated you pulled away- matts pale skin was now a cherry red colour and he couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot. the effect you had on him was crazy. “lets have something,” you smiled as you picked up one of the baskets of food you had brought.

you both sat on the picnic blanket and talked. it was just so easy for him to talk to you. he could have long conversations about the most boring thing in the world with you. hearing you talk made him happy. he hadn’t talked like this with anyone except his brothers for ages. it was crazy- the impact you had on him. words and topics just flowed by as the clock ticked as you both talked about anything and everything.

he loved you. some may call it stupid to fall in love with someone who you’ve known for mere months but he just knew. nobody had made him feel like this. did he want to tell you? absolutely. was he scared? also yes. love was a big word- not something people throw around easily. he didn’t want to drop the l word on you and let you think that he was rushing anything. it was just how he felt- how he had felt for a while.

everything was perfect today- the weather, the atmosphere, you. “can i tell you something?” he asked, his heartbeat picking up its pace. “of course,” you said before taking a bite of a chocolate cookie . you looked up at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to speak.

“ok so… uhhh… heres the thing. i know its too soon or whatever and absolutely no pressure to say it back by the way its just that… you make me feel- i dont know, different. in a good way. different than anyone else has ever made me feel. you make me happy… so so happy. and i just…. i love you,” he said, fumbling on his words, breaking eye contact as he laid his eyes on the ground, too nervous to see your reaction.

you started at him with absolute adoration spread across your face. there were so many things you wanted to say but you were at a loss of words. however, you managed to say what mattered the most. “matt… i love you too,” you whispered softly. his heartbeat increased as he looked up at you, only to see a grinning face instructing of a frown he expected.

you both locked eyes as he reciprocated your smile, both staring at each other in silence. he pulled you in for a hug. you both wrapped your arms around each other, the feeling of reassurance filling matt as he felt his body close to yours. you really were the one for him.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

a/n: grah😜😜

tags: @mattshighway @wurlibydominicfike @luverboychris @sunrisemill @flouvela

[littlexdeaths]

sympathy for the devil - e.m.

demon kas x human eddie x fem hunter (supernatural au)

i found god, i found him in a lover.

when his hair falls in his face, and his hands so cold they shake…

i found the devil, i found him in a lover.

and his lips like tangerines, and his color coded speak…

warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! established relationship, hate fucking, oral (fem receiving), unprotected piv sex, cream pie, mentions of blood, anything italicized is eddie’s inner dialogue to kas

word count: 3k

a/n: it’s me back again with another repost of an old fic. i also want to give a big shout out to my darling @undead-supernova for helping me edit multiple parts this fic. ily august 💕

You knew he was here.

From the smell of sulfur lingering in the air, to the heavy presence in the room. Your skills as a hunter were too great, you knew he couldn’t have led you astray.

But maybe he wanted you to find him.

This cat and mouse game you’ve been playing for months was just a little too exciting for him to give up. You should’ve been scared, your instincts told you to be. But hearing his husky voice cut through the darkness of the abandoned warehouse made your heart skip a beat.

“Nice to see you again, sweetheart…”

You couldn’t tell where he was yet, still using the cover of the night to shield himself from you. You clutch your bottle of holy water closer to your side as his chuckle bounced off the walls. “You’ve tried that before, it didn't work out so well last time. Did it, pet?”

He was getting closer, you could tell by the way your hair stood up on end. Squaring your shoulders as he finally steps out into the moonlight. The sight makes you freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief. Kas looked different from the last time you had seen him.

He had taken on a new vessel, one that had become quite familiar to you.

Eddie Munson, a bartender you had met at a place called the Hideout. After you’d stumbled inside the rundown bar for a drink after finishing a grueling hunt somewhere in Indiana.

He was sweet, and you both needed to let off some steam. So you took him back to your motel room for the night… and the night after that. The male had made you feel things no one else ever could. So you kept finding yourself going back to that shitty town to see him. Where he was always waiting with that charming smile and a rum and coke.

But now guilt riddled your chest as his once chocolate hues were a stark onyx, Eddie was long gone.

The demon in front of you smirks, eyes watching you in amusement as the recognition crossed over your features.

This was your fault, you put him in harm's way. You had been told time and again not to let yourself be involved with non-hunters. Regular folk. It would put them at risk, not knowing about the things that go bump in the night.

But demons were especially dangerous, they didn’t need consent to take over someone’s body. The only reason you were protected was due to the dark ink that swirled over your hip bone.

Kas takes a step toward you, causing you to take one step back in return. This only made that smirk widen as another chuckle slipped past his lips.

Lips that had been on you too many times to count.

“He thinks about you a lot, you know… wanted you to stay with him so many times.” The demon hums condescendingly, the implication behind his words makes your heart stutter in your chest.

Coming to the realization that you could never have that happy ending now, not with him, or anyone.

After crossing paths so many times, you knew how malicious the demon standing before you could be. Even if you were able to banish him back to hell, Eddie wouldn't be able to return to a normal life.

Once that veil between those worlds is lifted, there’s no way to undo the damage it causes. You’ve seen it more times than you can count.

“A little pathetic, really…” Kas continues as he advances on you slowly, backing you further into a corner.

Your emotions are clouding your reasoning, allowing the demon to continue to close in on you. It shouldn’t be affecting you like this, but as much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise… you knew one thing was true. You had fallen for the metalhead.

And now you’d never get him back.

“But don’t worry, sweetness— he’s still in here with me,” as he speaks you feel your back connect with the cool concrete, the male now caging you against it.

His body felt warm against yours, a juxtaposition to the cold seeping into your back. His familiar scent of citrus and tobacco engulfs your senses completely, bringing you back to the last time you saw each other. Your limbs were tangled together as you lay in a post sex haze. His lazy smile made your skin tingle, finding yourself tracing over the faded tattoos on his chest.

From the flash in his dark eyes you knew he was reliving a memory of Eddie’s, if not the same one.

His calloused fingers begin to trail across your neck, unintentionally allowing yourself to lean into the graze of his fingertips. Despite how your mind screams at you to push him away, your body continues to betray you. Kas can’t help but notice how your skin heats under his touch, how your thighs squeeze together. It amuses him more than you’ll ever know.

“Don’t touch me,” you mutter, wishing your words held much more malice than they do. The slight shake in your voice causes another dark chuckle to spill past his plump lips. Mocking you.

The demon leans further into your space, those damned lips grazing over your collarbone. The feeling causes you to shiver as goosebumps break out across your skin. Kas continues to leave hot, open mouthed kisses along your throat. The feelings of fear, anger and arousal mixing together— making your head spin.

“You can deny that you want this with your words all you want sweetheart, but I see the way your body reacts to this vessel.” He taunts, letting his teeth nip at your tender flesh.

“I feel those goosebumps on your skin, the way you shiver under his touch, and… I can smell you.” Kas growls, his teeth sinking roughly into your skin.

A slight whimper leaves your lips as you attempt to push him away. But it’s too late— he has the upper hand now.

His fingers lace themselves into your hair and tug, exposing more of your neck to him. He licks a stripe up your throat to your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth.

“I can feel how bad he wants you too, you know. The way he reacts to your body… you have no idea how much he wants to feel you again.”

Your eyes widen in shock as the demon presses his hips into yours, feeling how hard he was through the fabric of his jeans.

Get the fuck off her asshole, she’s mine!

Kas chuckles again, pulling back slightly as his hands continue to wander down your body. There’s a flash of something in those onyx hues, leaving you to wonder what hidden joke you’re missing out on.

“Your little boy toy isn’t very happy with me, sweetheart… he doesn’t want to share. How selfish of him,” he feigns a pout, leaning forward as his nose glides along your jaw.

I’m warning you, dickhead.

His deep chuckle fills the silence once more as his large hands grip onto your hips, “Isn’t he selfish, pet?”

“Fuck you,” you spit back, shoving him away but only momentarily. His hands quickly return to the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

That spark of defiance returns, which only makes the demon grin wider. His hold on your hips becomes harsher, the metal of his rings biting into the skin there.

“Hmm… with pleasure, darling.” His lips hover over yours as his sweet breath fans across your face. There’s a moment when those black hues slowly start to fade, the brown of Eddie’s returning.

Seeing that flicker of him, the man you had desperately fallen for— is what finally breaks your resolve.

Closing that short distance between you and angrily smashing your lips against his. He moans into your mouth, his hands hooking under your thighs to lift you. Trapping you further against the wall as he grinds his pelvis into yours.

You don’t know where Kas starts and Eddie ends, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

The kiss is angry, all tongue and teeth viciously clashing together. There’s still a small part of you that’s begging you to get away, that this was wrong. But your body has taken over control, that little voice fading with each press of his lips against yours.

His tongue glides along your lower lip, begging for entry you weren’t yet willing to give. The male doesn’t give up that easily though, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass and squeezing.

The action takes you by surprise, the small gasp you let out allowing him to slip inside. Kas groans as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, before setting you back on your feet. He pins your hips against the rough concrete as he kneels before you.

The demon eagerly buries his face in between your thighs as he inhales deeply, “I need to know if this pussy tastes as sweet as it smells.”

You’re stunned into silence as he reaches to quickly unbutton your jeans. Finding yourself all too eager to aid him in sliding the denim and lace down your legs. Stepping out of the fabric as Kas tosses them somewhere in the dark of the warehouse.

The brunette doesn’t waste another moment before his tongue is licking a fat stripe up your slit, forcing your thighs apart in his strong hands. Your fingers lace themselves in his wild curls, tugging harshly as you feel his tongue dip inside your entrance. His growl vibrates against your core, nose nudging your bundle of nerves in a way that has your legs trembling in his grasp.

“Hmm, even better than his memories…” you nearly miss his admission over your soft whines, but you don’t have time to dwell on it.

Kas eagerly replaces his tongue with his fingers as the muscle swirls up and around your swollen bud. Your head is swimming, his actions bringing you that much closer to the edge. The male enjoys the way you grind yourself harder onto his tongue as your grip on his hair tightens. Feeling the way your walls flutter around his fingers only encourages him to pick up the pace.

While your eyes have slipped shut, his are wide open. The stormy irises commit each pleasurable expression that flits across your face to memory— to both of their memories.

The almost inhuman speed of his fingers and the firm pressure of his tongue finally pushes you over the edge. As your loud cries echo throughout the empty warehouse. You attempt to push his head away, but his lips don’t leave your body. Instead he trails them down your thighs, smearing your slick across your skin.

You curse softly before dropping to your knees, pushing him backwards. He is surprised by your sudden dominance, but allows you to lay him back on the dirty ground. Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the zipper down with an urgency you had never seen from yourself before. It makes him chuckle, as you greedily shove his pants down to his knees.

“If you were that needy for our cock you could’ve just said so, sweetness.” He grins devilishly as your hands reach for the elastic of his boxers.

Mine, not yours…

Your eyes flick up to meet his, the smirk plastered on his lips fuels your irritation further.

“Shut the fuck up, Kas.” You say between gritted teeth, pulling his hard cock out from the confines of his boxers as he stifled a moan.

Fuck, that’s my girl…

You don’t give him much warning before you’re straddling his hips, sinking down onto his full length with a whimper. It didn’t matter how many times you had taken him to bed, you were still in awe of just how well he filled you up. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock, caressing your inner walls in a way no other man could.

It was addictive, a slice of heaven you never wanted to lose.

The male grips your hips tightly, guiding them as he rocks his own up against yours. He’s groaning beneath you, dark eyes watching the space where your bodies are connecting with almost… fascination. A creamy ring has formed around the base of his cock as you continue to ride him. You let your nails dig into his clothed chest with a satisfied whine, your head falling back as you take him deeper.

She really is an angel…

The demon doesn’t seem pleased with your languid pace any longer as he abruptly flips you both over. The movement knocks the wind from your lungs. Kas grins down at you, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight that has filtered in through a broken window. His large hands hold you firmly in place as he begins slamming into your cervix. Causing your back to arch off the grimy floor, your shirt riding up in the process.

The sounds of your bodies connecting fill the once eerie silence of the night. His eyes rake over your newly exposed skin, pushing the material further up your torso. His calloused fingers trace over the ink splayed across your hip with a dark look.

“This little mark might protect your soul, but it’s not going to protect your body.” He grunts as he continues to slam his hips harder into yours, “Not from me. Or him.”

You don’t answer, instead grabbing a fist full of his hair and smashing your mouths together. He kisses you back just as roughly, teeth catching your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The familiar taste of his saliva mixes with a harsh metallic flavor. The taste of you on his tongue only fuels the fire raging inside you. The male sucks your bleeding lip in between his.

Kas grabs your shaky legs, wrapping them around his waist to join you closer together. A gasp escapes your lips as he hits that sweet spot inside you, causing your eyes to roll back. The demon groans as he feels you pulse around his cock, trailing his lips over your jaw. The mixture of his spit and your own blood smearing across your skin.

“No wonder he can’t stop thinking about you,” his words are spoken so softly you almost don’t catch them.

Pride blooms in your chest as a small smirk graces your features, but it’s wiped away just as quickly. His hips pound into yours even faster, leaving any snarky comment to die on your lips. Instead a pleasurable cry pierces the air as your nails drag across his back.

You can feel your orgasm building with each deep stroke of his cock, filling you to the brim. His lips suck onto the base of your throat, his breath coming out in short pants as you tighten around him more.

“That’s it, angel. It's okay, I’m here.”

Your eyes that had previously fluttered shut, now snap back open. Coaxing his face up from the crook of your neck. No one ever called you that but Eddie, not even Kas.

Your eyes meet his brown ones, letting his hips slow their pace. That signature dimple indents his cheek when he smiles down at you, tears blurring your vision. You quickly blink them away to see him more clearly. Eddie leans down, gently kissing away the moisture that has stained your cheeks.

He wraps you in his arms, pulling you up and into his lap. The new position only buries him deeper inside you, allowing the pleasure to wash over you completely. Your body trembles in his embrace as you rest your forehead against his.

“Eddie,” you moan, grinding yourself harder onto his cock as he holds you close.

His touch is much softer as his hands reach out to caress every inch of you. While he still has control over his own body. Allowing himself to soak in every moment before he’s ripped away from you again. But between your pretty cries and his husky groans, neither of you will be lasting much longer.

“I’ve got you, angel… come for me.” The promise of safety in his voice makes your heart flutter in your chest.

Feeling his fingers encircle over your sensitive nub, he gives you one more hard thrust before you finally fall apart. A breathy cry of his name tumbles from your lips as you feel him twitch inside you. Your body melts further against him, an attempt to keep him here with you. Despite knowing the reality that was soon to come.

“Fuck… I love you. I love you.” He sounds desperate as he mutters the words against your temple.

In your blissful state you don’t notice the black haze beginning to overtake his irises. His words ring in your ears as you feel him spill inside you. Not stopping the movement of his hips as he fucks his essence deeper inside you. Letting your head fall into the crook of his neck as you mumble those three words back into his flushed skin. His comforting scent washes over you as you attempt to catch your breath.

“Well wasn’t that just so sweet,” your body stiffens in his embrace, his deep chuckle snapping you out of the sweet cocoon you were just in.

You quickly scramble out of his lap in an effort to detach yourself from him. His previously comforting touch now sets your skin ablaze, as if he had burned you. You can feel the mixture of your arousal dripping down your thighs as you hurry to find your discarded clothes in the dark.

In your frenzied state, you don’t hear him approaching until he’s right behind you. His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your waist as you bend over to retrieve your jeans. His hips flush against your ass, the metal on his belt pressing into your bare skin. His hand reaches around to dip in between your thighs, collecting some of the mess you both made.

Kas eagerly sucks the digits into his mouth with a moan, before you feel the warmth of his body disappear.

“We’ll be seeing you soon, sweetheart… you can count on that.”

Is the the last thing you hear as he slips into the still of the night.

[lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Hello Genshin fandom 🥺👉👈, how y'all doing? This is actually my first real time writing for this fandom but I've been reading so much sagau fics and they are all so cool that I wanted to write something too. Not really sure if I'm going to start writing for genshin but we'll see. Hopefully this is good.

"So... This is how it ends?" A last whisper leaves you as a coppery taste invades your mouth, a strangled half laugh escaping from your blood wet lips.

It was tragic. Still, a little comic how golden blood escaped from the giant wound in your stomach caused by Zhognli's spear. The whole world thought you were an impostor, someone worth killing and now time seemed to stop. The clocks hands stoping moving, the sand stopping falling inside the hourglass.

For a moment everything was static, unmoving, not even breathing.

The whole world was shaking, the winds started howling. You looked at them, eyes moving from face to face. And they had the audacity to look shocked, pale, nervous and anxious as you were dying.

The adrenaline had reached its peak, making any and all pain bearable, painless, but with an injury like that you knew what the result would be. You laughed again. After running away for so many months, being cold and hungry, and only knowing fear, you let everything you felt come out of your chest before your death.

You laughed till your eyes were blurry with tears. Tears filled with pain and hatred. You laughed till your throat was hoarse, the sound stretching till it was all but a hiss.

"Your Grace!" You heard Venti's panicked voice, smug smile wiped from his face as he had the audacity to come closer. Though he was far too coward to touch you, he fumbled anxiously. "No... How could this happen?"

Yeah, how could this happen? You thought bitterly. You were isekai'ed to this world but you were ok with it. And then the characters you used to love and cherish started hunting you.

All because of some kind of creator. You didn't even knew there was a creator in the game? There was one? You can't remember. Skipped dialogues, playing it through drowsiness, not reading the books. There was plenty of lore you could have missed.

It was too late now.

"Use your futile head once, bard." Was your reply, dry tone making him wince. "Write me a song while you're it."

"We thought..." Ei started. But a glare from you had her silent in seconds, imponent Shogun Ei trembling under your eyes.

"You thought but you didn't ask me for clarifications, you didn't let mm..." You coughed blood, a pool of golden coating your clothes and feet.

"You Grace!" Zhongli screamed, alarmed.

Your body became weak and you fell forward, your knees weakening and small tears running down your star like eyes, Zhongli held you, so delicate and with so much love. Once, you used wished for him to hold you like this, for him to cuddle you and share all this knowledge with you over tea but now it just left a sour taste on your mouth while you looked at those ambar eyes as the minutes go by.

"Please, don't leave..." A cry from Ei's wounded soul. Followed by Venti's regretful tears.

A god of freedom took the Creator's freedom, deprived them of it without using his mind like he used to do. And the goddess of eternity was sentenced a spend eternity alone, without her sister, her son, her creator...

Zhongli lips were moving, you could feel the vibration of his voice reverberating through his chest where your head rested. But the words became blurred and their meaning was lost.

The wind was swaying your hair so gently, caressing your face with its smooth invisible fingers.

In his arms, you died.

[demonoflight]

Fun facts and tidbits from Deep Cut’s stage dialogue:

While Shiver and Frye have favorite weapon classes they swear by (stringers for Shiver and splatanas for Frye), Big Man is the kind of guy who uses different weapons for different stages. Some of the weapons he uses are brushes (at Inkblot Art Academy), blasters (at Humpback Pump Track) and sloshers (at Eeltail Alley).

Frye likes coming up with attack names for Specials used in highly specific ways and charging in with a war cry in turf battles. She is not stealthy.

Deep Cut sells their treasure from the Crater at a high price to a guy running a shady stall in Hagglefish Market.

Shiver’s need for speed is not limited to riding Master Mega into battle. She has openly contemplated taking the cars at Mincemeat Metalworks and the Manta Maria itself for joyrides, and her parents were worried about her riding a bicycle because she’s a danger and a menace to everybody and WILL run you over.

Some stage dialogue basically confirms Deep Cut are housemates (oh my god they were roommates) - the three of them even go shopping for groceries at MakoMart together (Shiver recommends buying in bulk on Tuesdays for great savings!). Frye keeps trying to sneak unapproved snacks into their cart, but Shiver and Big Man are on to her shenanigans.

Big Man has been teaching the girls how to cook ever since they started living together! In Japanese, Shiver straight up admits to struggling with cooking when she moved out of her parents’ house since she’s never really had to cook before, and Frye says before Big Man taught them the basics she mostly ate junk she got from the supermarket. Either way, Big Man points out Frye has a bad habit of putting a ton of sugar into EVERYTHING. She’s... she’s working on it.

None of the Deep Cut trio have ever lived in a housing complex with apartments like Flounder Heights. Frye is very open to the idea, but Shiver isn’t since she thinks she wouldn’t get along well with neighbors.

Deep Cut’s go-to venue for birthday parties is Big Man’s house. It is unclear if it’s because it’s the biggest and nicest of the clan houses, or if it’s because Big Man (and his family by proxy) are the most easygoing and willing to hold parties there.

Both Big Man and Frye have a past with Undertow Spillway - Big Man got lost there once as a child while chasing butterflies, while a young Frye used to skip dance lessons and take her little brother with her to explore and look for treasure.

Frye used to skip school a LOT.

Deep Cut has filmed music videos at Mincemeat Metalworks and Hammerhead Bridge, but the latter was never released because Big Man was knocked over by a strong wind.

Some time ago, Deep Cut were extras for a movie filmed at Scorch Gorge. They were only in the film for two seconds.

Deep Cut are completely weirded out by the NILS Statue, are further weirded out by the fact no one really talks about anymore, and think it’s stupid that there are still tour boats sailing right by the statue. See, they CAN be sensible every once in a while.

Big Man likes to imagine the big cranes at Sturgeon Shipyard combining into a giant robot. Big Man is a nerd.

One of the Mahi-Mahi Resort dialogues has Shiver complaining about how hot it is at the poolside. In English, Big Man suggests taking a dip in the pool, and immediately realizes his friendly advice could be misconstrued because what works for him does NOT work for an inkfish. Compare and contrast Marie telling Callie to take a dip in said pool back in the first game’s NOA translation... they’ve definitely gotten better about this, Big Man really just comes off as a well-meaning goofball here. Meanwhile, in Japanese, Shiver’s complaint brings him to a realization: “so THAT’S why you keep standing in my shadow when we’re here...”

Frye is the kind of person who goes into turf battle with a weapon in one hand and a snack in the other (the only person, Shiver insists). This has made her the target for seagulls enough times that she has issued a public service warning about the little snack thieves.

Once, Frye used Zipcaster to enter one of the high cages at Scorch Gorge... and could not figure out how to get out. There were tears. She insists she didn’t cry and does not want to talk about it.

[autistichalsin]

All dialogue options for Halsin's request for a story for the children in the epilogue

There are generic options, unique options for Durges, each Origin, and even for Origin paths (I.E. Justiciar Shadowheart vs Selune path Shadowheart) so I thought I'd collect them all here! There are some nice characterization moments here, and I love Halsin's reactions to some of these. (Also, I had no idea Gale could still ascend to godhood as a mindflayer? Or at least there's dialogue for it here...) I hope you guys enjoys these!

All characters/Tav:

Regale Halsin with tales of your past six months.

Halsin: You have kept yourself busy - I expected no less, in truth. I shall be able to keep the children enthralled for a few more nights yet, thanks to you. And should you wish to retell of your exploits in person? Well, I shall not object to a night off.

All characters/Tav:

The truth may be a little flat. Spice it up a little. (This triggers a skill roll for deception)

If the roll succeeds:

Halsin: You are truly incapable of disappointing. The children shall be rapt - and have no fear; all due credit shall be given to the tale's originator.

If the roll fails:

Halsin: Hmm, do I detect a certain... exaggeration? You could give Master Geddarm a run for his gold - though I suppose he has little need for it now, Oak Father bless him. In any case, my audience will favour a good tale over veracity any day - I thank you for your offering.

Any character who accompanied Karlach to Avernus:

Halsin: I am glad you and Karlach have an enduring friendship - it shall serve as a strong lesson for the children, as well as a stirring tale.

Any player who became a mindflayer:

My exploits have been limited by my new form. I live as a pariah, feared by most.

Halsin: Yet not by me. I shall tell the children of your heroism and sacrifice. They shall know what they owe to you, trust me.

Mindflayer characters who have plans with the Emperor:

I have been dwelling far from the public eye. Yet the Emperor and I have grand plans in motion - that I cannot speak of.

Halsin: Too murky for a children's tale, I fear. Perhaps I should focus on the hero you were, and the sacrifice you made. But thank you for sharing, nonetheless.

Mind flayer characters who are allied with the Emperor:

My new form demands discretion. I have been amassing power in the shadows with my ally, the emperor.

Halsin: I see. Perhaps the children can learn something from your ambition in the face of adversity. Thank you.

Mindflayer characters who killed the Emperor:

My exploits have been limited by my new form. I live as a pariah, feared by most.

Halsin: And with an appetite for the grey ambrosia that dwells within every skull, I presume? Perhaps I shall remind the children of your heroism and self-sacrifice... and skip over the brain-eating until they are older.

Dragonborn Dark Urge:

How about a ghost story? A spectral dragon who will haunt the little ones' dreams, if they don't behave.,

Halsin: Most enthralling - though perhaps it may lead to some sleepless nights for the younger ones. I can make something palatable with a little showmanship and creative licence - thank you.

Any Dark Urge:

Tell Halsin a detective story, where in the end, the intrepid Fist discovers they had been committing the murders all along.

Halsin: A touch bleak perhaps, but considering the amount of orphans in my audience, I am sure they shall manage. I can make something palatable with a little showmanship and creative licence - thank you.

God Gale:

Recall the parable of the Yearning Orphan, your youngest follower and already a great prophet spreading your doctrine...

Halsin: You are truly incapable of disappointing. The children shall be rapt - and have no fear; all due credit shall be given to the tale's originator.

Also God Gale:

Tell him of the tribulations of godhood. The politics, the bureaucracy, the endless prayers to answer...

Halsin: Well luckily for you, mortals have a habit of embellishing their run-ins with gods... I am sure I can muster something to captivate the children from what I can glean of you.

God Gale:

Well, I have developed a taste for togas, for one thing.

Halsin: I am glad you have kept yourself occupied. No doubt I will be able to spin a few yarns from the children from this. Thank you.

Mindflayer God Gale:

Well, I've been doing my best to not frighten my followers. I'd hate to be one of those gods.

Halsin: I am glad you have kept yourself occupied. No doubt I will be able to spin a few yarns from the children from this. Thank you.

Non-god Gale who went back to Waterdeep:

I've been researching the tale of the first Blackstaff, Khelben Arunsun. My abridged notes would make for a fascinating bedtime story.

Halsin: I see... well I trust your sources, of course. Perhaps the historical record can survive an embellishment or two, for the sake of the children. In any case, you have my gratitude.

Non-god Gale who didn't return to Waterdeep:

What haven't I done? Delved into dungeons, read secret tomes, taken out a rogue shadow mage or two. Enough magic and mystery for a treasury of tales.

Halsin: Why, Master Dekarios, I had no idea you would continue to stoke the fires of adventure. I commend you - as shall the children, once they hear of your exploits. Thank you.

Dark Justiciar Shadowheart:

Tell Halsin of how you consolidated your power over Lady Shar's church, purging the disloyal with bloody vigor.

Halsin: My. Perhaps a tale for the older children, once I trim off a few of the... less savoury details. But thank you, all the same.

Also Dark Justiciar Shadowheart:

I have been continuing to serve Lady Shar however I can.

Halsin: You are stalwart, even in service of darkness. There will be a lesson there for me to impart to the children... with a few details glossed over, perhaps. Thank you.

Selune path Shadowheart who killed her parents:

Tell Halsin of how you've roamed far and wide, now that you are free of Shar.

Halsin: The shadows were concealing a true adventurer's heart then. Thank you - the children shall be rapt.

Shadowheart whose parents are alive, whether Selune path or Dark Justiciar:

Regale Halsin with tales of your tranquil life with your family and coterie of animals.

Halsin: Yes, I thought I caught the scent of a wolf upon the wind... the children shall love this, but be warned - they may insist upon a visit.

Selune path Shadowheart:

I have been forging my own path, away from Shar's influence.

Halsin: I shall be honoured to speak of you to the children. To embrace change as you have shall make for a stirring example. Thank you.

Any path Shadowheart:

I've been at something of a loose end - roaming and adventuring as I see fit.

Halsin: Countless tales have begun with a roaming adventurer - I am sure I shall keep the children enthralled for years to come with your exploits. Thank you.

Orpheus path Lae'zel:

I have ridden a red dragon to battle as a Warrior of the Comet. The lich queen Vlaakith will fall by my hand.

Halsin: Oak Father preserve you - I hope you have a tight hold on the beast. But this shall make for a most stirring tale for the children. I may even have to tone down the details, for fear they get too excited...

Lae'zel who stayed in Faerun:

I have travelled the harshest lands of the Sword Coast, piercing the hearts of the lich queen's countless assassins.

Halsin: Ha! I think some of the more bloodthirsty children will relish this, thank you.

Wyll who became a Grand Duke and made an eternal pact with Mizora:

I embraced my hellish side and dedicated my life to rebuilding the grand city of Baldur's Gate.

Halsin: The makings of the multi-night epic. The children shall rush to their bunks in order to hear the next chapter, thank you.

Wyll who became a Grand Duke but didn't continue his pact with Mizora:

I turned from my hellish past and dedicated my life to rebuilding the grand city of Baldur's Gate.

Halsin: A noble calling. Your tale shall inspire a whole generation. Thank you.

Wyll who stayed the Blade of Frontiers and made an eternal pact with Mizora:

The Sword Coast is safe as ever thanks to the Blade and his infernal powers.

Halsin: The classic tale of the Blade, but with a twist? This shall go down very well with the children, I sense. Thank you.

Wyll who stayed the Blade of Frontiers and ended his pact with Mizora:

The Blade of Frontiers is back on the hunt. The Sword Coast is safe as ever.

Halsin: Many of the children have already heard of you, as it were - do you know some of them scarcely even believe this old bear could be acquainted with such a hero? But the authentic sense that your recollections bring to the tale shall win them over, no doubt. Thank you.

Wyll who became the Blade of Avernus and made an eternal pact with Mizora:

No hellbeast is safe from the Blade of Avernus and his infernal powers.

Halsin: Thank you, the children shall be agog. I do believe some of them use the number of beastly fangs and claws present in a tale as the yardstick for its quality - which puts yours right at the top of the heap.

Wyll who became the Blade of Avernus and but ended his pact with Mizora:

The Blade of Avernus is on the hunt. The Hells shudder at the very mention of his name.

Halsin: A classic tale. I expect it shall inspire more than a few of the children to start practising their ripostes with wooden sticks.

Wyll who became the Blade of Avernus, made an eternal pact with Mizora, and went to Avernus with Karlach:

The Blade of Avernus and his companion are on the hunt. No hellbeast is safe from his infernal powers.

Halsin: A formidable duo. I am glad that you and Karlach have each other - it shall serve as a strong lesson for the children, as well as a stirring tale.

Wyll who became the Blade of Avernus, did not make an eternal pact with Mizora, and went to Avernus with Karlach:

The Blade of Avernus and his companion are on the hunt. The Hells shudder at the very mention of his name.

Halsin: I am glad you and Karlach have an enduring friendship - it shall serve as a strong lesson for the children, as well as a stirring tale.

Astarion who didn't ascend, but defeated Cazador:

I've been revelling in my freedom, rediscovering the joys of the night.

Halsin: Sanguine joys, no doubt? Perhaps I shall smoothen out some of those details - the children do not need to know the full truth of your diet. But they shall be rapt all the same, thank you.

Astarion who didn't defeat Cazador:

Halsin, I've been hiding in sewers and eating rats. It's not a glorious tale.

Halsin: Ah, but the glory can be found in the telling. The children love tales of underdogs, facing odds most unlikely. They shall appreciate your story, trust me.

Astarion who didn't defeat Cazador and became a mindflayer:

Halsin, I've been hiding in sewers and eating rats' brains. It's not a glorious tale.

Halsin: Ah, but the glory can be found in the telling. The children love tales of underdogs, facing odds most unlikely. They shall appreciate your story, trust me.

Ascended Astarion:

My tales are a little heavy on murder and sex. But if the children want to hear them...

Halsin: Hmm. Perhaps I can substitute the bloodlust and... eh, general lust for cuddles and animals in the retelling. The children may be confused, but no matter - they will soon be asleep. Even with a few little white lies, rest assured that they shall be engrossed. Thank you.

Ascended Astarion who became a mindflayer:

My tales are a little heavy on murder, sex, and tentacles. But if the children want to hear them...

Halsin: Hmm. Perhaps I can substitute the bloodlust and... eh, general lust for cuddles and animals in the retelling. The children may be confused, but no matter - they will soon be asleep. Even with a few little white lies, rest assured that they shall be engrossed. Thank you.

Karlach who went to Avernus alone:

Tell him of how you lost your horn.

Halsin: Truly? I never would have guessed that is what happened. And to think I believed I had the measure of you... but I am glad to be wrong - the children shall be captivated.

[velvetlilacsdaisies]

Shit at Feelings ii

Bodhi Durran x Reader

Synopsis: Bonding with dragons? No issue. Killing venin? Unfortunate, but doable. Confronting your feelings towards your childhood best friend? No thanks.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: Spoilers!! Swearing, reader being stubborn and both reader and Bodhi being lil dummies?? Lmk if I missed anything.

A/n: the end of 2023 kicked my booty!! Beginning of 2024 no better, but here is part 2! I was stuck on if some of part 3 was going to go in this one, but decided not to. Meddling Imogen, and dragon dialogue is included this part!

༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻

The next day, you stretched with Imogen, returning from a morning run. Most cadets were still sleeping their hangovers off. Imogen said the best way to get over one was running it off. She had picked your lock and dragged you out of your bed this morning to do so. But you knew she just wanted to gossip about the night before.

“So you and Durran?” She had a smirk on her lips, tucking a piece of vibrant pink hair behind her ear.

Imogen only knew about whatever you felt for Bodhi, but with the way Rhiannon reacted last night you weren’t sure if you were discreet about whatever you felt in the first place.

“Not what you think.” You sighed, your arms over your head as you sat on the ground, leaning to one side. “We talked once everyone went to bed.”

She looked at you expectantly as she lifted a leg and stretched it behind her. “And?”

You clicked your tongue, leaning to the other side. “And he called me out on my bullshit.”

She laughed almost manically, earning her a pointed glare. “I’m sorry, sorry.” She then dropped her leg and lifted her other. “But you really left him high and dry.”

You grumbled, “I know and I feel like shit about it.” You stood up dusting your leathers off.

“Y/n, just tell him how you feel.” She shook her hands out.

“How do you expect me to tell him everything when I’ve been avoiding him for years because I’m too scared that something will happen once I spill my guts.”

“Gods, I get it. You’re scared, but you already almost died once without telling him. You think you shouldn’t say a little prayer to Malek and Amari that they gave you a second chance?” Imogen said sternly. “Also if it was anyone else you pulled that disappearing act with, you wouldn’t have the same mercy. But it’s Bodhi we’re talking about, and he would let you lead him to hell and back as many times as you wanted because let’s face it—you’re you. And for some fucked up reason he worships the ground you walk on like you were a god yourself.”

You didn’t know if the queasiness you felt was the hangover or how right she was. He would do anything for you. Even how shitty you treated him for the last two years. Last night proved that.

“He even risked smuggling your fucking sketchbook in so you could have something from home—“

“What?” Your jaw dropped.

The pink haired girl inhaled sharply. “Fuck I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“He was the one that did that?” Your heart skipped a beat. Even when you had been so stubborn to avoid him, he thought of you? You had questioned the hell out of Garrick, Imogen, and Xaden for a week about it. You had never thought about the younger Riorson cousin.

“I hate being the middleman in your two demented whatever you got going on.” She sighed. “Listen, forget I said that or take that as a sign to pull your head out of your ass. I’ll see you at breakfast.” She patted your shoulder, leaving you alone in the courtyard.

Well you felt like the shittiest person ever.

You knew you needed to talk to him, and you couldn’t run and avoid him this time. As much as you wanted to hop on Clesaí’s back and ride very far away. Fuck.

You had spent an hour already mulling over the information you had just received. Then replaying the argument last night—which then led to remembering the very brief exchange with Bodhi in Aretia, ultimately leading you to the nightmare from Resson plaguing your thoughts. Like they had when you tossed and turned in bed last night, and the prior nights before that. By the time you entered the mess hall, your thoughts felt like nonsense.

He sat with Imogen at the end of the table filled with third years. They looked deep in a discussion, whispering only to one another. You gulped quietly, were they talking about you? You now knew Imogen felt like a middleman between the two of you, you wondered what he talked about to her. You tried not to overthink it as you reluctantly walked over.

As you reached the table, you could hear Bodhi saying something quite harshly. While the pink haired girl had the same expression she wore when she told you to pull your head out of your ass. It was obviously something he didn’t want you to hear because as soon as he saw you coming up, he stopped mid sentence.

“Can we talk?” You asked him, not bothering to greet the pair. He tensed, and you didn’t miss the look he tried to discreetly give your mutual best friend.

Imogen rolled her eyes, grabbing her things and getting up from the table. “I totally forgot Quinn needed help with something. Bye guys.” She gave a twinkle of her fingers before walking away with a smug look on her face.

You sat down, taking the seat Imogen had been in. “So,” you awkwardly tapped your fingers on the wooden table.

“So,” he repeated. “How was your morning run with Immy?”

“Brutal.” You replied. Why was this so uncomfortable?

“Listen, about last night—”

“It needed to be said.” You waved a hand nonchalantly. Your heart begged to differ, beating against your chest. “I was icing you out.”

“I didn’t mean to come off so harshly.” He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth nervously.

Was it possible for you to want a man more? Even during such an embarrassing display of emotion on your behalf? Trying not to focus on the fact you wanted to reach over and be the one tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, you stared at the wood grain of the table.

“I was stubborn.” You reasoned.

“Y/n Y/L/n, stubborn?” There was a tinge of amusement in his tone. “I guess there’s a first time for everything—I mean the taking accountability part at least.” You looked up, and saw him intently staring at you. Through the sarcasm, his brown eyes were warm like deep rich honey.

A ghost of a smile on your lips. “You know me better than anyone else apart from Imogen. The way I regarded you wasn’t fair.” You then contemplated your next words. “And I know—”

“Durran!” Dain walked over, Rhiannon, and a few other second and third year cadets behind him.

Bodhi flinched, shifting his attention to the group. “Yes, Wingleader Aetos?” He had icy malice as he took in Dain. You yourself could feel your anger rise when the third year came in your vicinity. He was the reason you had been in Resson, and why Liam and Soilel were dead.

Dain noted the unwelcome greeting from the both of you and faltered for a moment, heat flushing his cheeks. “We have a meeting.” He cleared his throat, straightening back up.

The man sat across from you glared over to the brunette man. “I’ll be right there.” He then turned back to you with a softer look in his eyes and an apologetic smile where the scowl was a moment prior. “Can we finish this conversation later?”

You could feel the eyes of Rihannon linger on the two of you, and you knew the others now were acutely aware of the interaction as well.

“Yeah, yeah. No worries.” You brushed it off, though disappointment filled you. You were finally getting somewhere, but you knew he couldn’t ignore the newly appointed wingleader.

You had been looking down in your lap, missing the subtle look back Bodhi gave you as he left with the group.

༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻

Later had come and gone with no sign of Bodhi still. Leaving a lurching feeling in your heart, but you tried not to wallow in self pity too much. You had thought maybe you deserved to be stood up. But at least you didn’t run this time, and it was his move now.

“The male of your affection causes too much of a distraction for you anyway.” Cleasaí huffed in your mind. Rolling your eyes you focused on the sketchbook in front of you. “Makes you a lovesick puppy as you would say.”

“Am not,” you bristled.

It was late in the afternoon and you were spending time with Cleasaí in the flight field, avoiding everyone. You had brought a blanket to lay on as you laid back against her front leg. She protectively curled around you, sunbathing, leaving you with a sufficient amount of shade to look at your sketchbook.

“I’m assuming you’ve never had a dragon that captured your affection?” You spoke out loud.

She nestled her head on the ground, huffing again. “I’d rather not say,” you could sense the disdain in her bored tone. A sly smile crept on your face, leaning up and staring right at the green dragon, who had feigned resting her eyes.

“You have, haven’t you?” Egging for more info from the clubtail.

“We haven’t been seeing eye to eye for a year.” Was all she grumbled. “Speaking of not seeing eye to eye. Your human approaches.”

“He’s not my human.” You hissed quietly, looking up to see Bodhi was indeed walking towards you, his dragon Cuir following a reasonable distance away.

“I’ve been looking for you.” He offered you a lazy smile, careful to avoid eye contact with Cleasaí. “Cuir said he thought he noticed Cleasaí leave the Vale.”

Your dragon sighed in annoyance. “Busybody,” she glowered in your head, causing you to grin. Did she mean Cuir or Bodhi? “I meant the annoying green one, but your human is quite a busybody as well. He couldn’t have waited until you came back from the flight field?” This caused a genuine laugh to escape your lips.

Bodhi only gave you a nervous look, “I hope she’s not talking about me.”

“You can tell him yes.” She grunted.

“No, she's just grumpy.” You lightly patted her scaly leg causing her to grunt again.

“How’s her claw?” He asked, scanning the injured back leg of hers.

“None of his business or that one’s over there.” She chuffed, baring her teeth toward Cuir. You didn’t know why she was persistent on one of her own den members not knowing of her condition.

Rolling your eyes, ignoring her. “She's doing better. She should be clear when lessons start again.”

Bodhi had a tight lipped smile on his own face, his shoulders shaking in laughter. Cuir whipping his head annoyed several yards behind him.

“I’m sorry, he can be quite the worrier especially over—”

An audible growl came from your dragon, earning a suspicious look from you.

“What is going on with you?” You scolded Cleasaí mentally.

“Worry about your own human afflictions.” Was all she said down the bond.

The man glanced at the book in your lap, and a grin spread across his cheeks. “You’re drawing in your sketchbook again?” He took a seat across from you on the ground, careful to not be too close to your dragon. Cuir had done the same in the distance.

You blushed slightly, “there’s a new sentimental value to it.” You chewed on your bottom lip, looking up at him. Bodhi had a gleam you couldn’t place in his eye, and his cheeks were blushed slightly too. You couldn’t help but smile broadly at his coyness. “I know you’re the one that brought the book back.”

“Who? Me? Why would I do that?” He propped his knees up, holding his forearms on them as he gazed up at the late afternoon sky.

He had always looked the handsomest during golden hour, your favorite features of his were enhanced. The tones of the setting sun had embraced his face, his eyes warm with gold flecks scattered throughout, and his onyx curls radiating chocolate brown undertones.

You tucked your hair behind your ear, “I don’t know I was wondering the same.” The broad smile painted on your face tilted downward.

“I thought maybe it would’ve been a dead giveaway, and you would have taken it as an olive branch.” He suggested, turning back to you.

You were thumbing at the page that it had been on, the textured parchment. Boy, were you an idiot.

“I thought you hated me or would have been tired of me by now.” You admitted.

“Why would I feel either of those things Y/n?”

“Because you offer me all this patience and kindness that I don’t deserve.” You said exasperated. “And in return I offer stubbornness and do everything in my power to avoid you.”

He chuckled dryly, “haven’t you realized? I don’t care.”

“Well I feel like you should.” This would be an argument that you wouldn’t let go. Screw Amari or Malek giving you a second chance, you didn’t feel worthy of that chance. Nor did you want to see anything happen to Bodhi if you were to accept him back into your life.

“Well, unfortunately I can’t control how I feel,” He looked back at the sketchbook in your lap. A smirk creeping onto his lips. “And apparently neither can you.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrow raised at him, and he only made a subtle gesture to the book. You looked down, your cheeks turning bright red.

You had been aimlessly sketching, not thinking too much about what you were putting on paper. It started as just a pair of eyes, but then turned to a full blown portrait of a man. Not just any man though, it had a striking resemblance to Bodhi.

Who were you trying to fool? It was him. From the crinkle by his eye when he’s amused to the unruly curls that always fell in his face.

“That’s all I need to know,” the smirk had turned to a shit eating grin.

You kept opening your mouth trying to respond, but you were left speechless.

“You can’t pull your shit anymore, Y/l/n.” He lifted himself off the ground, wiping the dirt off his leathers standing.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shake your head furiously, finding your voice finally.

You wanted to wipe the cocky look off his face desperately. “Whether you admit it or not, you can’t hide from me anymore.” He responded so cooly, it made you grit your teeth irritatedly. “Don’t worry, Y/n/n your secret’s safe with me.” He teasingly held his hand over his heart. “It’s rather endearing.”

“Bodhi,” you groaned. You could feel the heat evade your face and ears. “It’s not that serious—“

“Serious enough to me.” He didn’t let your annoyance faze him. “I’ll see you around.”

You rolled your eyes, watching him leave down to the main campus. Cuir takes off into the sky and back to the Vale, leaving you and Cleasaí alone again. Releasing a sigh of air that you hadn’t known you were holding when he got out of the ear shot.

‘Lovesick puppy.’ Your dragon had hummed amused. Deep chirping sounds audibly coming from her. Was she laughing at you?

“Me?” You were quick to turn and glower, your lip tugging upward in aggitatation. “How about we talk about you for a second? What the hell was that?”

‘It’s just sometimes the male greens can be so…” she paused. ‘Suffocating?’ She was choosing her words wisely. As though it seemed like she was hiding something, but not surprising you though. Cleasaí was rather secretive, it was what she was known for in the green den. A trickster of sorts, with cunning deception.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You pressed further.

She chuffed, “I’d rather not divulge that at the moment, but in due time...” She drew, sounding almost feline.

You knew better to argue, she was just as hard headed as you, and if you pushed her too hard, she’d push right back. Then that got you both nowhere. So you stood, gathering your things to retreat to your dorm and get ready for dinner and tonight’s shenanigans.

“Sooner than later, please.” You gave her an expectant look.

She got up, shaking out her scales and stretched a bit. “Yes yes sooner than later, don’t fret Lovesick puppy.”

“Stop calling me that!” You yelled over your shoulder as you retreated back to campus. You could hear the chuff she released in amusement in the distance as you descended the ancient stone stairs.

༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻

Thank you so much for the patience and the support! Please do not hesitate to let me know your thoughts and feedback. Also like and reblog 🫶🩷🤠

[starredforlife]

ok top five scenes from the kung fu panda universe (any of the movies, shorts, shows, etc). could be fight scenes, character moments, etc etc so on and so forth

FERN THIS IS SO HARD. FOR ME. UHM !!!!

ESCAPE FROM GONGMEN TOWER please watch it right now please please it's such an underrated scene musically and visually. this is the scene where tigress catches a flaming arrow and that's the exact moment i became a homosexual. vic history. it's also the scene where we see her chops as a leader of the five and the way she's fit into this role to balance out Po so well. and also all her potential as who she could've been, if she'd been chosen to be the dragon warrior herself. but she's not.

MUSICIAN'S VILLAGE I LOVE this scene the way it introduces, to the audience, that the score is going to play a part in the fight scenes of this movie is absolutely magnificent. and the way we get reintroduced to the furious five's + po's fighting style, and it reminds us immediately that they are formidable--and then sets up the inciting incident of the plot with so much mystery (and we see the 2d animation style again too, which has always represented po's inner subconscious. WHY DIDN'T THEY DO THAT FOR THE FOURTH MOVIE. whatever)

i would say the bridge fight (kfp1) and i adore that scene but i have to say, i really love the performances, the ambience, the color boards, the sound effects, and the emotional impact of shifu and tai lung's fight in the 3rd act more. i love when kfp actually invested time in its non-main protag characters. tai lung was an absolutely fascinating villain and this scene just rounds out his character so well

The entirety of the secrets of the scroll short film oh my god i love that one so much. teenage tigress. my baby girl.

FUCK okay and then the fireworks factory (2nd movie) where Po confronts Shen about his past. And he gets shot with a cannon and Tigress doesn't get to him in time. breaks my heart every time. i'm going to include the scene where Tigress and Po fight right before that in the jail too bc the musical score called "Fireworks Factory" starts with THEIR HUG. AND IT ENDS WITH HER RUNNING TO CATCH HIM. AND FAILING. MY BAKA LIFE !!!!! i don't even ship them anymore like i did when i was 14 i mostly just love tigress but their platonic relationship is v important to me. i have to include their hug bc that did irreparable damage to me as a tween. sorry the quality of the first vid is so ass. their relationship in the entire 2nd movie is so good i could write a whole analysis on it probably. it's paining me physically to not include their earlier boat scene talk.

this is also the scene where tigress snarls at the gorilla and that changed my brain chemistry forever.

i love the entire second movie this is so hard for me AUGHHHGHGH okay quick honorary mention: i also love the scene where we see shen fight the three masters (rhino, croc, ox). that quick fight scene is SO well executed. the dialogue and the performances are incredible. i used to have every line of dialogue of this movie memorized and especially loved reciting this scene (skip to 1:10)

and then if i had to pick a moment from the third one it's the one where oogway's statue gets wrecked at the jade palace. it lands emotionally very well for a scene that could have easily been mishandled too comedically or too quickly. like it still gives me chills. and i'm not even gonna touch on the character animation/acting of tigress and shifu here bc GOD. kai's theme does rock also!!! AND i LOVE the colors in this movie SO MUCH holy fuck

and then a minor detail from the first one is i love how the characters act with each other, namely the five and shifu. they clearly have a history and/or comradery with each other. shifu undoing the nerve damage tai lung did in a way specific to each of his students stands out to me in particular.

1 and 2 are masterpieces to me and i have my Things about the 3rd one but overall, a beautiful trilogy. i wish the 4th one didn't exist im killing it with my bare hands. vic hate movie? vic murder it. 5th rule of the streets.

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Rabbit's Fur

Numbers Game ~ Extra Scenes

This extra scene occurs during the few skipped days in Part 14 before our numbers girl's new clothes get delivered. There is some internal dialogue similar to what had already been happening since the beginning, but for the most part, it's just smut!

Pairings: Mihawk x Fem!Reader x Crocodile

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 654

Ao3 Link

Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: Mihawk wraps you up like a piece of candy, and Crocodile needs a taste.

Author's Note: This was inspired by this ask from a lovely anon! "Okay but numbers girl wearing crocs coat and mihawk's hat as they devour her." Not taking requests at the moment, but I figured we could use a break from all the angst for some shameless smut! And I couldn't get this image out of my head 🥵 I hope you enjoy it!

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Swearing, Smut, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Teasing, Cunnilingus, Biting, Ownership, Hair-Pulling, it's just smut y'all

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

“Look at how cute our little pet is, Crocodile,” Mihawk purred, turning you so that the larger man could see your nude body wrapped in that massive fur coat. He trailed his hand down your back, chuckling at the little sound you made when he squeezed your ass through the thick jacket. “I wonder if this is actually rabbit’s fur.”

“It’s–”

“I don’t wanna know,” you choked out, practically drowning in the weight of fur around you. 

“So brave,” Mihawk chuckled, danger burning in the air around him. “Brave enough to interrupt a deadly pirate? Maybe our little pet wants to play warlord. Think you’re strong enough to take us on, darling?”

“I…”

“Don’t get scared now. Do you need something else to fit the part,” he teased, shaking your face gently with his grip on your chin before laughing. He pulled the extravagant hat off of his head, setting it on yours before his eyes devoured you. “There you are, little rabbit. You look so fierce in your pretty, new armor. Are you ready to talk back now, darling?”

“Don’t be so mean, Hawk Eyes,” Crocodile rasped, moving between you. He knelt in front of you, heat running through your skin at the way he bit his lip. “You got her all wrapped up like a pretty piece of candy. Can I have a taste, sweetheart? I’ll forgive you for being rude if you let me take a bite.”

“Bite,” you whispered even as you nodded your consent. 

“Just wanna taste my sweet girl,” Crocodile threatened. His tongue was so close, until Mihawk made you yelp, curling himself around your back. 

The swordsman made sure to leave his hat on your head while he leaned down to kiss your neck. He reached his arm around that heavy coat to lift and hold one of your thighs, spreading you open for the man at your feet. 

“Thank you,” Crocodile laughed. Mihawk bit down on your neck just as Crocodile laid a sloppy kiss to your already dripping cunt.

You did feel powerful. In that moment, you were at their mercy. You were always in danger. 

But damn, it feels worth it. 

“Oh gods,” you whined, your eyes rolling back when Crocodile shoved that huge tongue inside of you. He growled while he ate you, so messy as he moved his face back and forth, his nose rubbing your clit just how you needed it. 

“Such a tasty rabbit,” Mihawk purred before nibbling on your ear. He fisted your hair below his hat, praising and teasing you until you whimpered for him. 

The scent of them surrounded you, and you felt claimed, owned once again with their clothes on your skin. Owned as they feasted upon your flesh. 

Owned as you screamed your pleasure, coming while Crocodile’s tongue invaded your desperate cunt, Mihawk’s wicked teeth marking your neck, the press of his hard cock taunting you through that fur coat. 

They kissed and caressed your skin, calling you so many pretty things while you came down. You almost laughed while you melted, letting yourself enjoy every moment. 

If I have to be owned… At least this is a pretty cage.

“Cute, little pet. Can’t wait to play dress up again when we get all of your pretty clothes. What do you think, Crocodile? Should our darling be a maid first? Maybe a sweet little nurse?”

Crocodile chuckled while your skin somehow went hot again. Shy, even after everything. 

“Mm, I know,” Mihawk rasped as he breathed along your face, teasing your ear with his dangerous tongue. “You’ll be my little rabbit. My tasty, little pet.”

Gasping as he grabbed your face to kiss you, you clung to him with weak fingers, shaking beneath the greedy look in his eyes when he pulled back.

“I am going to eat you all up, pet,” Mihawk promised. “Until there's nothing left.”

And you were going to let him.

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: Okay, back to writing Part 22! How do y'all think our lil polycule is doing on the morning of the big party? 🤔

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak | @djloveyou3000

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[aluria-sevhex]

HELL FUCKING YESSSSSSSS

hey if you wanna read all of my posts as i play through ISAT, they are all tagged as #Aluria plays ISAT for the first time (please don't spoil)

notes:

-aight i'm back yippee

-title theme my beloved

-i always find it so funny when an enemy tries to freeze Mira

-gonna try this boss again

-ok i think i'll just replay Floor 3 on this loop instead of looping forward after i find out another one of Bonnie's favorite foods so i can build up everybody's stats

-OH. BONNIE OVERHEARD THE DEATH CONVERSATION.

-heh Bonnie slapped Siffrin

-uh... the audio is REALLY ominous...

-oh, Bonnie...

-WAIT WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT DID I JUST LOOP SLIGHTLY BACK IN THE PAST?

-Siffrin you ok i don't think that was helping ur mental health issues your eye is covered in shadow in your dialogue portrait

-i will once again NOT kill Siffrin via anaphylaxis. i will take the fish head

-...i didn't. get info on Bonnie's favorite foods this time.

-ok according to the save screen that didn't count as a loop

-anyway time to try looping to get the Bonnie snack info

-hey... the Tear dialogue isn't as silly anymore (it just says yes or no without the 'looping time' or 'living time')

-hey i didn't skip any loops this time!

-time to kill this pair of assholes again

-"carry my ashes with you" aw that's a sweet dialogue option

-i am so tempted to kill Siffrin. but i won't.

-awwww... i talked to Bonnie and now Sif is comforting them

-ok how the fuck do i get the info. BONNIE PLS.

-hold up. does Siffrin no longer nod when zoning out? :((((

-WAIT FUCK DID I FORGET TO GET THE KEY ON FLOOR 2.

-...Mira's roommate. was learning to make bombs. why???

-lol Isa knows how to make a bomb

-Mira has anti-anxiety meds. this makes a lot of sense tbh

-...what are these papers for???

-so i decided to try using the silver coin since a person said that you can do something with it related to the croissant lore. and it said "you think about the Incident" or smth like that lol

-lol Sif forgot the term 'stuffed animal'

-idk why but it feels like a lot of Craft skills are like. slower. or have bigger cooldowns in Act 3. even tho i KNOW they don't and my brain is fucking with me

-ok the game accounted for the key thing

-in the bathroom again

-Sif is calming themself again and figuring out what to do

-Siffrin, self-loathing and calling yourself stupid won't help :(

-i zoned out at some minor dialogue but i don't remember what the dialogue was the first time so i am fucking clueless about what was going on with a choice i made. sorry Mira idk why i 'saved you' by smacking your mouth ;_;

-i love getting to obliterate weaker Rock enemies with Paper α V

-i have now gotten Sif to level 60

-sometimes it's nice to take a break and talk to Loop

-wait a sec. doesn't one of the lower floors have a sharpening stone?

-ok it's been a while and now i have everybody back to level 52. time to kick the asses of the 3rd floor boss

-ooo Odile got a new skill

-time for the last snack break!

-Bonnie's upset now because i didn't try the fritters D:

-time to face the King again... and hopefully talk to him

-welp. *that* didn't work

-oh nvm now i can ask him questions via the Craft menu!

-you. you can give the King the flower.

-yeah the characters have a point! why Vaugarde specifically?

-the King is NOT responsible but he says Siffrin has an odd smell. huh... the only other things where an odd smell has been noted is Bonnie saying the star crest Sadnesses smell odd... but if Sif had that smell then it would've been noticed sooner...

-dude. how rude to say that if Siffrin doesn't understand Time Craft they can't understand the King's methods. maybe i should read more on Time Craft in one of the libraries? or that one book on craftonomy...

-the "you have heard this before" for zoning out got more and more annoyed

-once again. what does the King need to say?

-hm i was talking to Odile and Bonnie piped in really excitedly that they have more pineapple in their pocket

-GOD FUCKING DAMMIT MIRABELLE I LOVE YOU BUT YOU STOPPED ISA'S CONFESSION ToT

-time to talk to Euphrasie and loop again ig

-hey what's that in her hair?

-"you inhale sharply, almost choking on the smell of burnt sugar around you" BURNT SUGAR BURNT SUGAR THAT'S THE SMELL OF TIME SHENANIGANS AS SEEN WITH THOSE SADNESSES

-SAY SOMETHING ELSE EUPHRASIE

-how do i get the familytale?

-ok i talked to Odile and i'm gonna help her!

-am i gonna have to go all over town for this?

lmao yeah i think i will

-oh hey the wizard-loving kid is named Manon

-oh my god. i have to go back to the boulanger

-FINALLY

-:O THERE IS NO RESEARCH???

-oh THAT'S why Odile is in Vaugarde

-oh... her mom left... all of her travels here have been to try to reconnect with that part of her...

-HEY SIFFRIN I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING WHERE THE *FUCK* ARE YOU FROM?

-damn. bro has amnesia

-LMAO I ASKED MIRA ABOUT THE PAPERS AND THE BATTLE THEME STARTED

-...bonding proposals???

-oh my god Mira joined a dating website group

-"we have one of those at home"

-"oh, i don't have a type! i like all kinds of people equally!" is this in a bi way or an aro way

-YEAH AROMANTIC REPRESENTATION

-DIVERSITY WIN! THE KICKASS HANDMAIDEN WHO'S IMMUNE TO BEING FROZEN IN TIME AND THE SORT-OF CHOSEN ONE IS ARO!!! I FUCKING CALLED IT YEAHHHHHHHH :D

-oh, Mira :( you're not the problem you don't have to do anything like that you're not comfortable with

-hm this game is dealing with personal identity a lot

-:( :( :( oh, Mira...

-DIVERSITY WIN!!! THE SKETCHY WANDERER STUCK IN A TIME LOOP WITH MENTAL HEALTH PROBLEMS IS ACE!!!

-MY BLORBOS ARE ACE AND AROACE FUCK YEAH I AM SO HAPPY

-FUCK IT I'M POSTING NOW

SERIOUSLY THO I DON'T THINK I CAN ACCURATELY CONVEY HOW FUCKING HAPPY THIS PART IS MAKING ME. TWO OF MY FAVORITES ARE ACE AND AROACE HELL FUCKING YES

[homielander]

i don't quite understand why ryan and homelander are back to the pre-4.05 status quo? ryan is once again being funneled through the vought media circus. he can't even get in touch with homelander. i am trying to follow this progression: homelander accepting firecracker's offer at the end of 4.06 represents more broadly that he can't quash the part of him that longs for love, try as he might. okay, sure. fine. but clearly this is not incompatible with his goal to take over the country, which he pursues throughout the episode. and he's grimly accepted that the realization of this goal also means that supes will "no longer be beloved celebrities . . . but wrathful gods." so why is ryan still being forced to play to the cameras? wasn't homelander over public adoration before he renounced humanity, anyway? what happened to homelander's promise that ryan could do whatever he wanted? this shift didn't even warrant a brief onscreen conversation?

i understand the larger contrast being illustrated and even like it -- homelander can't escape the rut of doing everything he does in service of vought, surrounding himself with yes-men, engaging in an emotionally hollow relationship likely to end violently, so on and so forth. meanwhile ryan breaks from the mould, refuses to let himself be puppeteered (literally), mirrors his father's live breakdown from last season but embraces his humanity by talking about becca and the values she instilled in him, rather than declaring his superiority over everyone else. it works, but the execution leaves a lot to be desired.

i just don't like how consistently miserable the depiction of their life together is. episodes 1 to 3 were full of expository and stilted dialogue as though they'd been living together for a week rather than six months, and the reprieve in episode 5 may as well have been skipped over considering it hasn't been resolved at all. i also just can't wrap my head around why homelander, who does love his son and craves domesticity, would be absent for their first christmas together. i am okay with the general direction of their relationship i guess, but i really wish we had gotten a more nuanced portrayal.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE *  assorted (and slightly adapted to suit this meme format) dialogue from the book by casey mcquiston, adjust as necessary

on purpose. i love him on purpose.

i've always thought of myself as a problem that deserved to stay hidden.

i'm going to have you offed. you'll never see it coming.

take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.

get in there.

you're literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state.

before you, i was all right letting everything happen to me.

i can't believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.

sorry, are we not? did i skip ahead again?

you've been warned.

he died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.

my life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person.

hey, have i told you lately that you're brave?

i honestly have never thought i deserved to choose.

we're gonna make it work. you and me and history, remember?

if you finish that sentence, i'm gonna spend tonight in jail.

but the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable.

i actively wish for the sweet release of death.

yes, good, carry on.

i won't hear a word against it.

we're gonna do it together.

i said you look great, baby!

i meet you in every dream, and when i wake i cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness.

i'm so in love i could die.

you can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse.

i wonder if it's too late to swan dive off the roof.

i'm learning all your hidden depths today, sweetheart.

you must invent an entirely new system.

a curious thing about grief is the way it takes your entire life, all those foundational years that made you who you are, and makes them so painful to look back on.

he's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is.

i've bloody well had it!

we can unpack the ironic symbolism later.

that's beyond our sense of decorum!

i'm not afraid of anything i feel. i'm afraid of saying it. i'm only afraid of what happens when i do.

aw, you do care.

if there's any legacy for me on this earth, i want it to be true.

straight people probably don't spend this much time convincing themselves that they're straight.

the moment you first called me a prick, my fate was sealed.

you are the absolute worst idea i've ever had.

should i tell you that when we're apart, your body comes back to me in dreams?

can you perhaps stop putting your sodding life in danger now?

what are we even defending here?

history will remember us.

when i sleep, i see you.

i hate this so much.

every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it with.

we're just gonna fucking fight.

he is my choice.

i can appreciate that maybe this isn't your fault.

i've been gay as a maypole since the day i came out of mom.

when i wake up in the morning, it feels like i've just been with you.

i can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache.

your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing.

for a few moments, i can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all.

the phrase 'see attached bibliography' is the single sexiest thing you have ever written me.

i promise you, one day we'll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

i want to set myself on fire, but i can't afford for anyone to see me burn.

you see, for me, memories are difficult.

never tell me the odds.

i wish there weren't a wall.

jesus christ, it's like they can see into your soul.

you're it, okay? i'm never gonna love anybody in the world like i love you.

i'm finished. i don't care.

god, i want to fight everyone who's ever hurt you.

the whole world watched, and history remembered.

are you quite finished?

just so we're clear. i'm about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family.

you insane, hopeless romantic little shit.

[irkimatsu]

"Could I just be a creepy old guy for a second?"

THE WAY I FOLDED- WE NEED (whenever you've gotten around to seeing this of course, no rush bby 😚) MORE OF HUSK BEING A CREEPY OLD MAN AT RANDOM TIMES WITH HIS CHUBBY S/O-

The way my heart can't handle this..

SDGFDGDFGD THAT FUCKING IMAGE. ANYWAY.

Sorry for the delay, but it's finally finished, and as always, I had so much fun answering this request! I love letting Husk be openly horny. The request for a chubby S/O is just the icing on the cake!

...I actually missed the "random times" part, oops, so it's not entirely random... but still, 2.5k words of Husk groping chubby Fem!Reader and enjoying what he feels! NSFW!

---

Your relationship with Husk has been going well for the past couple weeks. You’re not sure exactly when your feelings shifted to something more than friendship, but you could see the change in his behavior that told you he wanted more out of this. The grouchy old man has a surprisingly romantic side. If someone tried telling you that when you’d first met him, you would have laughed in their face.

But then came the first night that he took you out dancing. It started as a high energy affair, with him teaching you how to swing dance, a surprising amount of energy coursing through his old body. Then the lights dimmed, and the music slowed down. He took your hands in his for the first song or two, but before long, you had his arms around your waist and your hands on his shoulders. You’ll never forget the way he looked as you gazed up at him, his eyes lidded, his pupils wide, the small curve of his mouth speaking so much more joy than his usual smirk ever did.

“May I?” he whispered as he moved his face closer to yours. You didn’t protest as he gently pressed his mouth against yours.

The air between you was never the same after that night. The light you saw in his eyes during that dance always returns whenever you approach him, and your own heart skips a beat in turn. He’s been sure to let you know that dance wasn’t just a one-off, either. He regularly takes you out or presents you with gifts, and a night hasn’t been complete without him chastely kissing you good night on your way back to your hotel room, or even hugging you close for just long enough that you can tell he doesn’t want you to go. You adore all the attention he lavishes on you, and hope you’ve been able to return his affection enough.

However, he’s yet to show any sexual interest in you.

It shouldn’t surprise you, really. He was an old man when he died; surely his libido had calmed down a lot by then, if he ever had one. Not only that, but he’d also spent god knows how long, both on Earth and in Hell, working in casinos, surrounded by beautiful dancers and socialites. He’s had ages to get his fill of sexuality, and by now he must be so bored of it. He certainly doesn’t show any interest when Angel decides to play his own movies at full blast in the middle of the lobby. Husk only acknowledges the filth on screen to point out plot holes or especially shitty dialogue.

You’re sure it doesn’t help that you’re considerably overweight, either. Not only are you by far the fattest member of the hotel, but you’ve seen the types of actors that show up in Angel’s movies; everyone’s either built like a brick wall with a massive six pack, or skinny enough for said brick walls to lift in a single fist. People like you aren’t sexually attractive, especially not down here in Hell. How are you supposed to get the attention of a man as experienced as Husk?

It’d be nice if you could, but you know there’s just no way…

You’re trying not to think about it as you sit at your boyfriend’s bar, chatting away about nothing in particular. His gaze is glowing as bright as it ever does when you’re around, and you can’t take your eyes off of him yourself.

You can’t stop thinking about how badly you want to bury your hands in the fur on his cheeks as you kiss him so much more firmly than he’s ever kissed you. How badly you want his hands on your hips as he pulls you close enough for you to feel his excitement. How badly you want his voice, a deep and gravelly tone that makes your stomach flip no matter what he says, telling you all the sensual and downright lewd things he wants to do with you…

You try to clear your head with a sip of your alcohol. It’s never going to happen. Not with a man like him. He’s much more concerned with romance than he is with base pleasures like that. You know that’s something you should admire about him, but still...

The conversation lulls as he turns around to start putting bottles away. Is it already that late? You wish you didn’t have to leave him so soon… you keep your eyes on his swishing tail and wide-spread wings, trying to commit every angle of him to memory. You’re going to need them to deal with the loneliness tonight.

“Guess it’s time to say good night, huh?” you say as you get up off the stool. “It’s been nice talking, as always. See you in the morning?”

He turns his head to look at you. He doesn’t say a word; his twitching tail is the closest he gets to communicating in that moment. He finishes lining up some bottles, then still without speaking, he walks out from behind the bar and pulls you into his usual embrace. The fur on his cheek tickles the side of your neck as he leans his head against yours. You’re probably hugging him even more tightly than usual, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You just can’t bear to let him go…

“Hey… you wanna come to my room with me?” he asks.

He pulls back slightly from the embrace so he can look at you, though he hasn’t stopped holding your waist. He’s giving you his usual charming smile, but his tail is twitching much more rapidly than before.

“No pressure!” he assures you with a laugh. “You don’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna! I just… wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with you, ya know?”

His room… he’s never invited you to his room before. You know what men are typically after when they invite the object of their affections to their bedrooms…

…but this is still Husk. He probably just wants to keep talking to you.

“I’d like that… let’s go to your room.”

—

He did not want to simply keep talking to you.

Sure, it started as just talking, as you commented on the framed vinyls and promotional show posters he had hanging on his walls. He’s always more than happy to talk about his taste in music and magic acts, and you love how much he lights up when he discusses his passions.

But those aren’t the passions he wants to linger on tonight. After a break in the conversation, you’re about to ask about another poster, but he speaks before you can.

“Can I kiss you?”

You accept the kiss, expecting his usual chasteness, but that’s far from what you end up with. It isn’t long before you’re sitting on the edge of his bed with him as he holds your hips and kisses you firmly.

“You’re real cute, you know…” he says, breathing heavily, before taking a few more kisses. It’s not a full on makeout, but he’s lingering on every kiss and lightly moaning against your mouth.

Your heart skips a beat as his claws graze their way down your face.

“...you really think so?” is all your stupid brain can think of in response.

“What? Of course I think so!” he says. “I’m dating you, ain’t I?” He’s stopped kissing you for now to admire you. “I thought you were cute the day you showed up here. I didn’t say anything then because it takes more than being cute to impress me… but it sure does help.”

“You’ve never said anything about it before, so I thought…”

“I just don’t want you to think that’s all I see in you. You’ve got a good heart, you’re a great dancer… I love spending time with you.” He follows up the compliments with another kiss. “There’s so much I like about you, you’re not just a pretty face… but I’ll compliment your looks more often if you want me to. I just don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

So he is attracted to you… that’s good to hear.

But is it just an aesthetic attraction…?

“...I wanna ask something weird,” you say. “You don’t have to answer.”

“Is everything okay?” he says. “You know you can ask me anything.”

It takes you a second to build up the guts to ask him. “Are you… into me? I mean… sexually?”

His cheeks darken and his tail starts twitching again, but he doesn’t say anything.

“It’s okay if you’re not!” you quickly clarify. “I mean, you’re so much older, you’ve seen so much already… it must take a lot to impress you, right? If anything impresses you anymore, I mean! It doesn’t have to! That’s not all a relationship is, right?” Your nervous laughter isn’t quite sane as you ramble without thinking about what you’re saying. “Oh, forget I said anything! It’s fine! I’ll just-”

You move to leave the room in sheer embarrassment, but you’re stopped by his paw grabbing your hand.

“Hey. Come here,” he says. You’re wary about it at first; how could you move closer to him after making such a fool of yourself? But the way he’s looking at you is so warm, so inviting… you can’t help but lean into him. He hugs you tightly the instant your head is on his shoulder. God, he’s so soft…

“Look. You’re right. Relationships ain’t just sex. I don’t want you to think that’s the only reason I’m here, or that I’m moving too fast, nothing like that. I like you way too much to risk scaring you off.” He lifts your chin with his claw and tilts your face up, a move that always absolutely kills you. “But since you’re asking… yeah. I am absolutely sexually attracted to you.”

“Even after all you’ve seen?” you ask. “Surely the dancers at your casinos were a lot…” Skinnier. “A lot more conventionally attractive…”

“You wanna sit on my lap?” he asks. “I wanna show you something. If you want me to stop, I’ll stop.”

He had you at the offer to sit on his lap. Without thinking about what he might be planning, you sit on his thighs, your back facing him. He grunts a little as you press your weight down on him, but before you can apologize, he’s distracting you by stroking your thighs through your pants.

“It’s true I’ve seen a lot of bodies,” he admits as he touches you. “And anyone can be sexy to me if I like their heart enough… but even a man like me has his preferences.”

You moan slightly as he squeezes your thighs. “And my preference has something for me to hold onto.”

His paws run their way up your thighs and to your sides. He lifts your shirt just enough to squeeze your plush flesh, and it tickles enough that you’re not sure whether to laugh or moan.

“Mmm… fuckin’ soft…” He keeps squeezing you as he peppers the side of your neck with kisses. “You like that?”

You moan and nod instead of speaking. It’s enough for him.

“Keep going?” he asks. You nod again, so he slips his paws further into your shirt.

“I’ve wanted this for a while,” he admits, his deep voice in your ear making your nerves tingle. “I just didn’t want you to think I was some dirty old man…”

“Maybe I like dirty old men,” you respond.

“Hey!” he says with a laugh. “Don’t you tempt me!” He kisses your neck again, more firmly this time, followed by a few laps from his rough tongue. “You don’t really want my hands all over you this soon, do you?”

“What if I do?” you ask. You grab his wrists through your shirt and pull up on them, hoping for him to take the hint.

Take it he does, as he moves his paws up further to grope your breasts through your bra. You’ve never considered your chest particularly big, especially not in comparison to the rest of your body, but he’s finding plenty to squeeze and massage. His claws are just barely perceptible to your skin, with the padding of the bra protecting your nerves from them.

You want that padding out of the way.

“Fuckin’ tease…” he groans before kissing your neck again.

He’s one to talk.

As he kisses and gropes you, you gain enough presence of mind to start unfastening your pants. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his ear twitching at the sound of your zipper being pulled down.

“You don’t gotta-”

“I wanna,” you assure him. “Please…”

One paw stays on your breast while the other strokes its way back down, pausing briefly to squeeze your belly before finally taking the hem of your pants. You help him ease your pants off your body, but soon you’re the only one undressing yourself as he gets distracted and squeezes your thigh.

“God that’s good…” he moans in your ear. “Softest thing I’ve felt in ages…” He chuckles in your ear, and you can’t help but clench between your legs. “Well, since you already know I’m filthy… you wanna know where I wanna feel those soft thighs of yours?”

The way he drags his rough tongue up the side of your neck gives you a clue…

—

You’re sitting at the bar the next afternoon, chatting with Husk and Angel and trying to pretend that everything is normal. Nothing happened in that bedroom, as far as anyone else in the hotel should know. You just talked, then went to spend the night alone in your own room. That was all.

Your pants totally aren’t hiding deep gashes from Husk gripping your thighs while he feasted on you like you were a five-course meal. You tug your shirt down, not trying to hide any scratches on your hips. You’re careful not to let your shirt slip off your shoulder, even if it’s not like anyone would see any fang marks if it did.

Husk glances at you as you adjust your shirt. His face darkens, and he quickly turns away. You notice that it did slip off your shoulder, and pull it back up before Angel can look and see what’s totally not there.

God, it’s going to be hard to hide this for very long.

“Husk!” Charlie calls, and you all turn to see her waving. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Be right there!” he calls. He drops the rag he was using to appear busy in the sink behind the bar, then steps out and stands by your side. “Keep talking in a bit?” he asks.

“Of course,” you say with a smile. Smiling back, he leans down to chastely kiss your cheek.

He also takes the opportunity to squeeze your ass before going to see what Charlie wants. You don’t hear any scandalized yelling from her, so she probably didn’t notice.

Angel will fix that. “What was that about, you dirty old man?!” he calls after him, laughing. “You, of all people, just gropin’ young chicks at your bar?! The hell’s wrong with you?!”

Your face is so hot that you might break into a sweat, but overall, you don’t mind it. “Don’t worry about it, Angel, he’s fine,” is the only explanation you give before returning to your drink.