#good lord I can’t fucking believe I have to specify

[iamfabiloz]

please.. just as a reminder… if u draw or support feral nsfw (I don’t give a shit if the cat or pony or whatever can talk, they are not humanoids) please get off of my blog forever or I will run your head thru a cheese shredder

[gojoandtojisleftnut]

TOJI FUSHIGURO BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS

Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x female reader

A/n & possible tw: Daddy issues entered the chat -> fluff, smut, pronouns not specified.

Nanami version Gojo version

SFW

- you’re his little girl you can do no wrong in his eyes.

- very protective

- will always hold your hand when you’re outside. If it’s cold he’ll put his arm around your shoulder to keep you close.

- there’s a size difference for sure and he always takes advantage of it. He’ll manhandle you anywhere, anytime of the day.

- I believe he’s a good cook so he’ll place you on the kitchen counter while he’s cooking to keep him company. He takes breaks to come to you and kiss you while you munch on a carrot or something.

- he has trust issues due to trauma so in the beginning he was pretty reluctant.

- calls you “baby girl” “baby” or his “little girl”.

- he coos at you all the time taking your face in his hands.

- talking about hands. He’s a big guy and that means best cuddles ever. He wraps his arms around you while sitting on the couch, your arms and legs around him like a koala. Your head buried in the Milkers™️.

- let’s you sleep on him.

- he gets insecure about his lip scar but you always reassure him and kiss it.

- he loves compliments even if he pretends he doesn’t.

- making out with Toji consists of a lot touching. They last long cause he likes to tease you before he fucks your brains out.

- Toji is the sunshine x grumpy trope.

- ass man. He’s grab your ass at any given moment.

- huge fan of pda. Doesn’t care who’s watching. He’ll kiss and fondle your ass anywhere.

- gets jealous of your plushies or your celebrity crushes. As if.

NSFW

- oof where do I begin.

- huge dick I know it I see it everyday. 20cm for sure (8 inches). He’s thick too I’ll give him 5cm width. It’s veiny and heavy. (Lord forgive me.)

- call him daddy he’ll go feral.

- he fucks hard and with no mercy.

- he’ll bend you over the table, the counter. On the couch on the floor everywhere.

- he’s possessive so he doesn’t mind showing others who you belong to. He’ll even fuck you on the balcony just to prove the neighbor that’s hitting on you that your Toji’s and Toji’s only.

- Mating press is his favorite position.

- You’ll get at least three rounds of rough sex.

- you can’t sleep? He’ll fuck you to sleep.

- You guys have sex tapes. Multiple of them. His phone is full videos and pictures of you. Naked, sucking his cock everything you can imagine.

- there are times when he’s feeling down so he’ll make love to you.

- Aftercare is a must. He knows he goes hard on you so he needs to take care of your sore body. Will runs you a bath and carry you there. He’ll wash you up too.

[missnight0wl]

So they finally explained how the hell Penny's grandma inspired her love for potions, turns out it was her step grandma. I've always found it stupid since none of Penny's biological grandparents can possibly be magical.

Good Lord. This is just… so fucking stupid.

Ok, let’s analyse it.

If she’s Penny’s step-grandmother, it means that Penny’s grandfather remarried at some point, right? I’m gonna assume that it also happened pretty late in his life. In fact, I believe that it happened after Penny was born, and so she probably knew her biological grandmother. I mean, I know you’d learn about your parents remarrying sooner or later, but your grandparents? And even if you’d learn about it by viewing old photos or something, I imagine you wouldn’t care about this information to the point that you have to explain it during a conversation with your friend. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but it’s almost like Penny feels the need to explain herself, and why would she feel such a need if “Gran Haywood” was the only Gran she ever knew? On top of that, we know that Penny’s dad knows shit about potions:

… which makes me believe that he wasn’t raised by his magical stepmother. Admittedly, she might’ve been hiding her magic power, but from what I gathered, she doesn’t sound like the type that would.

So… let’s try to summarise it.

Mr Haywood Sr married a Muggle woman, and they had a Muggle son: Mr Haywood Jr. In his adult life, Mr Hatwood Jr met a woman who happened to be a Muggle-born witch, and they had Penny and Beatrice. At some point, something happened to Mr Haywood Jr’s biological mother (she died or they got a divorce). Mr Haywood Sr then met another woman who happened to also be a witch, proving that the Haywood men apparently have a thing for witches. It’s quite likely that Penny attended the wedding of Mr Haywood Sr and her new stepmother.

WHY THE FUCK JC EVEN DECIDED TO SPECIFY IT IF IT ONLY MADE THINGS WORSE??

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that situation is impossible. Hell, I basically just explained how it could be possible. But here’s the thing. If you create a family backstory this convoluted and wacky, you do it to be a thing. There’s no fucking way Penny wouldn’t mention it until now if it was always meant to be, especially since she talked about her family background in this context.

But she didn’t ever mention how ridiculous it was that her grandpa married a witch just a couple of years later after his son did the same thing because it wasn’t meant to be. Penny was meant to be a character with no magical background except for her mother, who’s a Muggleborn. But JC saw us complaining about “Gran Haywood”, and they were like: “Oh, we can fix it!”. But guess what? You can’t You just fucking can’t. You should’ve just left it because sometimes when you fuck up, you just have to leave it.

The only way they could fix it is by changing Penny’s romance SQ and switching “Grand Haywood” to the aunt on Penny’ mother's side. We know that Muggle parents can have two magical children, even if it’s rare (see: Colin and Dennis Creevey). I truly don’t understand why they didn’t do it, to begin with, because not only it makes more sense, but also it could be used for a pretty interesting story where we learn more about Penny and Beatrice vs. Penny’s mum and aunt.

But no! JC always has to make things worse!

[evansbby]

My notes as I’m reading WG 3 (spoiler alert)

Buckle up, babes, it’s a doozy, I mean, not a 21k word doozy, but nonetheless. And I hope at least someone felt the same way

- ugh, not Curtis being better to Wanda than either Ari or Steve has been. He was lowkey a creep tho??

- Yay, Ari came to find her #teamAri

- Lol at Ari calling Steve a slimeball (he really is one. I’m calling it now)

- Props for not folding during the spanking. You go girl. Call him out on not making you his gf

- Not Ari catching himself almost saying ILY Oop

- Period. You do deserve better than late night dates

- *gasp* he’s not gonna fight for her??

- Crying at the slammed door

- Not Wanda dating Curtis and him acting like he doesn’t know anything 🙄

- I REFUSE to believe Sharon was so blind to Ari cheating on her but why’s she being so nice about the dress? Is Ari that good to her?

- Lol at Ari calling Steve volatile but I bet he lowkey is

- Ari calling Steve bad news? It’s gotta be true. I know it

- Lol at Wanda calling her not Curtis’s type

- Oh Steve. What are you doing at practice??? You’re a filthy liar. NOT a gentleman

- Steve out here being a little TOO forward and Sharon’s so nice but SO blind. What does she mean Ari’s not possessive?? Why is he even with her? What on earth could be tethering the two????

- Lol at the stare-down over ‘lame boy stuff’

- I know Steve is unhinged but him calling Curtis a “Bald fuck” is hilarious

- *omg. Half of these are about name-calling. Do I have the humor of a 12-year-old boy?*

- Lol at Jensen the little announcer. What a cutie

- 🥺poor Jensen lost his glasses

- *GASP* it hit her in the face

- Ari to the rescue

- Ari praise in the bathroom? Yes please.

- ARI APOLOGIZED!!! (But sadly not for everything) THE KISS!!! Sharon better not walk in with the ice…

- ARI PLS JUST TELL HER WHAT STEVE DID

- LOL Sharon, you’re too kind with the ice haha

- Not Steve threatening her on the date. Isn’t he dating her to make Ari jealous tho?? Even just a little bit?

- Ofc she’s smiling at the thought of her ‘date’ with Ari. Idk where this date is going with Steve but I’m scared

- Lol you’re so British for specifying still water. I love it

- Not Kira being scared of Steve. That’s a bad sign

- Omg why did Kira drop out? Is Steve implying it has to do with Ari??

- Steve, you slimeball trying to seduce her before the date. Is it all a ruse????

- IT WAS A RUSE. AND WHY DOESNT HE UNDERSTAND SHE WANTS TO GO HOME??

- Steve, give the girl a shirt that isn’t ripped and send her home.

- Not Steve punching the wall 🤦🏻‍♀️typical frat bro behavior

- “Stop struggling for one second”??????? STEVE!!! YOURE INSANE. I CALLED IT!!!

- Oh Kira, you girl boss. Way to step in. Perfectly timed

- *GASP* ARI BROKE UP WITH SHARON. SOUND THE ALARMS. What do you mean you don’t care????

- Obviously Ari recognizes the hoodie. Something def happened with Kira

- Bestie, Ari’s not acting. Let him care for you

Questions:

1. TEAM ARI BISH. I KNEW IT THE WHOLE TIME AND I TOLD Y’ALL

2. Steve is so unhinged and definitely has some issues he has to work through. MY question is how was Kira able to snap him out of it so easily??

3. Wanda is an ok friend. She’s just a little selfish but obvi doesn’t know what really happened with Curtis and Ari. Can’t really blame her for that even tho she’s a little insensitive

4. Like I said, something def happened between Ari and Kira, but that still doesn’t explain why Ari says Steve is bad news. What was the extent of Steve’s dark past???

I love you for making this but I think I have more questions than when I started. Hopefully Ari will keep pining after her and wait outside her door. Lord knows this girl needs mental support but idk if it’s best to come from Ari. Who could possibly help her truly heal? Does she just need a little time? And what difference would that make then if Ari is a senior and she’s a freshman? What’s supposed to happen when he graduates and if he goes pro??? And also, what on earth was making Ari hold onto Sharon for so long?

Omg I love this sm! I love that you gave a play by play commentary of notes as you read the fic! Thank you sooo much for this, I love it so much! 🥹🥹🥹🩷

Yasss you caught Ari almost dropping the L bomb!!! I love doing that in my fics hehehe it happened in poyt too!!

AND OMG yes thank you for noticing “bald fuck” bc that made me giggle bahahaha. Unhinged!Steve has some funny insults in him I can’t lie!

AND OMFG DO ONLY BRITISH PEOPLE SPECIFY STILL WATER??? Help I thought everyone did that! Bc how are you supposed to differentiate it from sparkling water??? If he’s giving her a bottle of water and he’s rich so he deffo has both still and sparkling in his fridge so he’s gonna ask her which one right??? AM I CRAZY JSNXJSJSJS

Oh and bestie Kira is not afraid of Steve! She was just anxious bc someone she didn’t know was in the house! She’s not good with people she doesn’t know! Bc if you reread the scene, Kira literally comes into the kitchen looking for Steve! And she’s the one who is able to stop him when he’s going insane at the end… so she is definitely definitely not afraid of Steve!!! That’s her big bro 🥹🥹

BESTIEEEEE thank you so much for reviewing!!! This was a pleasure to read! I love how enthusiastically you are on team Ari! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

[thearvariblues]

The Mysterious Case of Jaskier's Immortality

Word count: 3601

*

“So nice to see you again, Yennefer,” Jaskier says, putting on one of his many fake smiles.

“Jaskier,” she replies with a smile that almost looks genuine but Jaskier is pretty sure that it’s not. Which she confirms a few seconds later by saying: “Shouldn’t you be dead already?”

“I see you’re as kind as always, my dear. But don’t you worry, Geralt is doing a very good job when it comes to protecting me.”

“Hm,” Geralt sighs resignedly, clearly regretting his decision to spend the night in an inn instead of the middle of a forest.

To be fair, it was Jaskier who suggested it, claiming that he refused to be eaten by angry drowners, no matter how many times Geralt tried to explain to him that the probability of finding a drowner in the middle of a very dry forest is extremely low.

If Jaskier knew they were going to run into Yennefer in the inn, he would have risked the drowners.

“I don’t doubt that,” Yennefer smirks. “But seriously, how old are you, bard?”

“No idea. I stopped counting after fifty, I think.”

“You know, you don’t look fifty,” she says.

“Oh, well, my mother had an elf lover before I was born, so there’s a fifty-fifty chance that I’m not gonna age anytime soon. Sorry,” Jaskier smiles again, sweetly – and this time, it’s genuine.

“As if,” Geralt grunts.

“I’m sorry, dear?” Jaskier blinks.

“Come on, Jaskier, it doesn’t work like that. You’re a viscount, that means your father must have been a viscount, too.”

“You don’t know much about nobility, do you, Geralt?” Yennefer snorts.

“Hm,” Geralt grunts. “Still, he’s not a half-elf.”

“Let me guess, you’re a Witcher, therefore you could smell it if I was? I hate to break it to you, dear heart, but you’re going to have your nose checked.”

“You’re not a half-elf, Jaskier,” Geralt repeats. “You’re not immortal, you just… look young.”

“Yeah, right, you got me,” Jaskier shrugs. “I just look good because I moisturize. Happier now?”

“Much,” Geralt nods. “See? You can be honest if you want.”

“Yup,” Jaskier nods. “Honesty personified. Now please excuse me, I need to go and moisturize some more. Internally. With ale.”

*

“I’m actually a mermaid, you know?” Jaskier grins the next time he’s asked, this time by a very confused and very old Valdo Marx.

“A siren, Jaskier. Not a mermaid,” Geralt sighs, praying to Melitele to give him strength. “And you’d know that, of course, if you actually were a siren.”

“Just so you know, the term siren is actually quite offensive to my people.”

“You mean idiots?” Geralt chuckles. “You’re not a siren, Jask.”

“Can you prove that I’m not?”

“Well, last week you tripped and fell into this creek that was like… knee-deep, and you nearly drowned.”

“I was in shock!” Jaskier proclaims dramatically. “But I have a proof that I am, or at least could be a siren.”

“What proof?”

“Well, my lovely voice, of course!”

“Not as lovely as you think it is,” Valdo Marx snorts.

“Come on, Jaskier,” Geralt sighs, ignoring the old troubadour. “You have much better voice that any siren I’ve ever heard.”

“Geralt of Rivia!” Jaskier gasps, clutching his chest. “Was that a compliment?!”

“Fuck,” Geralt mutters. “I didn’t mean…”

“Really though, Jaskier,” Valdo says. “How?”

“That’s a secret I’ll take to the grave, I’m afraid,” Jaskier grins. “Once I manage to reach it.”

“Keep on with the bullshit, Jaskier,” Geralt growls, “and you can reach it tonight.”

“Fifty years traveling with him, and he still thinks he can scare me. Cute, isn’t he?” Jaskier laughs. “Oh, Geralt you could never.”

“Try me.”

*

“All right, I’ll tell you my secret,” Jaskier winks at Ciri, who lifts an eyebrow. “I’ve got this neat… magic ring.”

“Hmmm,” Ciri observes. “Looks like a normal signet ring to me.”

“Well… Yeah, well, it looks like it, all right, but actually–”

“Jaskier, I was born a princess. This is clearly a Pankratz family signet ring.”

“Damn,” Jaskier groans. “Like father like daughter, eh?”

“Sorry,” Ciri shrugs.

*

“I got myself cursed.”

Triss Merigold lifts an eyebrow.

“Somebody cursed you to live forever, is that so?” she asks and her voice is almost dripping with disbelief.

“More like cursed me,” Geralt murmurs.

“Oh, shut up, Witcher, you know you couldn’t live without me,” Jaskier smiles brightly, and Geralt has to bite his cheek to stop himself from smiling back.

“Hm,” he says instead.

“Eloquent as ever,” Jaskier nods.

“Would you like me to...” Triss clears her throat. “You know, try to lift the curse?”

“No!” Geralt yells before he can stop himself.

“See?” Jaskier beams. “You could never live without me!”

*

“A bruxa,” Jaskier repeats to a young man who claims to be his son, but looks older than his supposed father.

“You’re not a bruxa, Jaskier!” Geralt whines.

“Excuse me, and how would you know?”

“Because I’m a fucking Witcher?!”

“Well, you’re clearly a fucking horrible Witcher if you haven’t noticed until now!”

“I think I’d notice if you tried to sneak out of the camp at nights to feed,” Geralt comments, crossing his hands. “You can’t even sneak out to take a piss, Jask.”

“Maybe I do that on purpose!”

“Besides, bruxae are mostly women.”

“Mostly being the important word here.”

“Fuck’s sake, Jaskier. You won’t even eat a piece of meat if it’s not so well-done that it’s almost cremated.”

“Do you know how disgusting the blood is, Geralt?!” Jaskier groans, and then immediately blinks when he realizes what he just said. “I meant…”

“Case closed,” Geralt nods, satisfied.

“Oh, dear,” Jaskier mutters. “I fucking hate you sometimes.”

“Uhm, my lords, if I may,” the young man says.

“Hate to break it to you, kid, but if you’re aging like a normal human, you’re probably not my son,” Jaskier shrugs. “Sorry. I get it why your mum might be confused, though. It was quite a night, with at least four–”

“And that’s enough,” Geralt says, grabbing Jaskier by the collar and pulling him away from the man. “You know, lifting the curse seems like a good idea now.”

“There isn’t really a curse, Geralt,” Jaskier laughs.

Geralt sighs, his lips curling into a tiny smile that Jaskier cannot see.

“Thank fuck.”

*

“You see, we were in a crazy mage’s tower and I saw this bottle and I thought it was slivovitz, so I drank it, but it seems that it actually was some sort of an immortality potion,” Jaskier explains to a lady at the ball, whose grandmother he’d apparently fucked once, when said grandmother was still a young, unmarried woman.

Geralt only blinks, because it’s the first truly plausible explanation for Jaskier’s mysterious immortality.

“Oh, that must be so horrible to watch everyone you love die!” the woman nods enthusiastically. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me about it in private?”

“Of course, my dear…” Jaskier smiles. “Just… wait a second. How old is your mother?”

“Forty-seven, why?”

Jaskier’s lips are moving silently for a few seconds while he counts, and then thy turn into a wide grin.

���No reason, dear,” he says, offering her his arms. “Shall we?”

When Jaskier and the lady flee the ball, Geralt pulls out his flask of White Gull and pours its contents into his empty tankard.

So, a potion…

*

“There is no such thing as an immortality potion, Geralt,” Yennefer shakes her head.

“How can you be so sure?” Geralt asks. “Maybe this mage really did find a way to at least make the human life longer!”

“And why would he do that?” Yennefer scoffs. She has been doing that a lot since she finally ended their relationship for good about twenty years ago. (He later found out that she had left him for none other than Triss Merigold, but Yennefer still doesn’t know that he knows, and he’s having way too much fun with it to break the fact to her. So right now, he is pretending he doesn’t notice that Triss is eavesdropping on their conversation behind the door leading to Yennefer’s bedroom, and that he absolutely believed Yen when she claimed that the loud thud a few minutes ago was caused by a cat.) “We are immortal, Geralt, unless killed. There is no reason for any of us to make a potion that would make a human live forever.”

“Well, perhaps this mage fell in love with a human and wanted them to stay with him!”

Yennefer pauses, inspecting Geralt from head to toe and back again, and then she sighs.

“Oh, Geralt. Really?”

“Really what?” Geralt blinks, genuinely confused.

“Oh,” Yennefer murmurs. “Oh, no. Really?”

“Really what, Yen?”

“You mean you don’t… Oh, dear gods. Really?”

“Yen, I swear that I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Geralt grunts, frowning.

Yennefer rolls her eyes and tries counting to ten to calm herself down. She doesn’t even get to three before Geralt’s eyes go wide.

“Oh,” he whispers. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed, Geralt,” she nods solemnly. “Fuck, indeed.”

*

“I found a djinn, he granted me a wish,” Jaskier says when Geralt asks him, about five minutes after his meeting with Yennefer. (He agreed to use a portal to get to the bard as soon as possible. A fucking portal!) The bard is sitting in a tavern and eating his dinner, utterly undisturbed by the sudden appearance of an angrier-than-usual Witcher.

“You never mentioned a djinn,” Geralt growls. “And after your last encounter with one, I sincerely doubt you’d engage with another.”

“You clearly don’t know me at all–”

“Besides, Valdo Marx, as far as I know, had an apoplexy while fucking a young student on his desk, and I don’t think you’d ever let him die like that if you had a choice.”

“You see, that was kind of a my mistake, since I didn’t specify the time and the circumstances of his apoplexy in my wish, so…”

“What was your third wish?”

“Pardon me?”

“Your immortality, Valdo Marx dropping dead, that’s two. What was the third one? And don’t even try to mention the Countess de Stael, since you’d have to dig her up first.”

“That was disgusting, even for you, you know that, Geralt?”

“How are you immortal, Jaskier?!”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Jaskier puts a piece of bread in his mouth and grins.

“Maybe some other time, Witcher.”

*

“I am a fae,” Jaskier replies a day later.

“You’re not a fucking fae, bard.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you fucking lie, Jaskier. All the time.”

“Fuck. Didn’t think of that.”

*

“You see, there was this artifact–”

Geralt closes his eyes, turning Roach around.

“Let’s consult Yennefer about this.”

“Oh, mother of…” Jaskier whines. “All right, no artifact, there was no artifact! Geralt, I’m telling you, there was no…”

*

“You’re not a succubus.”

“But it would be a perfect explanation, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re not succubus, because if you were, you’d know that a male one is called an incubus.”

“Oh, you and your stupid Witcher terms again.”

“You’re not an incubus, Jaskier, because if you were, I could never let you near Eskel.”

“All right… Explain, please?”

Geralt grunts.

“I’d really rather not.”

*

“A dragon,” Jaskier grins victoriously.

“No,” Geralt says, shaking his head.

“No,” Jaskier agrees with a sigh.

“You know you could just tell me the truth and be done with it, right?”

“Hm… No.”

*

“All right, enough is enough,” Jaskier growls that night in their rented room, tossing his doublet aside. “You’ve asked me three times today, Geralt. Why the sudden interest in my immortality?”

“As you said, enough is enough. You’ve been traveling with me for what, a hundred years?”

“A hundred and four.”

“Yes, and you still look the same as the day I met you in Posada!” Geralt growls. “And it drives me mad!”

“It wasn’t driving you insane for at least fifty years, so why the sudden change of heart?”

“Fuck off, bard. You don’t have to tell me. I don’t care.”

“But you do, Geralt,” Jaskier says, taking a step towards the Witcher. “Why?”

He’s standing in Geralt’s personal space, his chemise half undone, and he’s watching Geralt with those sincere blue eyes, and Geralt can’t fucking think…

“Because I love you, you idiot!” he snaps. “Because I fucking love you and I need to know if I can love you, or you’re gonna just drop dead one day without a warning!”

“Oh,” Jaskier whispers, his lips forming into a huge, happy smile. “Oh, fucking finally.”

“Fucking… what?” Geralt blinks, his arms suddenly full of an enthusiastic bard.

“I love you too, you silly Witcher,” Jaskier laughs. “I’ve loved you for a hundred years! Well, a hundred and four, but who’s counting?”

“You…” Geralt mutters.

“Silly, silly Witcher,” Jaskier repeats, pressing his lips against Geralt’s in a kiss that could be described as chaste, or at least the chastest Jaskier has ever been capable of. “We’re going to Lettenhove in the morning.”

“We are?”

“Oh, yes,” Jaskier whispers. “See, I’ve told you the truth about the source of my immortality once. But I think you need to see it to believe me.”

“Wait, you have? When?” Geralt asks. “Was it the artifact? Just tell me, I promise I won’t make you consult it with–”

“Shut up now,” Jaskier says, kissing Geralt again with way less chastity than before. “And in the meantime, believe me this – you can keep loving me, and I’m not planning on dropping dead anytime soon. Also, I’ve spent the last hundred years imagining fucking you senseless, so if you’re not opposed to the idea, perhaps we could, well…”

The kiss that this idea gets him is as far from chaste as one could possibly get.

And Jaskier definitely isn’t about to complain.

*

“You sure this is a good idea?” Geralt asks as they march towards the Lettenhove castle’s gates. He tugs at his doublet’s collar, way too tight for his liking. He’d much rather walk in there wearing his usual attire, but Jaskier insisted that Geralt must look presentable if he wants to meet his family.

It turns out that it only takes a single I love you to turn the bard into a manipulative bastard. Who would have guessed?

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Jaskier replies, grinning cheerfully. “And stop frowning, you’re gonna scare the servants, love.”

“How long it’s been since your last visit here, Jaskier?” Geralt says, his frown deepening. “Who rules Lettenhove now, hm? Aren’t you only going to be a distant relative, a great-great-uncle risen from the grave?”

“I sure hope not,” Jaskier chuckles, stopping in front of the guards by the gate. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Viscount Julian, here to see the Viscountess Madeleine.”

“How can you still be a viscount?” Geralt blinks when one of the guards promptly disappears inside.

“We kind of decided to, you know, share the title,” Jaskier shrugs. “Seemed fair. Besides, father, well, the former viscount, insisted that I inherit the title, but he never mentioned anything about Mads not inheriting it, so…”

“How could your father have known who the viscount is going to be in almost a hundred years?”

“He really didn’t,” Jaskier chuckles. “See, it will all start to make sense once you meet her.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping for.”

*

The guard returns a few minutes later, telling them that the Viscountess will meet them in the garden.

Geralt, knowing a thing or two about nobility, think it’s a little weird, but isn’t about to protest. He only thinks he could have left the fancy clothes at the tavern.

“Oh, shut up, you,” Jaskier chuckles when Geralt voices this thought. “You look gorgeous.”

“I know. You’ve mentioned it a few times. But I didn’t have to look like that, because we’re going to meet the ruler of this land in a fucking garden, and–”

“Julian!”

A woman in a long white dress throws herself at Jaskier, who happily catches her. Geralt’s first instinct is to reach for his sword, only to realize that he (luckily) left it in the tavern – because Jaskier insisted, of course.

“Madeleine,” Jaskier chuckles. “You haven’t aged a day.”

“Oh, yes. Shocking, isn’t it?” she laughs, pulling away from him, and for the first time, Geralt truly looks at her.

The woman is shorter than Jaskier, slim, and her dress is much, much simpler than Geralt would have expected considering the fact that is supposed to be a viscountess. She has dark, long hair and her face is so beautiful that it almost – but only almost – takes the focus off her pointed ears.

“Lady Madeleine,” Jaskier grins, “may I introduce Geralt of Rivia, my Witcher. Geralt, this is Lady Madeleine, the current ruler of Lettenhove and my younger sister.”

“You’re…” Geralt blinks.

“A half-elf, yes,” she nods. “Julian! You haven’t told him?”

“Hardly my fault. I really tried,” Jaskier shrugs. “But he just wouldn’t believe me.”

“So you brought him here to prove it to him, rather than to visit your beloved sister? You are a horrible, horrible sibling, Julian!”

“Your… sister,” Geralt mutters, all his thoughts speeding through his head, colliding and falling down, one over another.

“Yes, we definitely share a mother,” Jaskier confirms. “Most likely a father, too, and trust me, it wasn’t the old viscount. Madeleine got the elvish looks, I only got the non-aging bit. Well, apparently.”

“But…” Geralt blinks. “Your father. The title.”

“Yen was right, dear heart, you really don’t know shit about nobility,” Jaskier snorts. “But I admit that even though our dear departed noble father knew that Mads wasn’t his daughter, obviously, it never occurred to him that I might not be his true son.”

“But you don’t age!”

“In his defense, that only became clear after his unfortunate passing.”

“And you aren’t going to start to age anytime soon,” Geralt mutters. “You really aren’t.”

“Told you so, didn’t I?” Jaskier winks, letting go of his sister and wrapping his arms around his lover instead.

“I… I…” Geralt stammers. “Fuck.”

“Maybe later, love,” Jaskier smiles. “Madeleine, my dear, wouldn’t you say that my return calls for a feast?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I have started the preparations the second my spies informed me that you have crossed the border.”

“Oh, so we have spies now?”

“It’s really only a net of nosy old ladies, but it works wonders,” Madeleine laughs. “I must admit, though, that I was only planning a feast to celebrate you coming home, but now I see we have a much better reason to party. Tell me, brother, did you finally get your stupid Witcher?”

Jaskier smiles brightly, turning his head to Geralt.

“Yes. I finally got my stupid Witcher.”

“Party,” the Witcher in question growls. “Is that why you made me dress like a pompous prick?”

“No, that was because while I find your usual self extremely attractive, you still look much better when your hair is properly combed and you’re not covered in monster blood.”

“Hm,” Geralt hums, but wraps his arm around the bard to hold him close.

“Oh, yes, about monsters,” Madeleine says with the most innocent expression Geralt has seen since Ciri broke Vesemir’s favorite vase at Kaer Morhen. “You see, we have a tiny problem with a cockatrice…”

“Right,” Geralt nods. “I’ll go grab my armor from the tavern.”

“That won’t be necessary. I have already arranged for your things to be brought to the castle. And your horse,” she adds before Geralt can even open his mouth. “You can leave for your quest as soon as the servants get here.”

“So much for you not being covered in monster blood,” Jaskier sighs.

“Hm,” Geralt grins. “Lady Madeleine, I suppose you happen to have a bathtub somewhere in the castle?”

“Of course. In fact, there is a private bathroom right next to Julian’s bedroom.”

“Geralt of Rivia,” Jaskier purrs. “You know me so well.”

“Yes, and I expect to get to know you even better. In another hundred years or so.”

Jaskier laughs, pulls Geralt closer to him and kisses him.

“Another thousand years, I’d say.”

*

“What… the… fuck?!” Geralt croaks, staring at the smouldering remains of the cockatrice that would have surely killed him if Jaskier… If Jaskier…

The bard looks at his hands, then at the cockatrice, and then back at his hands again.

“Geralt? I have a feeling that I’m not really… A half-elf.”

“No shit.”

“I think I might be… Uhm…”

“Oh, shit,” Geralt whispers.

“I suppose, uhm, you know…” Jaskier stammers, wiping his palms on his trousers like he could wipe away the feeling of literal flames shooting out of them mere moments ago.

“Yeah. We’re gonna have to consult this with Yen.”

“Splendid,” Jaskier sighs. “Can it at least wait after the feast?”

“After more than a hundred years of you not even knowing, I think one feast will be fine.”

“Thank the gods. Madeleine would kill me if I tried to leave now,” Jaskier chuckles. “Let’s go, then. We need to get the fried monster remains out of your hair.”

“You’re… I was fucking right! You’re not a half-elf!”

“Yeah, you’re a great Witcher,” Jaskier nods, grabbing Geralt’s arm and dragging him away from the monster. “Didn’t notice I was secretly a fucking mage, but otherwise a great Witcher.”

“Explains a lot, though.”

“Does it now?”

“Yeah. I always had a thing for mages, you know.”

“Oh, Geralt. You’re such a fucking idiot,” Jaskier chuckles.

“Made you laugh,” Geralt shrugs, smiling.

Jaskier shakes his head.

“I’m so, so gonna drown you in that bathtub.”

“My love,” Geralt grins, “you’re more than welcome to try.”

***

Tagging @lottelorelei - I’m sorry I always forget to reply to your lovely comments, but believe me, they always put a big smile on my face! :)

[austajunk]

Please PLEASE go into detail about how protective he is over Chiaki!! I literally am begging to finally hear someone else actually acknowledge their friendship/relationship especially after having to deal with a pretty toxic anti-bi/pan Nagito rper I was on a server with for a good part of a year! (Sorry went kinda ranty but hopefully my anguish is understandable!)

Oh my lord, you’re giving me a chance to shine with my fixations?! I can’t thank you enough! Now, please understand that this is based on my perception of the series as I’ve played through the second game twice. I’m pretty good when it comes to being the person who has unpopular opinions and ships and I know claiming that Nagito is bi/pan/Demi is probably one of them. But honestly, it comes from the desire to see this boy get as much love as possible. Because he sure needs it.

Ultimately, Nagito’s sexuality is never canonly specified, so I think whether gay, bisexual, Pansexual, or what have you, we’re all well within our rights to just have fun and see what we want to in a really flawed and relatable character. And that’s what makes it interesting.

That being said, let’s talk about Nagito and Chiaki. Friendship or romantic, I don’t think you can deny that Chiaki is at least special to Nagito in some way.

Upon replaying the second game, I’ve realized how protective Nagito actually is towards Chiaki interestingly enough.

In chapter 2, she leaves to go question Fuyuhiko but Nagito stops her and tells her not to let Fuyuhiko get rough with her. Every time Chiaki’s skills help them advance, he deeply praises her. Even after he’s stopped praising all the others (which he does mostly after Chapter one, hinting he does not like some of them as actual people). But for some reason, especially during the trials, Nagito is quick to jump in and mention how wonderful Chiaki is and compliment her (only to be usually cut off by someone when he starts to ramble).

It should also be noted that Chiaki and Nagito both share an appreciation for games. Nagito seems to like more luck-based games for obvious reasons, but he also mentions that like Chiaki, he likes the Twilight Syndrome series. Both of them similarly state that they felt Monokuma was butchering a favorite game of theirs.

They also both have an odd way of trying to cheer Hajime up and joke with him, the examples shown coincidentally beside one another. Chiaki says she’s gonna look for a dirty book, throwing Hajime off and Nagito “jokingly” tells Hajime to lick his boots and now to him, but Hajime is extremely put off when he claims it was a joke. These oddballs get each other in the weirdest of ways is what I’m saying. They’re both incredibly antisocial, but their hearts are reaching the same place too when they try to make an effort.

In chapter 4, when Chiaki teams up with Nagito and Kazuichi, then leaves because they’re both being clingy, Nagito quickly follows and chases after her to make sure she’s okay. Then he chastised her for running off, looking deeply concerned. Even after his attitude change, he will answer her more directly and not ignore her. When she tells him to be quiet, he politely obeys... or maybe it’s because he’s deep in thought about her motives as he mentions he was watching the trial carefully to decide on who the traitor is.

I may just be mentioning this because they’re my OTP, but if you know about their school time together and pay attention to Nagito’s Hope versus Chiaki’s Hope, I think it’s fascinating.

Okay, now let’s head into Danganronpa 3 territory. Now this is the part where I am the most shaky as I’m still trying to determine what I take canon from this series. The thing is, a friend who got me into the series informed me that the production was way rushed and that Kodaka never wanted to do the anime in the first place. But! That being said, Chiaki and Nagito have some great moments in this and the anthology comics along with it, so let’s get into some stuff.

First of all, Nagito warmly mentions that Chiaki being their class rep makes her the true Hope of their class. And you can tell he’s serious because as he’s saying it, he’s doing that thing where he’s staring at his hand desperately like he wants eat it. You know the look.

Moving on, it’s clear that aside from Chisa, Chiaki is the only one to value and treasure Nagito. And this makes sense. In her own dying words, she loves her classmates. They are the world to her. All of them. And of course, she loves Nagito too with all her heart. As evidenced as she cradled him protectively in her arms while he’s injured. At first when Chiaki and the others are determined to stand up to Junko and get their teacher back, Nagito pleads with Chiaki not to. That his luck could not overcome them. He knows they can’t win in this situation and I do think he was actually trying to talk Chiaki out of it. But of course, when Chiaki pushes back and says she wants to go anyways, he literally can’t help himself when it comes to wanting to see Hope shine. So he agrees and praises her again because of course he does.

Until it all leads to the Pain Train with Despair coming out on top. Chiaki is brutally slaughtered and we see something new from Nagito. He breaks down crying. Tears are streaming madly down his face as a forced and twisted smile appears on his lips. He even beseeches Chiaki’s name. “You understand right? You know you’re a stepping stone for Hope!” “What has been done to Nanami is unforgivable...” Nagito’s already trying to cope. To rationalize something horrible that he just witnessed in his mind. He’s trying to protect himself as he’s utterly being destroyed and breaking down like all of his classmates. Chiaki’s death literally shatters his mind. It’s a pretty well done scene even if I’m not a big fan of the brainwashing stuff. Not to mention, the way he says “You understand right, Nanami?” As if he’s begging for her forgiveness as he falls apart. It’s so very very tragic. And of course, when being made apart of the Neo World Program, his desire to see Chiaki once more, just one more time like his classmates, brings her back to him(and the other classmates) in AI form.

Honestly... it’s pretty beautiful. Chiaki is apart of Nagito in some way and is imprinted into his mind and heart. He longed to see her as much as everyone else. This person, who doesn’t seek out relationships because his luck either gets them killed or he finds their Hope to be too weak, has a connection with Chiaki like that. This is literally a person who believes his life is just a stepping stone for better and more worthy people, someone who knows their existence is a formality at this point. And still, he does have connections. There are people capable of caring about him and loving him and Chiaki was one of those people. And he wanted to see her again in the Neo World Program. Like Chiaki said, it’s no less than miracle.

But alas, this is getting rather long, isn’t it? Well in the D3 anthology, Nagito also is concerned when Chiaki avoids eating because of her hyperfixation on gaming. Chiaki skipping out on self care?! Not cool, Chiaki. And so he challenges her to a game to make sure she’ll eat lunch. Fucking protective as hell. And yes yes, the anthology isn’t canon... but that’s the thing about Danganronpa. The series is over. Any additional info and stuff added to it is meant to enrich the experience for the fandom, so it’s canon to me. What’s the fandom gonna do? Whine at me and tell me it isn’t? That Nagito wouldn’t do these things when official anthologies and content that’s sold for Danganronpa tells me he would? So... yeah.

Ultimately, whether you ship them or not, I think this fandom is missing out on the Komanami side of things and how good their relationship is when you really observe it. :3

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Behind Closed Doors

Ooo, I like this idea! Originally I was gonna write headcanons for it but in the end, I guess I just ended up writing a scenario? Wild world right? Sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn’t...but I really hope you enjoy it and please, feel free to let me know what you think!

Click Me 

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

 It was impossible to tell how long ago it all started, all of the secrets, the sneaking around; the easily told lies. All to spend a few stolen moments with your prince and soon-to-be King; Katsuki.

 You were nothing more than a maid, brought in a few years ago because no one else could deal with the crown-prince’s temper. The job paid too much to turn down, on the condition that you could tolerate Katsuki’s anger and get your work done without him throwing you out; to achieve that, you had been given two week’s trial.

 Surprisingly enough, you had made it through the trial period with no trouble. A few arguments here and there, but nothing too terrible; apparently Katsuki’s mother had been impressed because you were given full time and extra money, weekends were your own to enjoy as a break from the short-tempered man and should you need anything, you were given permission to go straight to the currently ruling King and Queen.

 It had all begun with a kiss, albeit, an angry kiss; one of frustration and annoyance. That one kiss had stolen both your breath and your heart.

 .

 ~  ~  ~

 .

 “Oi, wench!”

 .

 You let out a quiet sigh, lifting your head to address Katsuki as he opened his bedroom door with a deafening slam, angry glare focused on you despite how you were simply folding his clothes so that you could put them away as you always did this time each week.

 “Is there something I can help you with, my lord?” You asked the question even though you hoped the answer was no, gently setting down one of his now folded tops on top of the nearby table; stacked neatly on top of the others that you had already done throughout the morning.

 “Is it true?!” You raised an eyebrow as you moved to pick up another article of clothing, beginning to fold it as he stormed up to you. It was strange to see him so outwardly angry towards you, but then again, his anger was well-known throughout the land; you just hadn’t seen it directed towards you before.

 “Could you be a little more specific, my lord? Many things are true but unless you specify, I can’t help you” You kept your voice calm as you looked towards him, mindlessly folding his clothes. The task had become as easy as breathing air since you had first been employed, since you were Katsuki’s personal maid, the tasks you had were mostly repetitive and made easy to do without thinking too much about it.

 “You were offered another job!” You nodded slowly at his clarification, confusion forming on your features when he became visibly angrier; practically seething when his question was confirmed. It was hard to understand, given that you had turned down many different offers of employment. The best thing you could come up with was that he was angry to hear that he was stuck with you; however, given that he hadn’t seemed to mind your presence before now, that was hard to believe.

 “Is there a problem? I would assume that you would be happy to hear that I’ve got no intention of leaving” You could see the way his anger faltered at your words, a brief flicker of confusion darting through his gaze before he was standing in front of you; eyes narrowed in suspicion and disbelief.

 “You’re staying…? Weren’t you offered more than what you earn here?” You nodded slowly at his question, reaching past him to place the folded clothing on top of the pile; deciding that it would be better for you to wait until you continued on with your task. The prince was agitated, which meant that you should probably give him all of your attention until his anger passed.

 “If you were offered more, then why are you staying?” His question made you smile, having to bite down on your bottom lip to prevent the giggle that threatened to slip out; the last thing that you needed was to stir the already agitated prince. Otherwise, you might have to take up that offer of employment.

 “I’m staying because I want to. I like it here; the work is good and I believe in loyalty to the people that have done right by me.” You murmured out your response softly, standing up so that you were chest to chest with the prince; a pleasant smile decorating your lips, not a whisper of a lie escaping you.

 “I’ve turned down a lot of job offers since coming here, my lord…but may I ask why the sudden interest? How did you even hear about this to begin with?” You tilted your head in vague curiosity while he scoffed, turning his head to the side so that you couldn’t see his expression; agitation still made obvious by his body language.

 “Your new employer sent a carriage for you. Mother asked me to fetch you.” Your eyes widened at his words, disbelief filling you until he decided to look back at you properly; his expression alerting you to the truth of his words. Though, you should have believed him to begin with; Katsuki Bakugou never did anything that he didn’t want to and that included lying.

 He despised lies, that had been something that you had learnt early on during your two-week trial as his maid.

 “My lord, please believe me. I have no idea why there’s a carriage here for me, I declined the offer immediately. I have no wish to leave my home.” He raised an eyebrow the moment you said the word ‘home’, giving a slight nod of his head before reaching out to cradle the back of your head with his hand; his lips crashing angrily down against your own in a breath-taking kiss.

 .

 “Continue your work. I want to speak with you once I clear up this bullshit.”

 .

 ~  ~  ~

 .

You moaned out softly, pressing your hands against Katsuki’s chest as he used his weight to pin you against the solid wooden door; his lips against your own and his hands gripping your thighs, lifting you against his hips.

 “Keep your fucking voice down (Name)” His instruction came out as a low groan of frustration while his lips travelled down to your jaw, sending welcomed shivers along your spine at the affection he was showering you with; he had been gone on a peace-treaty with his mother for a week.

 Clearly that had been much too long for the two of you to be apart.

 .

 “You make it sound easier than it is”

 .

 He snorted at your cheeky remark, nipping at your neck while his hands roamed your body, undressing you with silent skill as he went; leaving you as confused as ever. You never could understand how he had gotten so good at undressing you in such situations.

 “Yeah, well you know what happens if we’re caught. So, shut up already” He grumbled out the order, clearly dissatisfied with having to tell you to be quiet; unfortunately, it was a necessary part of your stolen moments together. If you were too loud and got caught, there would be consequences that the two of you couldn’t bear to risk.

 You moaned out quietly, biting down on your bottom lip as Katsuki buried himself inside of you, large hands going back to your thighs to keep proper hold of you while you squirmed in place; it wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last time he had you against the door to his bedroom, but that didn’t make it any less enjoyable.

 “You know, you always get so rough when you’re jealous” You whispered out the teasing words with a quiet giggle, gasping as Katsuki bit your boob firmly, his hips moving at a harsh pace that came hand in hand with Neito Monoma asking you to become his personal maid. Katsuki was a jealous man and that was made obvious whenever you happened to chat to someone that he deemed a threat.

 “You’re really bringing this up now?” Katsuki growled out the question, trailing nips and bites over your chest while you moved your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you with a stifled moan; your back arching from the pleasure that he sent racing through your body.

 “You’re the one that kicked Monoma out and dragged me away” Katsuki scoffed at your remark, keeping his head low as he thrust his hips, likely so that you couldn’t see the guilty expression on his features; it was obvious to the both of you that you were right, but having Katsuki admit it was a completely different matter.

 You whimpered out Katsuki’s name quietly when he brushed up against your sweet spot, the sound tipping him off and causing him to change the way he moved his hips; now hitting your spot with each hard thrust, your noises of pleasure beginning to grow louder as a result.

 “Better keep your voice down (Name)” You scowled at Katsuki’s taunting remark, moving a hand to tug at his hair roughly in displeasure before biting down on your bottom lip to stifle the cry of pleasure that had nearly spilled free. It was payback for mentioning Monoma, you knew that, but at the same time; it was impossible to resist teasing him.

 It was something only you could do without having him explode at you.

 .

 “You look so good like this…and all mine…”

 .

 Katsuki mumbled words made you smile as you rocked your hips down to meet his thrusts, a quiet moan managing to slip past your lips while he continued to fuck you against the door; not making nearly as much noise as you had expected it to make.

 “God…would you shut up?” You whispered out the request under your breath, trying your best not to cry out his name when he slapped his hand against your thigh, accompanying the action with a firm bite to the bruise that was already beginning to form from one of his earlier bites; more pleasure than pain.

 A quiet whimper escaped you as a familiar heat began to build up in the pit of your stomach, making it nearly impossible to focus on your goal of keeping quiet; as it always seemed to.

 “Oi, bite me if you have to…might not get as lucky as last time” Katsuki groaned low as he uttered the instruction to you, cursing out when you moved your head to bite down on his shoulder firmly; drowning the loud moan in his muscled body. Refusing to allow anyone but him to hear your noises of pleasure as your orgasm rocked through you.

 “Fuck…alright then” He growled out the remark under his breath, rolling his shoulder when you released your hold on him; instead riding out your orgasm with his thrusts, managing the bear with the pleasure-filled jolts that raced through your system while Katsuki worked towards his own release.

 Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait too long. Katsuki’s hips were already beginning to move at a rapid pace, his movement sloppy as his orgasm neared; burying himself inside of you as deep as he could moments later. His hot seed filling you.

 .

 “…I think we did pretty good this time.”

[janiedean]

... please, please, PLEASE write some crack with AA!Davos. And Melisandre losing her entire mind over it ofc.

hello anon this is late and I'm in my inbox trying to catch up with prompts and you're getting something idek what but I gave it my all

--

"No," Melisandre says.

"For the first time in my life," Davos cautiously replies in the silence that has filled the room, "I would be uttermost fucking glad to agree with you."

"I don't think," Jon Snow says very, very slowly, eyes staring at the sword in Davos's hands - seven hells he never even liked using swords for that matter -, "that it's something either you or she can deny." He sounds relieved, for that matter.

"Beg your pardon, your Grace," Davos goes on, wishing he could drop the damned thing and just run and instead there's the entire Great Hall in Winterfell staring at him in various arrays of bewilderment, shock and in two specific cases relief, and one of them being his King - not Jon Snow, King in the North, but Stannis Baratheon - isn't helping any, "that's - you are the one who came back to life. Literally."

"He's certainly not the only one who has, lately," Jaime Lannister mutters from somewhere in the crowd and oh, right, they told them about Catelyn Stark having... come back to life in the Riverlands when he and Brienne of Tarth brought Sansa Stark here and a Valean army along with her good thing because they were about to lose the damned battle when they did, but then the lady obviously throws her elbow in his hip and he shuts up.

"That still - it makes no sense! How is that - I can't be, all right?"

"You did say," Stannis clears his throat, very slowly, oh please no not him, "that when you woke up on that piece of rock after Blackwater you were surrounded by smoke and you were covered in salty water and you were sure you were dead, and that was just - after your sons died in that battle, wasn't it?"

Oh, Seven bloody fucking Hells -

"That doesn't mean I died for real!"

"Well," Jon Snow's friend, fuck, what did he say his name was when he showed up here from Oldtown a few days ago - Samwell Tarly, right, "prophecies... are never exactly straight, my lord. Also, that sword is quite literally glowing. For real."

Why, Davos thinks, why did I ever hold that fucking Valyrian steel sword of Tarly's that he said he stole from his father, why would I do it, I should have kept my bloody hands to myself now -

"This is impossible," Melisandre says again, staring at Davos, then the sword, then Stannis, then Jon Snow, then at Davos all over again, "this is impossible! The Lord of Light never said it was you."

"Well, I doubt he ever said it was me either at this point," Stannis mutters still sounding relieved of it.

"I would like, again, for once, to agree with this red witch, there is no bloody way it's me, I can't - please, didn't Rhaegar Targaryen start an entire war because this supposed prince that was promised or whatever the fuck had to be his son or his relative? Sure as hell I'm not related to a bloody Targaryen now. Sorry but this is insane. King Stannis here is more related to one than I am. He," he motions towards Jon Snow, "is definitely more related to one than I am, and I doubt Lord Reed was lying when he shared that piece of information with us."

"I would not," said Lord Reed protests.

"Well, exactly," Davos goes on, "and - and the lady Brienne here is more related to one than I am if what history my princess used to talk about is true, there is no way -"

"Wouldn't be so sure," wait, was that fucking Sandor Clegane who has come from the Vale with both Lannister, Sansa Stark and Brienne of Tarth, what has he to share now -

"How exactly," Davos groans.

Clegane shrugs. "You're from Flea Bottom."

"Yes, exactly my point -"

"Targaryens were kings until the rebellion," he points out. "Who says that some of them didn't fuck around with the commoners at some point? Doubtful that anyone would go and claim that some king planted a bastard on them, but you can't know."

"You - you can't be saying that some great-grandfather of mine was a Targaryen bastard," Davos tries to protest.

"I'm saying you can't know he wasn't," Clegane shrugs, sounding entirely too gleeful about it. Why. Why would he be. He has no stakes in this. What the -

"This is not happening," he says, at the same time as Melisandre saying the exact same thing.

No one proffers a word for a moment.

Then Stannis clears his throat. "You know," he says, "I would be seriously considering that it's true just because it not being true is the one thing you two ever agreed on since you met. Maybe it's a sign."

Why is he smiling slightly? All right, he does, mostly to Davos only, as far as he's known, and he just wishes it wasn't a point that made sense, but -

Fuck.

Fuck.

If that sword wasn't feeling warm in his hand when everyone else said that it felt burning to them to the point they couldn't touch it he'd just, throw it on the ground and leave, except he can't, and -

He sighs.

"If," he says, "if this has a chance in the Seven Hells of being true, does that mean I have to do what exactly?"

"End the Long Night," Melisandre says, sounding absolutely not happy about it.

"Yes, a bit more detail maybe? That doesn't mean anything!"

"Save the world from the darkness," she goes on, gloomily.

"That still doesn't tell me how!"

"Well, the Lord of Light never was - He never specified the details, if you're it then you should know yourself," she mutters, and -

Davos is just done, all right?

"That's just - I didn't even know I - you know what, I'll just give Lord Tarly here back the sword -"

"My lord," Tarly says taking a step back, "please do keep it, it's not like I'm ever going to use it properly myself. All yours!"

"All - it's Valyrian steel!"

"And it definitely chose you to wield it, so. Really. You can absolutely keep it, my lord. No offense, my lord."

"Maybe," Jon Snow says, "we should leave Lord Davos to think about this instead of nagging him."

Davos is suddenly very thankful for the lad's existence and for the fact that the moment he speaks everyone immediately rushes out of the room.

Everyone except Stannis - Melisandre stalks out repeating that there is no way, and she'll pray some more, and so on, but at this point he's barely hearing her.

Davos lets out a breath the moment everyone else has left. "There is," he says, "no way this is me."

"Davos," Stannis replies, staring straight at him, "let me just say it once."

"... What?"

"That I never wanted to be that and I never thought it could be me, and knowing it's not me is relieving, but - but I couldn't have imagined anyone more suited than you."

"Your Grace, I'm -"

"Maybe," he smiles a tiny bit wider, "I didn't have it wrong when I thought making new lords was a good idea."

"I -"

"Davos, honestly, to everyone at Storm's End... you could have been that. Maybe it was just destiny that it would have to be you."

"And I have no idea of how I would be supposed to do it," Davos sighs, relenting, letting the sword's tip fall on the ground. He has a feeling he cannot exactly... say no now. Not when he's being stared at like... like he was stared at the day he showed up at Storm's End with a ship full of onions and salted fish.

"Why, do you think she told me how I was supposed to do it?"

"... I imagine she didn't."

"Absolutely not. And not like I... believe that this Lord of Light exists, but if whatever is out there chose you then I still don't think it was wrong."

"Now His Grace is flattering me."

"I don't really think I am," he replies, and Davos can't help smiling back even if he doesn't feel like there is anything to be happy about.

Well.

He supposes he'll find out how in the Seven Hells he's going to stop the Long Night when it's time to. For now he lets himself smile back and when Stannis's hand cautiously grasps his elbow he feels warm for it, and -

It could be worse, he thinks.

Much worse.

But he still thinks this entire matter makes no bloody sense at all.

[hyrule-kingdom-updates]

Astor nodded. He and paced the hall and muttered under his breath.

“I see...I never meddled in the realm of technology...but to think that Sheikah Technology could hold such a secret.” He tapped his chin, staring at the astrolabe on the other side of the dungeon bars. “I suppose it makes sense. The advanced accomplishments and feats that such technology is capable of...it’s only naturally that it is powered by unconventional means.”

Siv spun the Sheikah Core on his index finger like it was a ball. “Yeeeep. I’m guessing that’s what allowed the super old dudes to beat the Calamity all those years ago.” He shook his head. “So, yeah. Dick Lord Ganon is gonna use that to turn the Guardians and Divine Beasts against us. And even if the science peeps keep researching into them...well.” He looked up at Astor. “Obviously, they would never figure out this crucial little detail even after a hundred years of science-ing. So this is our little secret, capiche?”

Astor nodded again. If what Asivus was saying was true (And it was) then Hyrule were truly doomed. The Calamity would exploit this secret, and use it to flip the entire war on its head. This is what Ganon would use to turn the Divine Beasts against them.

If any of the researchers found out about this aspect of Ancient Technology, and adapted to it, then Ganon would lose his biggest advantage...and it might be possible to...

The seer quickly shook away the thought. No, even if they knew, the world would be helpless all the same when the Princess fails to awaken their powers. In fact, it would probably be more brutal if Ganon’s forces were reliant completely on the bludgeoning and stabbing that came with monsters. Machines would have avoidable patterns in a post-apocalyptic world, but monsters of malice would be exceptionally harder.

So yes...We keep this info from everyone. Especially Robbie and Purah and...

“How sure are you that no one else could figure this out?” Astor asked.

“Decently sure. I mean, it’d be pretty hard to guess such a crazy thing.” Asivus shrugged.

“Are you positive? Because I know my—” He stopped in his tracks, suddenly stumbling on his words. “I—in reference to random researchers—other non-specified—she’s not—Look. There are very talented and intelligent researchers across the kingdom, surely someone—”

“Did you say it yourself? Everyone’s way to arrogant around here!” Siv threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “No one’s gonna look for faults in their perfect little war machines! They shoot lasers, and don’t talk back. It’s a general’s wet dream. Even if someone figured out this secret, no one here would listen to them.” He waved his hand in a circle and gestured towards his half brother. “Case in point: You.”

Astor folded his arms and sighed. “Alright, fine. So that’s how the Calamity will turn the Guardians and Beasts against us. But what’s the actual execution of it all? The plan? What’s your play in this? How did the Guardians in the yard get corrupted?”

Siv was silent; thinking. He seemed to be endlessly swimming through thoughts and words and memories. The man fiddled with the discs surrounding the astrolabe, eyes drooping in misery. Interesting.

“I was supposed to make them. That’s what he wanted,” Asivus finally said. “Beast of water, lightning, air, and fire. Or, demons? Blights or something. Creatures that were to take on the Divine Beasts.They’re built slightly different than Guardians, so he needed a little something special to deal with ‘em.” He blew hair off his forehead with a huff. “It all sorta just came into my head in the minutes before I fucked up those Guardians, so the details come and go, but that’s the gist. I make the Blights, Ganon does his thing, then I wait at the Sanctum to achieve true happiness or whatever he was bullshitting.”

“But you failed.” Astor interjected. “You failed to make the blights, and thus today’s calamity failed. At least, in this timeline.” Siv opened his mouth to object, but he continued to think outloud. “The Guardians were a fluke, then. You were not capable of creating Blights, but wielded enough malice to corrupt a Guardian. Although that brings into question how you control malice to begin with...and why you were chosen specifically for the task...”

Asivus was silent again, spinning the astrolabe on the floor. Astor observed him for a moment.

“Is he speaking to you? At the moment?” The seer asked. “Every time you fall silent is when you start looking down at that device. That thing I can correctly assume is the instigator of all this, given that you look at it every time I ask about the recent Guardians you ruined.”

Asivus narrowed his eyes at him, annoyed at being so readable.

“Ganon isn’t in your head, as you said you were overcome with this information in the minutes you truly held that astrolabe and walked by the Guardians.” He thought back. “Earlier before the incident you said you had a dream, and then you found the astrolabe? You leave it on your desk as a paper weight, before developing the decent moral to drop off a potential lost item to the Sheikah. But then you were holding the astrolabe in proximity to the Guardians, and subsequently are suddenly given the revelation to the Calamity’s plan...”

He locked eyes with him. “Combine that with the truth about all Sheikah Technology itself...and the fact that your eyes only change when that core is in your possession...”

Astor walked closer and gripped one of the bars, calmly. “That astrolabe is the link between you and the Calamity. It speaking to you through it. It’s lending you the power to control malice. It’s a manifested vessel of Ganon’s ill intent for this world...perhaps made of whatever malice plagues yourself. Perhaps he chose you for the job because you’re brimming with his favourite substance.”

Assivus started at the seer, and blinked once. Astor took that as confirmation, but asked anyways: “Am I wrong?”

Siv bit his tongue for a moment, before sighing in defeat. “You’ve got Ligero’s mannerisms down to the T. The perceptiveness nearly makes me wish I had actually paid attention to his parenting attempts.”

Something twisted inside Astor at that comment, and his voice grew a dangerous edge. “I’m nothing like him.”

“It’s alright, don’t take it personally. I just have a love-hate relationship with smart people.”

“Tsk.” The prophet stared down the corridor in thought. “Don’t we all.”

“But you’re wrong about one thing.” Siv added, and he looked up at Astor with a new seriousness. “I didn’t ‘fail’ to make the blights.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I didn’t fail to make the blights, I didn’t want to.” Asivus raised his voice, and rolled the astrolabe to the other side of the cell. “You can’t fail something you never really attempted in the first place.” He winked. “I mean, that’s been my philosophy on life for the last 15 years, heh.”

Astor blinked in surprise. “But...why? The world is doomed, and you were handed a position of life and power on a silver tray. Chosen above anyone else.  Why wouldn’t—?”

“I didn’t do it because I’m not like you, pissface!” Siv snapped. “I jump outta my socks to make a selfish decision. I don’t just run away from any inconvenience in my life.”

Astor nearly laughed. “Oh? And what exactly is it that you do, then? You’re really going to preach to me, Mr. Assivus Asunder?”

“YEAH! That name is exactly why I decided this!” He waved his arms in the air, and gestured to himself as he slumped against the wall. “Taking action and fighting for anything, regardless of what, sucks ass. Initiating change? Bad. Acting on what you care about? No likey.” Siv pounded his chest proudly. “The ideal ending for Asivus Ex-Hartell is to just chill out, and wait for the end. Drink in hand!”

He raised his empty flask, but nonetheless pretended to drink.

Astor frowned, but let the distant drip of leaking water echo in the corridor.

He watched Siv for a few more minutes, silently tapping his fingers on his elbow.

“You still care about your brother.”

It was a good think his flask was empty, as otherwise he would have spit out his drink. Siv angrily sputtered. “The fuck does that have to do with anything—?!”

“Why are you just relaxing in there after all this time?  You think you deserve this? Don’t want to be a burden for others?” Astor looked him up and down.

“Listen, you little shit. I know at this point it shouldn’t be a surprise that my family is made up of asshole, but—”

“You know when I first saw you around the castle, I did recognize you. The eyes, you see. But of course, I didn’t see the need to trouble you with my story, but I did watch you.” The prophet sneered. “Dear Asivus Hartell, sneaking into town to share a peach cobbler with his niece. Assivus Asunder, teaching his nephew to shield surf, and trying to encourage him down a more righteous path than his own. The Royal Orator Siv, who thanks his little brother for taking care of him by spending four hours making perfect hand drawn rat doodle cards.” Astor leaned down with a smirk. “You’re not the only one who paid attention to the captain’s birthday presents.”

“Alright get to the point, fuckface.” He waved the prophet off. “What? I screw around with my dumb family. What’s it gotta do with anything?”

“It means that for all your talk of laying down and dying and giving up, your action seems to indicate that you don’t actually believe that.” He jabbed a finger at Siv through the bars. “Or at least you don’t fully. Maybe you don’t want to. So don’t go blathering about your sorry life, only to try and insult me in the next minute. This isn’t about your apathy. You’re just scrambling at this low bar Ganon gives you as you drool the rare opportunity to unequivocally be an undeniably good person. You just want to tell yourself you’re a hero.”

Quiet.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

“OK.” Asivus curled his lip. “I didn’t want to join Ganon, because I’m still stupidly trying to not be an asshole. I’m too much of a wuss to commit to the dickhead role I was probably meant to fulfill. I’m pathetically trying to keep control over my image—is THAT what you want to hear, magic man? Congratu-fucking-lations. You turned the tables, you can see how pathetic I am and can feel better about yourself. How do ya feel?” The astrolabe had rolled by Asivus’ lap, and gold speckled in his eyes.

Astor sighed and answered honestly. “...Well. I’m envious, truth be told.” Siv blinked, but let him continue. “I haven’t bothered trying to be a hero my whole life, much less have such a driven (and these days useless) hunger to be ‘good.’” The seer shook his head, staring down the hall again. “I’m envious, but I do think you’re a fool. I’d take the opportunity to wield the future in a heartbeat, no matter the consequences.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Siv chuckled. “This malice stuff is fucked up.”

“Only because you don’t understand it.” Astor replied, offended. “I’ve studies it for years, and it’s often misunderstood. There’s a beauty and usefulness to it, even detached from the Calamity. You’re just not intelligent enough to get it, I understand. ‘Love-hate relationship,’ like you said.” He snorted.

“Are you sick?! This Ancient Core thing made me walk through so many shitty memories and thoughts...I wouldn’t walk through that again to end OR save the world.”

“Again. All due to your plight of ignorance. It’s not your fault.”

Asivus rolled his eyes. “You know what? Why don’t you explain it me then?! If you’re so excited about it? Talk aaall about how I’m not fit to properly wield this and how pathetic I am?”

Siv dangled the astrolabe in the air between his fingers.

“Go on! Explain how great this malice is, and maybe then if you’re so eager I’ll just leave the thing in your care!”

[chokemeanakin]

Can you do a cuts & bruises imagine where the reader comes home to Anakin from a mission & she's all scraped up, and then Anakin's all like, "baby 🥺, let me make you feel better, " and he like kisses all her bruises while running his fingers through her hair 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

It’s not exactly what you requested but... 😂 anyway I hope you enjoy ❤️

(Ps jelly toast fucking slaps idc what anyone has to say)

Masterlist

Read it on ao3

Anakin Skywalker x gn Reader Whump

Reporting back to the Council directly after your mission to the Vagaba System was hell. Your sides ached with every breath you took, legs barely able to lift from the floor in order to walk. Not to mention your clothes were wet and sticking to you in odd places, probably blood but you weren’t too sure. The constant pain hammering through your body with every move you made overshadowed every other thought you had.

Of course, Yoda and Master Windu picked up on your troubles almost immediately. They urged you to go to the medbay, but you were an avid ‘deal-with-it-yourself’ type of person. You weren’t hurt too bad anyway, a couple of bruises weren’t going to kill you. The injured soldiers from your mission needed all the help they could get without you taking up time and resources begging the medics for an ice pack.

You knew Anakin would be pissed if he found out you’d skipped on getting help again, especially after last time when you almost passed out from blood loss after a bomb sent shrapnel straight into your face. Although you had completely healed from that— thanks to the remarkably advanced technology of Coruscant’s medical system— he hadn’t forgotten the way you dragged blood through the temple halls as he whisked you away to get help. He made you promise to ask for assistance if you ever got hurt again, and you had begrudgingly agreed...

But to the degree of your injuries, he had not specified.

That’s why you found yourself shuffling down the halls of the Jedi temple now, on your way to the room the Council allowed you to occupy, trying to get your aches and pains under control so you could act okay in front of Anakin. You knew he’d be waiting for you, as he always did when you came back from missions. But it was late, and if you were lucky maybe he’d already be asleep, and you would be allowed to fix yourself up without him ever having to find out...

Wishful thinking, you groaned inwardly, forcing yourself to stand up straight as Anakin opened the door before you could even touch the keypad.

And oh, was he mad.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you narrowed your eyes.

Damn, it was good to see him. Even with that pissed off look on his face, he looked as good as ever dressed in those loose pants he wore to bed, with nothing else but a robe on, left untied to expose his toned abdomen, hair perfectly messed up, metal arm glinting in the soft orange light...

Side-stepping him to get into the apartment, you ignored the daggers he was sending your way and headed for the couch so you could take off your stiff, uncomfortable boots. Anakin folded his arms across his chest and followed your movements with a cruel, calculating gaze.

“You’re limping.”

“I’m just a little sore,” you rolled your shoulder.

“There’s blood on your shirt.”

“It’s not mine.”

Thank god the fabric was thick enough to conceal the worst of the damage. You could feel the warm liquid drip down your skin in some places, although it had slowed considerably since you’d received them after getting the crap beat out of you by Mon Eila, a Separatist General with a passion for boxing.

It had been a small mercy he had managed to avoid hitting your face.

“Y/n,” Anakin stalked over to stand right in front of you. Usually his angry face scared you, but right now you knew it was just to cover up the concern he felt. “I can sense you’re in pain. Tell me where you’re injured.”

You rolled your eyes, yanking off your boots one after the other and tossing them over the back of the couch unceremoniously. “Is it too much to believe I could get away from a mission unscathed for once?”

“Seeing as how you couldn’t even water your houseplant without slipping on a puddle and spraining your ankle, yeah, I find it pretty hard to believe.”

You frowned and leaned back into the couch, hissing inwardly at the pain it sent through your bones. “I find that pretty sexist, and I request you make me some peanut butter toast to make it up to me.”

Anakin grabbed for the cloak you still had draped around your shoulders, meaning to move it so he could see some evidence of your injuries. You caught his wrist, and although he could have overpowered you, he let you stop him.

“Oh my god, it’s not like the Mighty Galactic Jedi Council chose me out of the hundreds of other trained assassins to do their bidding, it’s not like they trust me to carry out missions for them alongside the rest of the Jedi, it’s not like I’m the one who blew up that weapons factory and freed the planet of Koiwishi from the Separatist fleet trying to enslave them—“

“Okay, okay,” Anakin pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and sighed heavily. “I’m sorry for doubting your skills, that’s not what I meant.”

“Good,” you grabbed for the tv remote and flipped it on solely for a distraction. “Then go make me some toast and I’ll think about forgiving you.”

Anakin flattened his stare and shook his head all the way to the kitchen. “Since when did you get so bold?”

You pretended not to hear him, and instead took the moment of privacy you had to slowly lift up the bottom of your shirt to assess some of the damage. Blue and purple painted your abdomen in angry, swirling blossoms, only interrupted by the streaks of drying blood from the places your skin broke. Mon Eila was pretty nifty with a dagger too, you remembered, and he’d managed to catch you a couple times with the blade. Once on the side, and once on your thigh. Now that’s one you weren’t excited to see.

You ghosted your finger over a particularly bad bruise over your rib cage, where the blood pooled an angry red underneath your skin. You knew you’d been hit quite a few times, but god damn you didn’t think it’d be this bad...

“Hey, we’re out of peanut butter, is it okay if I use jelly instead—“ Anakin stopped dead in his tracks.

“It’s not that bad,” you swallowed quickly. Your shirt remained half up after your failed attempt to rip it down as he walked in from the kitchen, the blueish-purple skin looking worse and worse as the seconds ticked by and Anakin did not say anything. “It doesn’t even really hurt that much.”

Anakin stayed silent and turned on his heel to walk back into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with various bags of ice and a first aid kit.

“Lay on your back. Now.”

Well when he says it like that...

You did as told and had the decency to look a little ashamed. Resting your head on the armrest, you let him push your shirt up to reveal the patchwork of bruises staining your skin. His eyes flit from place to place, taking it all in while stewing in silent anger.

“I’m fine, Ani,” you tried to defuse the situation, reaching for an ice bag and placing it on your stomach to hide your injuries. “Look, that’s about as much as you can do about it anyways.”

“You’re bleeding,” Anakin’s fingertips traced the open wound beneath your ribcage. “Stay still.”

You folded your hands over your chest and stuck your bottom lip out thoughtfully as you felt Anakin clean your cut with an alcohol cloth. It stung, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing you were in pain.

“I would never be satisfied knowing you’re in pain.”

“Hey, stay out of my head, Skywalker,” You searched for the bracelet he had gifted you early on in your relationship, the one that could shield your thoughts from any Jedi mind tricks. Your eyes landed on it across the room, by the windowsill. You didn’t know when, but at some point he must have been able to slip it off without you noticing.

“Well since you think it’s okay to lie to me, I thought I’d have to take matters into my own hands.”

He spread antibacterial ointment over the cut and then pressed a bandage over the wound. You took the ice off and dropped it to the floor, wincing as you pushed yourself into a sitting position with your elbows. Anakin pushed you back down to the couch gently by the shoulder.

“I’ll get you your bracelet in a moment,” his tone softened, reading the distress in your mood as clear as day now that your thoughts were wide open to him. “Let me just take a look at your leg first.”

“It’s not fair. You said that if I can’t read your thoughts, you shouldn’t be able to read mine.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” Anakin placed the bag of ice back on your bruised abdomen. “I just don’t know why you had to lie to me in the first place.”

You didn’t know how to put it into words, how to explain to him your insecurities around asking for help. If you admitted you needed assistance for something as simple as a couple scratches, it made you feel weak— like a useless, vulnerable excuse of a person. It was especially embarrassing needing help from Anakin Skywalker himself, The Chosen One, the Hero With No Fear, famed General of the Clone Wars, who literally got his arm cut off after escaping an execution at the hands of a Sith Lord that one time. You didn’t see him asking for help then— granted he had passed out, but still.

Showing weakness, especially in front of the people you loved, was a feeling you have been running from your entire life.

One look at Anakin’s face, and you knew you didn’t have to say anything in order for him to understand. He closed his eyes and leaned down to press his lips to the exposed skin of your hip. His touch was feather-light, barely brushing you as to not disturb the bruise underneath.

“You don’t need to prove anything to me,” he muttered against your skin. “You’re already the strongest person I know.”

“I will be, once I can sit up without wanting to die,” you shifted your body, gasping and halting your movements when a piercing pain shot through your ribs. This made Anakin’s eyebrows draw down in concern, warm palm holding your waist to stop you from moving.

“I thought you said it didn’t hurt much.”

“You should know by now I was lying about that too.”

Anakin took a deep breath and opened a pill bottle. He dropped a couple tablets into your hand and then passed you a cup full of water.

“You think you can lift your hips for a couple seconds so I can get your pants off?” He paused at your thoughts. “For your open wound, not that.”

“See, it’s not fair! I couldn’t control that one, it just popped into my head.” You huffed but shifted your hips upward like he asked, abs screaming in protest. He managed to sneak his fingers beneath the waistband and tug your pants down your legs before you dropped back to the couch, hissing in pain.

“Damn, he got you good,” Anakin thought aloud, already wetting the cloth with more alcohol. “This might sting.”

‘Might’ was putting it lightly. A slurry of curse words filled your head as he dabbed at the gash on your leg, spanning from your hip to your upper thigh area. It was deep enough to scar, bubbling and oozing fresh blood as Anakin tried his best to clean it out. Even his cheeks turned pink from your colorful choice of words.

“Stitches?” You forced through grit teeth, nails digging into the couch cushion.

He dabbed at it some more, pondering your question. “I think you got lucky with this one. If it doesn’t start healing in a couple days, we’ll take you to the medbay.”

“Fantastic,” You wheezed, wanting so bad to kick your leg out and escape the terrible stinging. Anakin’s grip on your leg tightened, knowing exactly what your intentions were.

“There, all done,” he discarded the cloth and got to work soothing the cut with some ointment. He finished off by smoothing a large bandage over it, sitting back once it was all over. “Now how’s the bruising doing?”

Your head lolled to the side, exhausted from being in so much pain. “Still bruised,” you muttered. In fact, the ice was starting to melt and your skin was becoming uncomfortably numb and red. You took the ice off, wincing at the gruesome sight of your body again, and pulled your shirt down to cover it. “I think I’m ready to just sleep for the next 10 years.”

“Here,” Anakin slipped his hands beneath your legs and your back. With a grace only taught to the Jedi, he lifted you into his arms doing his best not to jostle you around, carrying you towards your bedroom. “You still hungry?”

You gave him a thin smile, all the answer he needed. He kissed your head as he set you down carefully onto the bed, pulling the blankets up over you. Before he left, he slipped something over your wrist— the bracelet.

The pills Anakin gave you must have included a sleep-inducing one. You were glad for the bracelet, as you made a mental note to kick his ass later for drugging you— but then again, it was doing a phenomenal job of taking your pain away now. You barely managed to stay awake before Anakin came back into the room, bearing gifts.

Jelly toast had never tasted better.

He sat beside you on the bed as you ate, carding his fingers through your hair and playing with the baby hairs surrounding your forehead. His fingertips tickled your skin, warm and soft, lulling you to sleep even further. You ended up falling asleep with half a slice of toast left in your hands. Anakin smiled softly and put it on the bedside table for when you woke up, switching off the lights with the force so you could get some good rest.

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

sooga sitting between kohga legs while hes on his throne, with his cock on sooga mouth not letting him touch his master OR himself

You are SO big brained, salsa. I love your ideas, I love your art, you are a blessing to this fucking blog, send any fucking requests your ass wants.

The Yiga clan loved to gather information. Having said that, it also made them quite notorious for spreading MIS information. As in, you’d constantly catch the members spreading rumors with one another. Only true and honest facts were given to Kohga himself, but amongst each other, their imagination went wild. Not that Kohga didn’t hear every single one. He may seem lazy to some, but Kohga was ever listening, and this new rumor REALLY got under his skin. The rumor that Sooga and him were together, and that Sooga was top. He didn’t mind everyone shipping them in the slightest, but the idea of HIM being in charge? He was so insulted, so OFFENDED. He just had to prove them wrong. Kohga got himself comfy in his favorite seat, sighing in content.

“Alright, I need my appreciation time, and Sooga here, now.”

Kohga hated the idea of royalty, but damn did he enjoy being treated like a royal. Blademasters, foot soldiers, AND Sooga appeared before him, as if by magic. The foot soldiers brought him his usual treats; bananas, freshly shaved ice with all types of nice syrups, and even sauteed nuts. Lovely spread, honestly. Kohga looked through his options, and motioned towards the plate of nuts. He helped himself to a small handful, and as he nibbled his treats, he motioned to Sooga.

“So, have you heard the new rumors?”

“Please specify, my lord. The foot soldiers do enjoy muttering amongst themselves.”

Kohga wiped the crumbs off his stomach (with the soldiers looking enviously as he did so. Some of these guys were just absolute perverts), and shook his head.

“Nope. The rumor that YOU’RE the one fucking ME.”

The members next to them tried not to giggle, clearly finding it funny. But not Sooga. Sooga cleared his throat, making the soldiers silence themselves. He gave a light bow of his head.

“I apologize that such a rumor dishonors you, Master Kohga. I could trace where these lyng roots lie, and punish them accordingly.”

“No need, Sooga. I found them already.”

Sooga (as well as the other members) cocked their heads, clearly curious. Kohga helped himself to a bite of shaved ice, before wiping his mouth (where it would have been anyway) with the back of his hand. He sighed as he locked eyes with Sooga.

“Don’t play dumb, Sooga.”

“I...beg your pardon?”

“YOU started it!”

Kohga stood up, and pointed a finger in accusation at him. Sooga gave a shake of his head.

“Master Kohga, I would do no such thing! I would only speak honest truths in your ho-”

Kohga held his hand up, silencing him. He gestured for Sooga to get down, and he obeyed, getting on one knee, and putting his head down. The proper form of a Yiga apology. Kohga sat back down on his chair, trying to act upset. The rumor being spread around was the fact part, but he knew Sooga wouldn’t ever start something like that. He was too noble, too focused on the cause to busy himself with rumors. But this made things so much more fun.

“I CAN’T believe you, Sooga. I expected more from you. I don’t mind the idea of you saying we fuck, because we do, and I’m not ashamed to admit that. But the idea of you saying that YOU’RE in charge of me? That’s just insulting.”

Of course Sooga wouldn’t say anything in his own defense. One, Kohga was stubborn, and two, Sooga would never talk his way out of a punishment. Kohga opened his legs wide open, and snapped his fingers. He was fed a piece of a banana, and as he chewed, he pretended to be deep in thought. Sooga lightly cleared his throat.

“I beg for your forgiveness, but I will accept your fury.”

He knew he’d say something like that. Such a good, good boy, his Sooga. Sooga grumbled, before patting his knee. Sooga crawled forward, stopping right in front of Kohga’s lap.

“Good. Because you ARE going to get punished, Sooga. Give me your mouth.”

There was a mumble of confusion amongst the members, but Sooga knew exactly what he meant. Sooga adjusted his face mask, showing just the mouth part of his face. Everyone gave a light gasp, as if Kohga had stripped down completely naked right in front of them. It was considered shameful to show ANY part of your face, and even showing a piece of your chin was like your pants falling down. Kohga held onto his chin, lightly brushing his thumb against his bottom lip. He had seen his face, but he had NEVER touched it. Aside from a little scar on his lip, Sooga’s features were very soft, very pleasant to touch.

“You understand, I’m not punishing you for funsies. You’re my right hand, so you need to be a step above everyone. You messing up is NOT accepted here, at all.”

“I understand fully, my Master.”

Even watching his lips move was hot. Even watching his tongue help him form words did something to Kohga. He had a good, sharp chin to boot, and Kohga couldn’t help but feel at the little spot of hair growing at his chin. Sooga was a VERY handsome man, almost as good looking as yours truly. Almost. Kohga reached down, and un did a part of his uniform, pulling his cock out. To say he had everyone’s eyes was NO exaggeration. Even members that were just passing by doing their daily duties moved just a bit slower to get a good look. Kohga’s cock was different from Sooga’s; shorter, but VERY thick. It didn’t have as much of a curve to it as Sooga’s either, but he DID share the bunch of black pubic hair (though his was more plentiful, as well as more curly). Either way, he could tell everyone was drooling behind their masks, just wishing they could get a taste. Kohga made Sooga look up at him.

“Now, you’re going to put me in your mouth. You aren’t going to suck, and I’m not gonna skull fuck you. You’re just gonna sit there, mouth full of cock, and not move. Understand?”

“I-I mean I would- I’m not, that is to say-”

Kohga liked watching this usually confident man be brought so low. Kohga rolled his eyes, and pushed his head forward, groaning in satisfaction as he stuffed himself fully into that mouth. Kohga gave himself a minute to get used to the feeling, before relaxing in his seat.

“There we go. Now, who here thinks Sooga is in charge?”

Everyone shook their heads no. Good. Kohga snapped his fingers, and another banana was fed to him. This was the life. 

“Master Kohga?”

One of the Blade masters chimed in. Aka, the ones that just LOVED kissing his ass. Kohga chuckled, loving the idea of another big, strong man being overly flirty with him. Kohga held the Blade Master’s chin in his hand, watching him nearly melt.

“Yes?”

“I just...wanted to say, I’m sorry on Sooga’s behalf. You deserve far better than someone so close to you starting such a rumor.”

“Sooga HAS been bad hasn’t he? And here he is, still trying.”

Kohga felt him try to move. He was trying to actually suck him off. While it was cute, it wasn’t what he asked for. And even worse, he DARED to rub at himself. Kohga lightly patted the Blade master’s cheek.

“Do me a favor, help me out with his hands.”

He nodded, seeming to understand perfectly well what he wanted. Grabbing some rope, he practically yanked Sooga’s hands behind his back, and tied them together firmly. Kohga gave Sooga’s cheek a bit of a firm pat, chuckling to himself.

“I wasn’t gonna do that, but you were touching yourself. This wasn’t supposed to be fun. This is punishment, Sooga. You sit there, and you do nothing. Look at me with that mouth full of cock, and tell me you understand.”

That's what he loved about Sooga. He can understand him just by looking right at his face. One of the foot soldiers took another careful step forward, offering him more snacks. Kohga happily let himself be fed and treated, and when you paired that with the endless praises and glances he was getting from many of the clan members, he could tell it was getting to Sooga. His breath was getting hotter, his look was getting hazy, and he kept groaning against his cock. And did Kohga make it worse? Absolutely. In between the constant praises he was getting from his soldiers, Kohga kept petting his head, and making quite a public display with his compliments.

“Who’s a pretty boy?”, “Who’s a good boy?”, and Sooga’s favorite, “Who’s MY boy?”

Each question, each stroke of his head made Sooga tremble something fierce. It felt incredible, but it was killing him. He was being treated like he was owned by Kohga, right in front of everyone. Mouth visible, hands tied, he should be ashamed. But he was honored. Master Kohga chose HIS mouth to have his cock in, HIS head to pet and fond over. One of the foot soldiers (who had previosly been giggling and feeding Kohga his favorite fruit) looked underneath Sooga, and lightly whistled.

“Master Kohga, he’s leaking all over the floor.”

Kohga seemed to find that amusing, lightly smacking his cheek. Even THAT made him throb.

“Sooga, you wanna cum don’t you?”

Sooga nodded, careful not to move too much, less he invoke more of his fury. Kohga ran his fingers across his scalp, and he could tell Sooga got quite the goosebumps.

“Well, you’re not going to. No one is gonna cum today, because no one earned it. I won’t even cum in your throat, and I know you want that.”

Kohga didn’t know how long he sat there. He just knew that Sooga waited patiently, being his own little cock warmer, while he was being fed and loved. Combine that with the shame Sooga was made to bear, was it any wonder his mind lost itself to lust? Kohga eventually decided that he had enough, and slowly pulled Sooga off of his dick. Sooga’s tongue hung out of his mouth like a mutt, and slobber stained not only his lap, but Sooga’s uniform. Kohga watched the hot breath make bouts of steam in the cold night air, and damn was that something tasty. Kohga leaned down a bit to Sooga, not caring how much everyone was staring at his own half hard cock.

“I want you to remember something. I want you to remember how I taste, and I want you to remember I’M in charge of you.”

Sooga gave a faint, almost tired nod. Sooga was a big, hunky slut, and Kohga adored that about him. Kohga leaned back, and gestured to himself.

“Tuck me away, Sooga.”

Sooga was clearly in mourning, but he obeyed, fingers lightly fumbling. Kohga chuckled, giving a light shake of his head.

“You’ve done okay. But we can do better. You’re going to stand there, and let everyone see how hard you get for me. Understand?”

“C-completely, my M-master.”

“Oh, and Sooga, one more thing, before I take my nap.”

Kohga’s hand clamped around his throat, giving it a nice, firm squeeze, just where he knew he liked it. And he lowered his voice, making sure Sooga didn’t miss a single beat.

“I love you, Sooga.”

He knew from the way his body quivered, knew the way he swore, that he just came. Kohga chuckled, letting him go, before turning to his side, and falling asleep to the tune of everyone muttering absolute adoration for him.

Sooga was REALLY a good boy.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Hello yes, could you elaborate on the Comte wedding event pleease. Crying and fangirling and dying are all acceptable. I missed it and I adore your rambles about Comte? Thank you either way.

!!! I’d be delighted to!! And awww, I’m so glad :D I love to write about him in any capacity, it makes me so happy to know people enjoy it when I do! Tysm for the full license to cry/fangirl/die because lbr it ain’t a Comte event if all three of those things don’t happen .Please don’t worry, I don’t mind talking abt it anyway! 💕💕💕

Okay my fellow Comte stans, you know the drill! I’ll be placing the details of the Wedding Story Event (jpn version) below the cut! Please don’t read if you want to wait for the official translation, and I hope you enjoy if you do take a peak! c:

AIGHT Y’ALL in fair Verona where we lay our scene-- This event begins on a lovely summer day with Comte and MC at a boutique picking out a wedding dress for their upcoming ceremony. As usual, she provides a bit of background as to how we got here. Comte doesn’t have a proposal event (as far as I know) like the other suitors because he actually proposes marriage in his MS. I won’t go too far into details just in case, but they essentially swear their love to each other in a church at night--just the two of them. (I’m not 100% sure, but I think this event takes place on the anniversary of the vow that they shared, what Comte called becoming “a vampire’s bride.” Yes it’s as hot as it sounds AND I LOVED IT). Now, despite their private promise to each other, Comte does specify that he fully intends to have a public wedding whenever she feels comfortable doing that. As such, this event is picking up from there.

With all the nitty gritty settled, it’s time to get to the fun bits. So Comte is weaving in and out of the dresses, trying to find the perfect one for his beloved. MC is equal parts exasperated but amused, and she notes that it reminds her so much of when she first debuted in high society (reference to the beginning of Comte’s MS). Back then, when she agreed to debut, he told her that he would immediately send word to his tailor to make the necessary preparations. It’s a kind of nostalgic moment; she remembers how thorough and excited he was (”I’ll be sure to show off your every charm”), and he’s effusing that energy in the boutique too. Eventually he settles on two of them and requests that they both be prepared, and MC sputters. She’s like Comte???? W H Y we only need one dress???? And he insists that, since it’s a special occasion, there’s no harm in it is there? He also goes on to say that it is in line with her culture’s tradition of “dyeing the bride in the husband’s colors.” MC shoots back that the tradition doesn’t entail several wedding dresses for the bride, but he pays the correction no mind. Y’all. I loved this part because it just emphasizes how much of a LIL SHIT he can be. Like he’s 100% harmless but I was like BOI IF U DON’T--I WILL KISS UR CUTE FACE. YOU STOP THAT.

I find it interesting especially because it remains in line with a trend about Comte that is so arresting for me, something that I find so endearing about him. I’ll note other places in the event I find it, but in this moment he is revealing something critical: for all of his capacity to play with the language and expectations that other people have/use, he only ever uses it for good. Here he’s purely being playful (with a stark note of respect and awareness); he has no intention of overwhelming her or undermining her cultural expectations of what a wedding means. Especially because MC, even in her monologue, isn’t truly upset--she honestly seems to find it adorable and funny more than anything. It’s also clear that Comte is working within her comfort zones. While he would buy the entire damn boutique if she let him, he settles on two because he knows it would stress her out otherwise (MC tends to be p pragmatic, not really about extravagance she is a mood).

And so they make their selection and exit the boutique, and they’re walking arm in arm back to the carriage. Comte laments narrowing it down to only two, but he’s happy they found something nice. MC thanks him for bringing her along, but he says it’s only natural--he wanted to pick out the dress the world would see together, he would never be happy with it otherwise. MC melts (WHO WOULDN’T) and says she’s really looking forward to wearing them, and he’s shook AF. 

(OKAY BUT I NEED TO SCREAM ABOUT THIS. DOES HE UNDERSTAND HOW TOUCHED I AM. DOES HE KNOW. His route hammers home this idea that for Comte, being with someone absolutely means being on the same page. It means being there for each other yes--but it also means making sure the other person feels wanted and included. He could have so easily just picked his favorite and been like “yeah this is what we’re going with.” But not only does he not do that, he refuses the very idea of a ceremony without it. He wants this to mean something for both of them, and he’s more than willing to put in the time and effort to ascertain that. I’M FUCKING TENDER OKAY. HE CARES SO MUCH AND I SOB)

He asks her if there’s anything else that she really, really wants for their wedding, and she thinks it through. It’ll be a reasonably sized wedding, with the men of the mansion in attendance and most of their closer high society friends. They’ve picked out a dress, the venue is set, the people closest to her will be there...she really can’t think of anything else? So she asks him if he has anything he really wants to do for the wedding, and he replies in the negative too, saying that “My only ideal wedding can be one in which I can see you at your most happy." ARE YOU KIDDING ME--Before MC can recover from that, he goes on: "Even now, I'm enjoying the preparations, and I want to do whatever I can for you." MC feels like she can never win against his sweet affection, so she nearly kills him with her answering line: "It’s more than enough. More than anything, being able to swear our love together again--to renew our vow--is the best part of it all." Comte is visibly shocked and is quiet for moment (MAN DOWN!!!!!!!!! VAMPIRE DOWN GET THE DEFIBRILATORS!!!!! LEONARDO PUT THAT LIGHTNING ROD AWAY I SWEAR TO GOD--) before he just replies with a “Is that so :>>>” And translating this nearly killed me [At the sight of his gentle smile, I smile back.] IM GOING TO SCREAM THEY ARE JUST SO TENDER IM SOFTE????????????

As they’re walking, Comte asks MC to tell him about weddings in her time. What were they like? He wants a reference point. She goes on to describe how ceremonies really range from formal to more informal affairs, and gets to a little custom that’s apparently held in Japan. When a groom intends to marry a bride, he will go to the bride’s family to ask for their approval. Comte visibly seems concerned about it, and I’m pretty sure he feels bad denying her that experience; not only did he propose to her without knowing any of that, her family isn’t within range to be able to honor it properly now. Even so, he keeps listening and comments now and again with a great deal of interest, paying close attention. He asks, what happens if the groom is rejected by the family? MC goes on to say that it’s a kind of test of perseverance: the groom is expected to ask/prove himself until he gets an answer in the affirmative. Internally, she notes that such a thing rarely ever happens irl--it’s mostly dramatized in movies and TV shows. She used to dream of how thrilling it might be to have someone do that for her, but it was mostly just a silly little fancy, nothing she was obsessed over. Comte, being a literal fucking legend, senses this emotional shift in milliseconds, and starts musing about something. When she tries to ask what’s up, he’s like not to worry leave everything to me.

PLEASE CUE THE CIRCUS MUSIC. BECAUSE THIS IS ABSOLUTELY GOING TO TURN INTO A CLOWN FEST.

So it cuts to them back home and Comte is asking Sebastian to give MC’s hand in marriage. Sebastian is utterly bEWILDERED and is like “I mean I understand I’m probably the closest relative she has right now but also WHAT!? YOU’RE MY BOSS/LORD I’M YOUR BUTLER FOR CRYING OUT LOUD”. Comte 100% is undaunted by this very normal reaction and insists that class/status has no place in matters like this, and Sebastian and MC are desperately trying to stop him from bowing his head/kneeling. MC notes she never expected him to take it to heart, tells him "Comte, you really don't have to go that far, it's a custom not a duty--" (IT’S SO FUCKING FUNNY????? YOU CAN FEEL THEIR MOUNTING CONCERN AND I CAN’T BELIEVE COMTE WAS STRAIGHT UP JUST “i am not above begging” AND THEY’RE LIKE YOU SHOULD BE YOU SHOULD BE ABOVE BEGGING)

The circus only escalates when Leo comes in LAUGHING HIS ASS OFF "damn...bahahahhahahaaaaa now THIS oughtta be good/interesting." MC (and I simultaneously) start yelling at him and he replies "What? Comte's already ready and willing, why stop him?" For whatever reason, this gives Comte an idea (NEVER A GOOD SIGN) and he’s like you know what? That’s actually perfect, get everybody in here I’m gonna ask them for permission too :D

Several things I want to say about this. 1. COMTE LITERALLY DOES NOT EVEN REACT TO LEO’S MOCKING HE JUST “omg ur face was useful for smth for once this gives me an idea” 2. META TIME. First and foremost, I seriously can’t deal. This man knows MC has nothing because of her traveling through time, no friends or family--he’s always so, so aware of what she’s sacrificing to be with him. It is never outside of his thinking. Not only does this decision solidify her presence as a member of their family (I’m just so UGLY SOBBING about the fact that he does not consider them all ANYTHING LESS--THEY ARE HIS CHIRREN AND HE LOVES THEM AND I’M SOFT) this is also such a brilliant, strategic move on his part. Not only is he doing this to fulfill her younger wishes of having someone be so confident in their love for her that they would insist on it in front of her family/loved ones--his doing this also solidifies her presence as his wife within the mansion from here on. There can be no mistake; this is an unquestionable statement as to how her identity has shifted in meaning, a powerful allusion to his possessive streak. (and WE LOVE THAT FOR US HELL YEAH) 

Furthermore, I continue to be fascinated by the way he keeps subverting traditional or expected forms of supplication. While many could see this as a yielding of his pride (and in some ways he undeniably is) this choice to acknowledge her culture’s customs yields much more valuable dividends for him. 1. MC--notorious for never betraying the things she wants, having trouble asking for anything--is have her dreams fulfilled even if they were just silly little fantasies from when she was young. He’s actively making her happy, and he gets to openly gush about how much he loves her (FOR HIM THIS IS THE DEFINITION OF A WIN-WIN YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND--) 2. This is a way for him to make amends and do proper respect to the marriage customs of her place/time, and that’s infinitely important to him. He’s trying to set a precedent; that even if he ever does make a mistake or neglect something (even if accidental) he will do his utmost to make it right, pride and money be DAMNED. 

While it can be argued that he’s just being silly and over-the-top, when you look closely this is 100% a clever, very mindful approach to their future. While it may partially have been executed on an emotional/excited whim, he is also claiming MC as his own in the most clear and respectful way possible. And tbh that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen 

So, after Leo walks in on them everyone else starts filing in one at a time (OKAY YOU CAN’T CONVINCE ME THAT THEY WEREN’T ALL HUDDLED UP TO THE DOOR SQUIRMING TO HEAR WHAT WAS GOING ON AND AT SOME POINT LEO SAID “omfg i gotta see this dumbass bitch on his knees” AND BLEW THEIR COVER/MADE THEM EVEN MORE CURIOUS):

Jeanne: "It's so noisy in here." 

Mozart: "What's going on?"

Comte: "Ah, excellent timing. I want to get permission from everyone."

Vincent: "?????? Did you do something wrong Comte?? What could you possibly need forgiveness for?"

Isaac: "A mistake made/wrongdoing by Comte?...Why am I dreading what it could be..."

Dazai: “Ah yes, yes I see, you are asking for a young lady's hand in marriage” (IM WHEEZING BC EVERYONE ELSE IS SO LOST AND HE'S JUST 100% ON THE BALL KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT'S GOING ON THE NARRATIVE DISSONANCE IM CRYING)

Theo: Young lady??? The hell are you going on about

So things are getting increasingly chaotic and MC is just [jfc this is getting out of hand, Comte they don’t even know what you’re asking them to do]. She tries to explain but falters, and Comte puts an arm around her--signals that he’ll give  them the context. So he tells them "You all know that our wedding day is approaching. As such, I'm asking you all for your approval in taking MC as my bride. No matter what happens, I promise to make her happy forever--for every moment, every second of our time together. Please, forgive my taking her" (WHEN I TELL YOU MY HEAD WAS IN MY HANDS IDK HOW MC DIDN’T DIE ON THE SPOT S I R. SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) MC: [...Comte...My heart melts at his confession, at his earnest plea. It feels like every single iota of our feelings are infused in every word he speaks, teeming with the love shared between us in overwhelming measure.]

For a little while silence falls until Napoleon speaks up, and honestly? It was so sweet ;-; I tear up every single time: “Forgiven. You know how much I dislike formalities anyway. And besides, who could say no to le Comte?” MC notes that everyone murmurs in agreement and a kind of warmth settles in the room. Arthur notes that MC will be a Comtesse very soon and MC just. I’m going to be a WHAT now (”C-c-comtesse??”). And it’s so FUCKING FUNNY YOU CAN FEEL THE RED EYE EDIT MEME ON COMTE WHEN HE GOES “Oh? Is there anything wrong with that? Everybody said yes, after all :>” MC internally accuses them of ganging up on her, but reveals that more than anything she’s a little overwhelmed by the outpouring of love in the best way:

MC: [Overwhelmed with feeling; touched, a little shy, embarrassed, but also full of joy--my eyes burn at the edges with tears] “I'm glad everyone approves c:”

Comte: Agreed :> your country/homeland has a nice custom. A v important step to inviting my loved one into my life as my wife :>>>>

So it then cuts to them in Comte’s room after the circus and MC thanks him for the sweet confession in front of everyone, tells him how happy it made her. He insists that it was only natural he would, and that it isn’t even enough.

Comte: “I am the one...your life, your time as a human being; I'll be taking all of it from you.”

MC: [...Comte? He took my hand with a very serious expression]

Comte: "As I said before, I will make you a vampire someday."

MC: “Don't call it that--a price. I want to live with you too!”

MC notes that while she hasn’t made the leap yet, she knows she’ll be ready for it soon enough. 

Comte: “Thank you. But the last thing I want is to take things from you, I want to do everything I can to make you happy, to make you smile. Whether that means weddings, requests--anything in my power.”

COMTE REALLY SAID "she is entrusting me with her future and that means I have the responsibility of not only ascertaining her happiness, but proving my unwavering devotion to it" AND IM HOLLERING????? LADIES GET YOU A FUCKING MANS. MC finally begins to understand this, and she’s like OMFG is that why you went off so hard this afternoon???? And Comte’s like :>>>> guilty as charged, though I think I'm also just still excited about the wedding too, haha! They hug it out (YESSSSSSS LET ME H O L D) and MC asks him again if there’s anything he wants for the wedding too. Aight y’all I would be irresponsible if I didn’t warn you beforehand, get fucking tissues. I’m still upset abt his answer and I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. He thinks about it for a bit, before kissing her forehead and saying “I suppose, can you pray for my happiness too? That's enough."

AIGHT IMMA GO BACK TO THE EVENT IN A SECOND BUT I GOTTA SAY. BITCH. BITCH ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME????? COMTE THAT ISN’T OPTIONAL THAT’S A GOD DAMN PREREQUISITE?????????????????? OFC WE WISH FOR YOUR HAPPINESS WHAT THE FUCK??????????????? THE A U D A C I T Y. I’VE NEVER BEEN MORE INSULTED IN ALL MY LIFE. OKAY RANT OVER.

MC is surprised but naturally agrees to it, having wanted that for him even without prompting. She continues to think on it, insisting that she wants to do something for him too. An idea sparks but it only says that she made preparations without telling him anything for now, preparing a tangible sign of her love for the wedding.

The premium end begin here. She’s getting dressed for the wedding, and she’s--as usual--in awe of his perfect selection of accessories/jewelry to go with the gown. She’s about to put on her shoes when she notices something odd, and there’s a knock at the door. Comte enters to ask if she’s ready, and they both freeze and stare at each other. They both sheepishly admit to being completely taken with the sight of the other, and they laugh about it together. Comte tries to ask if she’s ready again, and she assures him that she is--just that she found something unexpected in her shoes.

He explains that the coin is an English six pence. Sebastian told him that they are no longer made in her time, and Comte explains he acquired it about three hundred years ago in England when he was living there (he says that he kept it back then because he liked the design on it). He explains that there is a tradition, that the English would put a six pence in a bride’s left shoe in the hopes of wishing her good fortune and prosperity in her oncoming union. MC has her understandable and customary (JESUS I FORGET HOW OLD THIS MAN IS SOMETIMES) and he places a hand over hers that’s holding the coin when she starts staring at it. 

Comte: "Hey, MC....Time goes by, and various things will continue to change. Among them, it is only vampires who survive without dying or changing."

MC: "Comte..."

Comte: "I used to think that made it--made us--empty. But...I don't think that's the case anymore. I'm proud of being able to keep this undying, unchanging love for you."

[He put the coin back in my left shoe, and offered them to me--gentle as though they were made of glass(Cinderella's)]

MC spends this exchange on the verge of tears, but keeps it together for the wedding. It depicts their loved ones all around them as they walk down the aisle, and skips to the end of the ceremony. The priest tells Comte he may now kiss the bride (WHEN I WAS TRANSLATING IT SAID “KISS YOUR BUSINESS” AND WHEN I TELL YOU I WHEEZED), but just as he’s about to lift her veil--she stops him in his tracks. He’s confused, and says her name, but she reassures him that she just wants to offer him a wedding gift before he lifts it. Hidden in her bouquet are two pins that she had made, and she pins them to his jacket. They were made from preserved flowers, encased in metal to render them undying/everlasting. 

MC: [Me too...I want to wish for your happiness...]

MC: “For you, things might feel fleeting--like they just pass you by, are lost before you can grasp them. But even so, my feelings won't change; just like this preserved/undying flower and the life of a vampire--dedicated to [Comte's real name] in everlasting love."

COMTE.EXE HAS CURRENTLY SHUTDOWN. REBOOTING.

MC notes that his eyes get misty and he leans his forehead against hers.

MC: [Comte's real name]? 

Comte: .................I want to hug you as tight as I possibly can, but I'd hate to ruin the flowers/your gift to me

BITCH WHEN I TELL YOU I SOBBED. WHEN I TELL YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 1. I CANT GET OVER THE FACT THAT HER GIFT IS NOT ONLY CANON BUT ITS LITERALLY ON HIS WEDDING SPRITE, HER LOVE IS A VISIBLE MANIFESTATION ON HIS PERSON ALWAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2. THE FACT THAT SHE ONLY ADMITS TO BEING THE HAPPIEST SHE CAN BE WHEN SHE SEES HIM SO HAPPY TOO. THIS IS SO MUCH. SO M U C H

And so Comte lifts her veil and kisses her gently uwu cover ur eyes chirren, the hall erupts in raucous applause and the crowd starts congratulating them!! Comte then encourages everyone to have fun, and the reception takes on the vibe of a kind of social gathering. MC notes that he seems to prefer this level of interaction, just relaxed and everyone chill, and she turns to tell him that it seems like it’ll be fun! Before she can finish her sentence, he kisses her fiercely before leaning back with a sigh, "It's still not enough, but I'll save the rest for later tonight." BITCH!!?!?!??!??!? HOW THE FUCK CAN ANYONE FOCUS ON A STUPID PARTY WHEN YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT, HELLO???????MC notes: [Everyone from the mansion that saw the kiss made fun of me endlessly, and I hid my face in my bouquet] SAVE HER. Once again, it skips to the end of the reception and they’re now in Comte’s room. (I will blink twice if I think you need tissues BLINKS TWICE) 

Comte: "Yup, perfect." [He places the flower pins I gave him next to THE hourglass in the room, looking pleased HNGNNGNGNNGGNGN MY EYE HOLES ARE SUFFERING

MC: "I'm glad you liked the gift c:" 

Comte: "It is proof of your unchanging love, of course I cherish it :>"

She’s just so happy to see him so delighted with it. He asks how she liked the ceremony, and she gushes about how much she loved it. He hugs her (AWWWWWWWWWWWW) and then he notes that while it was fun to celebrate, all he wants now is time with his wife (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA). He starts kissing her like the world is ending, and she says she needs to get changed--but he doesn’t care, says she’s fine as she is and that he wants her right now.

Aight usually I don’t get into epilogue territory, but honestly, this shit was JUST too good. Now this man made of magic asks MC if she’s wearing her bridal garter (you know, the one that usually comes with the whole bride ensemble in Western tradition). And she’s like ???? Uh, yeah, of course? Why... He says that he saw something interesting at a friend’s wedding reception once upon a time, and explains that the garter is usually removed and thrown to the bachelors (analogous to the bride’s throwing her bouquet, and whoever catches it will be the next to get married). PLEASE NOTE HE IS KISSING HER FOR LIKE 90% OF THIS IT’S AMAZING

MC: "So it's like the bouquet toss?" 

Comte: "Yes. Now then, how did he remove the garter...?”

HE DUCKS DOWN AND SHE’S LIKE COMTE!?!?

Comte: “...Ah yes, the groom removes it with his teeth >:D”

And so this man HAS THE TIME OF HIS LIFE tugging it down slowly under her dress, caressing her legs and loving every part of her. MC’s face is on fire, and she’s torn between being turned on and embarrassed. Eventually he reappears after teasing her MERCILESSLY and admits that he didn’t do it at the reception because he didn’t want anyone else to see her reaction. Blushing, shy, desirous--all of these feelings are his to keep and enjoy. (I!!!!! LOVE!!!!!!!!!! HOW SUBTLY POSSESSIVE HE IS AAAAAAAAAA) MC notes internally that she feels the same way about him, how he only shows this intensely passionate side to her. Comte is uncharacteristically impatient and frenzied that night, and they both go at it.

It skips to midnight where the two are cuddling in the aftermath, just being cute and happy. Comte, the absolute MADLAD is already thinking about how to celebrate next year--and she just giggles at him (he’s a wackadoo but he’s her wackadoo LMFAO MOOD) and he laughs with her. They essentially swear to promise their love over and over in the future, and it just ends on that wholesome note :>>>

Also can I just. The fact that he lived for so long alone, but was always, always paying attention to all of these little things that are done with a person’s loved one ;-; that he would remember his friend doing that at his wedding and be like BROOOOO I WANNA DO THAT IF I EVER GET MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!! I just. It’s so heartbreaking and touching at the same time, I just want to hold him forever ;-; the fact that he doesn’t seem to worry as much about his own happiness, seems absolutely floored that MC would do anything in return. I JUST LOVE HIM WITH EVERYTHING INSIDE OF ME 

THIS IS WHAT PEAK PERFORMANCE LOOKS LIKE

[killjoystuff]

roleplay  prompts  made  out  of  some  songs  featured  on  my  spotify  release  radar.   random  pulls  from  random  artists;   no  specified  genre,  just  the  ones  i  liked  the  most  from  this  week’s  selection.

SNOW  GLOBE  -  WATERPARKS.

❝ Why’d you wake me? ❞ ❝ I was having that same old dream again. ❞ ❝ Everybody goes home alone. ❞ ❝ People miss the old you. ❞ ❝ They hate everything that they all changed you into. ❞ ❝ I’ve been dead since 2016. ❞ ❝ Fuck my plans. ❞ ❝ I think you need more from me. ❞

FIRE  -  THE  VACCINES.

❝ That’s what I wanted. ❞ ❝ It’s not as if we cry a river, call it rain. ❞ ❝ I take it for granted. ❞ ❝ For some of us, it ain’t enough. ❞ ❝ I put on a good show for you. ❞ ❝ Will you let me believe that I broke through? ❞ ❝ Tomorrow could feel like a hundred years later. ❞ ❝ I can learn to see with a partial view. ❞

NOT  DEAD  YET  -  LORD  HURON.

❝ It’s hard to make friends when you’re half in the grave. ❞ ❝ I ain’t dead yet, and I’ve got something to say. ❞ ❝ You look like hell and you smell like death. ❞ ❝ I swear to God I don’t know him. ❞ ❝ You’re tired of me, I’m tired of you. ❞ ❝ I’ve been out way too long. ❞ ❝ If she asks about me, tell her I’m not dead yet. ❞

EMPTY  -  CHASE  ATLANTIC.

❝ You still think about those old times. ❞ ❝ I don’t feel euphoria now. ❞ ❝ You win, gold star. ❞ ❝ Tell me why the fuck I feel so empty. ❞ ❝ Her friends never really liked me. ❞ ❝ They’ll do anything they can to spite me. ❞ ❝ This might be the reason that she left me. ❞ ❝ I feel empty. ❞

WAY  LESS  SAD  -  AJR.

❝ I don’t wanna hurt no more, so I set my bar real low. ❞ ❝ I’m a-okay! ❞ ❝ You say it but you just don’t mean it. ❞ ❝ I ain’t happy yet  -  but I’m way less sad. ❞ ❝ Living sucks, but it’s sucking just a little now. ❞ ❝ It’s stupid but it’s all I have. ❞ ❝ I’m trying too hard, but I can’t not try. ❞ ❝ I’m not dead yet so I guess I’ll be alright. ❞

[mst3kproject]

The Equinox

'Aleczilla51297′ appears to have made a tumblr purely for the purpose of telling me I need to review Equinox and Godzilla vs Hedorah.  I decided to do Equinox first because I’ve already seen Godzilla vs Hedorah, which is one of the preachier Godzilla movies but does have that hilarious bit where the big guy flies by using his atomic breath as a rocket.  If Equinox turns out to be a #fuck this movie entry, then Godzilla can act as a sort of a palate-cleanser.  And so, without further ado:

Something blows up, a woman called Susan dies, and a dude gets run down by a driverless car.  My Dad would feel vindicated – he finds the whole idea of self-driving cars untrustworthy.  The victim, whose name is David Fielding, ends up in a mental hospital, where he tells his story to a psychiatrist.  Seems that Dave, his pal Jim, Jim’s girlfriend Vicky, and Vicky’s friend Susan, headed up into the mountains for a picnic with their old teacher Dr. Waterman. These people are all idiots.

The four young people arrive to find Waterman’s cabin destroyed and a creepy old man living in a cave nearby, who gives them a locked book. Because the characters don’t know they’re in a bad movie, they don’t realize that the book is clearly the fucking Necronomicon, and decide to crack it open and read it while they eat their KFC. To nobody’s surprise, they’re soon being chased around the countryside by dumb stop-motion monsters.  At the end everybody’s dead but Dave, who’s in the mental hospital waiting for the fulfillment of a prophecy that said he would die a year and a day after the original events, but that’s not a spoiler because it was the opening scene.

Let’s go over the shit that happens when these four clowns arrive at Dr. Waterman’s.  The cabin’s destroyed and the park ranger who discusses it with them says his name is Asmodeus.  Does that sound like a signal you should get the hell out of there?  No?  Okay, how about when they find a castle they can’t remember being there before?  Still no?  Well then, on their way to the castle (which later vanishes behind a wall of invisibility, probably because they couldn’t afford interior sets), they come across a cave with Green Goblin laughter echoing out of it, and weird velociraptor footprints all around.  Would you leave, or would you light up some torches and go check it out?  What about when you find a partially-mummified corpse in the cave?

The whole first ten minutes of the flashback that comprises most of the narrative is a litany of things I’m pretty sure anybody would flee from in real life.  I don’t believe much in the supernatural but if I saw all that I would be sure that multiple crimes had been committed and that I wanted no part of it.  The characters of Equinox, however, insist on investigating themselves, and continue to make stupid, stupid decisions for the entire run time.  Yes, let’s all go in a group to check and make sure the monster is dead.  Let’s hang around and bury the bodies ourselves instead of getting back to civilization for a police report and a good stiff drink.  Let’s collect the picnic stuff before we leave because that basket cost at least $15 at Wal-Mart.  It’s the kind of movie where you start to get annoyed that the characters aren’t dying fast enough.  When we finally get back to the opening shot I mainly felt relief that the movie was almost over.

The MST3K movie Equinox most reminds me of is The Day Time Ended: there are people in the middle of nowhere and, for some reason, a bunch of random stop-motiony things happen that never actually add up to a story.  Stuff comes and goes without serving any purpose other than to be creepy.  Who was Crazy Cave Guy?  I at first assumed he was the missing Dr. Waterman but Waterman turns up later and immediately dies, so what’s going on with this other guy?  What’s about the cave mummy… who was that?  Was the man who showed up to snatch the book actually Dr. Waterman or just a demon in his form?  Why is there a random graveyard in the middle of the woods?  Why does the psychiatrist have a creepy monster mask on his wall?  What’s up with Asmodeus apparently trying to rape Susan without even unbuttoning his pants, and later possessing her so that she does the same thing to Vicky?

Dialogue specifies that Dr. Waterman was a geologist, which seems an odd choice for somebody to be translating ancient documents.  I mean, there’s no reason why a geologist can’t have a side interest in ancient manuscripts, but when a movie takes the trouble to tell you something like that there’s usually a reason why.  Geology is never important to the plot, even tangentially.

It must be said that Equinox makes slightly more sense than The Day Time Ended, in that we’re actually given a reason why these events are happening.  Dr. Waterman had acquired and translated the Necronomicon and could not control the demons he summoned (I am convinced that Sam Raimi saw Equinox when he was around twelve and thought, shit, I could make a better movie than this!).  A huge tentacle creature destroyed his cabin, and then there’s the sabre-toothed ogre, the giant green caveman, and of course, the devil himself.  These creatures have a motivation: they are determined to get the book back, whether through force or persuasion.  The events could still happen in any order, but it all has a common core, rather than being just a collection of Concepts.

In capable hands this story could be made to work (see previous parentheses), but sadly none of the hands involved in making Equinox were remotely capable.  The acting is abysmal, mostly just people standing around awkwardly reciting their lines. All the dialogue was then dubbed over in post-production, which makes it even more stiff and awkward.  There’s a bit where a guy reads a letter as if he has to sound out each word.  The direction and music are bland.  Even the costumes are awful.  You’d think it would be hard to fuck up costumes in a movie set in the present, but it looks like everyone just turned up to set in their street clothes and they went with that.  Good costuming can tell us a lot about characters but the outfits here say nothing. Also, both Vicky and Susan are blondes in blue shirts, and once Susan’s hair falls out of its bun they’re basically indistinguishable.

The characters have no discernable personalities.  How they react to things changes from scene to scene, with nobody’s motives clear.  The only thing that remains constant is Jim wanting to leave while Dave always wants to stay and take care of something or other.  Stuff happens that could result in character development but none of it is ever followed up.  The most notable example is when Dave feels terrible guilt over having apparently killed Dr. Waterman, but this is forgotten a few minutes later and we never even find out if the dead man were really Dr. Waterman.

The effects are uniformly bad, but not usually enough so to be entertaining in themselves.  The castle is an obvious matte painting and the stuff on the other side of the portal, whether it’s Hell or the Dark Dimension or I don’t even know, is just the same spot in the woods with an orange filter over it.  There’s a stupid spinning thing used to represent Asmodeus exercising assorted dark powers.  The devil and the sabre-toothed ogre are both stiff and shitty stop-motion puppets.  The animation is surprisingly competent for a movie with the budget of Jr. High drama club, but they’re still not good.  The one exception is the giant green caveman, which looks dumb but is quite convincing as occupying space and interacting with the characters.

One might expect that this movie would be about the temptation of evil.  The monsters in it are summoned using a book of dark knowledge, and in trying to get the book back Asmodeus offers Jim anything he wants – money, prestige, women, you name it.  Problem is, there’s never any sign that the main characters are in fact tempted.  The crazy guy in the cave wants nothing from the book except to get rid of it.  He passes it on to Dave and Jim with evident glee.  Dr. Waterman’s interest in it, according to his notes, was purely scientific.  He summoned demons just to see if he could do it, but he doesn’t appear to have gained anything thereby except the knowledge that it works.  The main characters never even attempt to use the book, even to get themselves out of this mess, they just run around trying to keep it out of the hands of the monsters.  I’d say it’s like if every character in The Lord of the Rings was book-Faramir, but only a colossal nerd would use an example like that.

Honestly, I think this movie was about the wrong characters.  Dr. Waterman’s process of discovering the book and learning to use it, only to realize he’s unleashed things he cannot control, would probably have been a much more interesting story.  The characters from this film could have shown up at the end to fish the book out of the mess, with the implication that they will be its next victims.  This would have been a much better way to explore the ideas of temptation, making a Faust-like character out of Waterman as he is tempted not by riches or fame, but by knowledge and power.

Equinox is not quite #fuck this movie bad.  In order to earn that tag, a film has to be unwatchably dull and/or morally repugnant. I didn’t have any trouble sitting through Equinox but I also didn’t really enjoy the experience.  As movies about demonic forces go, it’s pretty bland and nothing much really seems to happen.  I guess that means I have to forgive Aleczilla51297 for sending it to me, but I’m still looking really forward to a Godzilla film or two.

[confusedhalfofthetime]

I am the previous anon 🥺👉👈 The prompts were "did you just hissed at me?", "Welcome back. Now fucking help me" and "kiss on the nose" (hope you have a lovely day)

Thank you so much for the request, darling. Hope you enjoy xx

Plot: the Reader and the Master had a row and they go their separate ways but they can’t stay away from each other for long.

Warning: blood, curse words a little bit of angst but mostly fluff. This can be both a F!Reader or an M!Reader, the gender is not specified.

Prompts: “Did you just hiss at me?”, “Welcome back, now fucking help me” + kiss on the nose.

You were home. Your old periphery apartment was even duller than you remembered. 

He did it. After all the times he said he would do it and you didn't believe him, the Master had finally left you. Just like that. He had flown the TARDIS to London and he had left you in front of your building with nothing more than a "get out". He didn't even look at you, he had just stood there, resting his hands on the console and clenching his jaw. 

So you had done as he said and left, not without slamming the door behind your back, of course.

You had felt mad, every unch of your body was hating him as you walked out. But now that you looked around and saw the white-grey walls, the dusty carpet and the untouched beer still on the table in your living room from the last time he had picked you up and you had followed him to the TARDIS, to the stars, to all of time and space, you couldn't feel anger even if you wanted. All you were feeling was cold. Probably because you hadn't switched on the heater in...how long had you been away? When you time travel it becomes impossible to tell.

You let out a long sigh. Well, it was done, there was no going back now. You just had to accept that.

Months passed. It felt more like a decade, to be honest. 

Work was always the same, boring, flat. No aliens to run away from, no kings to assassinate and most of all, no Master.

You missed him like crazy with his impossible socks and those unreadable dark eyes. You even missed your quarrels and his teasing. 

As you were deep in your thoughts, nibbling at your pen and completely ignoring the excessive amount of work on your desk, you heard someone screaming. You snapped out of your mind and turned around toward the window, right in time to see, on the street below the building, people running as fast as possible from a huge, red creature with long arms and even longer claws. It looked a bit like a mad chimpanzee. 

And then you saw him. The Master was clearly trying to calm the creature, holding something in his hand you couldn't see from there. Apparently, he was also failing in his attempt as the creature hit him with his claws. You gasped loudly and before you knew it, you were running outside. 

The street was a mess, people running and screaming and hiding in the closest shops. 

You saw the Master entering in one of the side streets and you followed him.

-Fuck...- you heard him mutter as he held his injured arm.

-Master...- you approached him and he turned around quickly. 

His sleeve was torn and you could see drops of blood falling from his wound.

-What are you doing here? - he asked.

-I work here. What are YOU doing here? -

The Master glanced behind your back, making sure the creature hadn't followed him.

-I'm working as well-

You rolled your eyes. -Of course you are. What is that thing? -

-It's not important. You should get back to work-

-I would if a gigantic alien monster hadn't appeared out of thin air! -

The Master looked at you seriously.

-What can I do? - you asked, ignoring the way his deep gaze made you feel.

-There's nothing you can do- he snapped.

You could practically see the walls getting up again, after everything you did to put them down.

-You're hurt, there's an alien attacking people in centre London and you're in no condition to stop it alone so I'm gonna ask again: what can I do? -

The Master bit his lip, considering your words.

-Fine- he gave in. -Distract it, I just need a few minutes to adjust this stupid thing- he said slapping the TCE he was holding with his blood-stained hand.

Of course you were gonna be the bait. You nodded either way and ran out of your hiding place. The creature was busy destroying a trash can and chewing on it like it was a piece of bread. 

-Hey you, stupid...monkey! -

The alien turned toward you, his eyes dark and hungry and his mouth drooling and wide open.

-Oh shit- 

You started running like hell. Oh, you had missed it.

As you passed the halley, the Master jumped between you and the creature and pushed the button on his TCE. Which didn't work.

-Oh, come on! - he said sounding exasperated.

In no time, the monster was on him, as the Time Lord struggled to push his long arms away from him.

-You know, this reminds me of so many bad days- you said, terrified but slightly amused. 

-Yeah yeah, welcome back, now fucking help me! - he shouted through gritted teeth.

-Oh, yeah, right- you looked around and saw a cane someone probably dropped while running away. You picked it up and hit the alien with it. It gave in a painful, animal-like noise and you took a step back as it got on his two feet and raised his clawed hand.

The Master quickly jumped up and pointed the TCE against it once again. This time, fortunately, it worked. 

-Thank you- you said as the Time Lord picked the now tiny creature in his hand. He glanced at you and put it into his pocket.

-You weren't so bad yourself-

That was the maximum of his compliments. You definitely had missed him.

-Does it hurt? - you asked pocking his arm. 

-Ouch! -

-Sorry...isn't it suppose to close on its own? -

-That bastard had poisonous claws. It prevents wounds from closing instantly. It'll heal, eventually- he said looking annoyed.

-Let me patch it up- you suggested.

The Master looked at you in silence, considering your proposition for a few moments before nodding and leading you toward the TARDIS. You entered with a smile on your face. The ship had become your home. You couldn't believe how much you had missed it. The TARDIS' console activated to welcome you with that familiar noise you liked so much.

-I missed you too beautiful- you said caressing the console.

The Master looked at you without you noticing. He didn't think he would ever see you again after your row. Yet, there you were, talking to his TARDIS as if it were a pet. 

He collapsed on the nearest chair and you directed your attention back to him. You took the emergency kit from the cupboard he kept it in and went to sit next to him.

-Alright, take off your shirt- 

He smirked. -So many memories- 

You rolled your eyes, trying to focus on wetting the cotton instead of his necked chest.

As soon as you placed it on the Master's arm he hissed. 

-...did you just hiss at me? -

-Maybe if you were a bit more delicate...ouch! -

-You're such a baby-

You said tapping as softly as you could on the open wound.

-Did you mean it? What you said back there? - you asked out of the blue. -When you said "welcome back" -

The Master kept looking ahead in silence. -You are welcome to stay. If you want-

You smiled, keeping your eyes on the wound.

-And- he paused, taking a deep breath. -I'm sorry for making you leave-

You did not expect that. He turned to look at you as you didn't answer.

-To be honest- you said. -I don't even remember what we argued about- 

The Master grinned and winched slightly as you put bandages around his arm.

-And I'll be more than happy to come back- you said as you finished patching him up. You left a kiss on the bandage and then another one on his nose. 

-I missed you- you admitted.

-I know- 

You laughed and pushed him slightly on his good arm.

-Alright, alright. I missed you too-

[starblaster]

athenais lemaire :0

athenaïs lemaire (he/they/she) is something between a protagonist and narrative focus from a novel i workshopped about a year ago (and am presently in the process of turning into an audio drama podcast with the help of some friends because i think it would function really well and best serve its purpose as a story in the audio and transcript format)

to summarize, his story is inspired by. a lot of things. i took inspiration from pre-existing works like the little prince, doctor who, interstellar, the never-ending story (sort of), porco rosso (i’ll.. i can explain), orlando (the movie and book), and howl’s moving castle (just a little bit. for the vibes)... as well as things that weren’t really stories at all, but which my brain sort of took off and ran with like the voyager mission(s), the existence of the old ‘methuselah’ tree, the 52 hz whale, roy’s monologue from blade runner, a sort of ethereal humming sound that gives me frission chills (idk what else to call it—it can be heard in the first 33 seconds of “relic” by reeder... but honestly the entire album this song is found on has inspired me a lot as well), the hesitant feeling we all get when we have something precious and we don’t want to Use and Enjoy it because we fear we’ll ruin it or use it all up (a blank and brand new sketchbook or a vinyl record, for example).. and a question someone asked me once, when i was like 15 years old, what i would do if i got one chance to go back in time and change something that i thought might make the world a better place.. to which i answered: the burning of the library of alexandria.

his story is about accepting things that are temporary, embracing loss, and learning to live with a unique and cosmic loneliness that none of us could possibly imagine.

(i’m putting the rest of this under a readmore cut because it... got very long and wordy fjdklsf)

the story ‘begins’ chronologically in 1780s enlightenment-era france with athenaïs lemaire and two of their friends who have built a time machine. they are essentially anti-elitist outcasts from the academic community who have a lot to prove so they’ve decided they’re going to use this time machine (which is, due to the nature of its components, not really built to last and is absolutely going to be a one-time trip) to go back in time and save the library of alexandria. the mission can only take one person. they draw lots and athenaïs gets the shortest stick. he knows it’ll be a very arduous mission to take on but in his mind it’s worth so much more than just himself so he’s willing to risk. just about everything. to see that the library of alexandria is saved.

i won’t get into details because i don��t really have certain things about the logistics re: granular historical details figured out yet—it was in lots of my workshop notes because i skipped over it entirely and i just know i need to do some more research to get things squared away before i write the episodes that will be spent delving into athenaïs’ backstory—but, in short, it works! the plan really does work. he’s able to salvage a wealth of documents and artifacts from the would-be-torched library alexandria. but time freezes and everything stops; the entire universe pauses as minerva/athena (she specifies that she does not really have a name, but that is the name the greeks and romans have given her) tells athenaïs she can’t let that information stay on earth. it wasn’t meant to survive into the coming era.

but she cuts a deal with him and really sweetens the pot—tells him she’ll give ‘his’ ship (which jkfld he stole or ‘borrowed’ from a roman merchant depending on how you want to phrase it) some generous enchantments: flying power? check. breathable atmosphere on deck and in the rigging? check. tardis logic cargo hold that can store an almost endless number of things like a museum of infinity? check... and she will grant him ‘immortality’—aka a lifespan of suspended age (to help him travel light years) that is so exceedingly long that he will no doubt witness the heat death of the universe - and though he can still certainly sustain injuries, even extreme and otherwise fatal wounds, he will heal from them given enough time and rest and this is. sort of his curse. think like. jack harkness from doctor who... and he will be granted these two things if he agrees to live in exile from earth and never return. if he wants to save all that knowledge and information, he has to take it elsewhere. he has to go share it with other alien cultures and maybe, along the way, help some space aliens defend their right to universal knowledge on their own home worlds (kind of borrowing from the little prince with the episodic planet-to-planet kind of structure). and so he does that. he does that alone for a really, really long time.

and then a stowaway finds their way onboard the novice.. and i have yet to give the stowaway a name but also wonder.. if they need one? i think they will canonically have a name that is just. secret. the stowaway sort of becomes athenaïs’ gateway into lots of complex emotions regarding his immortality, the responsibility of duty he manufactured for himself to basically be a space-traveling curator/archivist of sorts. he’s not used to having friends (let alone friends that are as close as family) after centuries of loneliness wherein his only company was the ship (which is absolutely alive, in a way) like. a large part of his character arc is unlearning the nihilism with regards to himself and his immortal body that he's adopted over the centuries. like, sure, he has motive and drive to go around collecting artifacts and such to share cultural knowledge with the people of the universe but he’s never had a crew to speak of before now.

and i’m currently getting a little emotional over a conversation i write the "alien cleric” (still no name yet because i am a fool with nonsensical priorities when writing things lmao) as having with him (in summary) like, "yeah, captain, you're going to outlive us. you're going to outlive all of us, but that shouldn't mean that you turn the crew away out of fear. you've got to accept that nothing lasts forever. in fact, some things don't last very long at all. you can't preserve everything. they're not artifacts you just have to learn how to get the most out of their company and their love while they're here with us, and keep them in your memory long after they're gone." they spend so much of their immortal life just trying to save things and keep them safe forever. and they're often a little reckless because he knows he only really has to 'worry' about the novice (because the ship can absolutely still be damaged) but once other people start figuring into the equation it's like. ok now hold on, i have to take care of myself? because it will hurt these people—who have formed a bonded attachment to me—to see me in pain? oh no. oh lord. oh fuck.

athenaïs has had a very lonely life! he’s sort of a sisyphean archetype character but becomes less alone over the course of his whole story via found family. thinking about it in depth, though, makes him very tempted to push crew members away (because.. ouch! he's getting attached), or put mental ultimatums on when he should tell them to think about leaving his crew because he doesn't want to see himself outlive them. he wants to save them like he saves artifacts and manuscripts & like he rescues them from being lost or damaged or aging. but you can't preserve your friends like artifacts, athy </3 i'm sorry mate. he feels a sense of responsibility for what he's doing and believes he needs to keep doing it because he made a promise to himself and also to the literal goddess who gave him an immortal life long enough to survive near-endless light years’ worth of travel, etc, etc.... but also hates how much of a curse it is.

like it really tears athenaïs up inside thinking about how the plan he and his colleagues came up with worked and he was so close to making that dream of a better world into a reality. feeling like he wasted a perfectly good once-in-a-lifetime trip into the past to fix something. and how he simultaneously feels such regret because nothing will have changed on earth, he didn't really save anything for humanity's future, he just took it with him. feeling like he did it all for nothing but sometimes being reminded that he can still share the things he's collected from alien worlds and documented to spread to other alien worlds & share with the rest of the universe and that actually he is helping. he just. sometimes forgets this. forgets that earth wasn't capital-e Everything, just a small world in a really big universe that he happened to come from and can never return to. hell, by the time the stowaway has found themself aboard the novice, it already contains far more alien textbooks and manuscripts and artifacts than it does earth-things.

also hi if you read all this... 🤍 i hope you’re having a really fantastic day right now. thanks for sticking with me, i’m thinking constantly about this story right now because i’m in the process of turning it into an audio drama with the help of some friends, as i said at the beginning of this post, and i just love talking about it. i’m sad i can’t provide spoilers for some big plot-relevant things that have to do with athy’s character and his development but i’ll keep them to myself because i definitely don’t want to ruin any surprises :’)