#he needs to seek asylum

[purge-samauwu]

I don't see anyone hating jaekyung on here with the appropriate levels of furiousity that are required so allow for me to fill that void.

FUCK THIS HORSE LOOKIN MOTHERFUCKER. TWEAKIN ASS. EVERY TIME I SEE PEOPLE LUSTIN FOR THIS BAKUGOU ASS OGRE ON MY HOME AND FYP MY WHOLE MOOD RUINED. I FOUND OUT ABOUT THIS MANWHA ON A WHIM AND I WISH JUST AS EASILY AS I FOUND IT THAT IT COULD NOT EXIST. RABID DOG LOOKIN ASS. RAPIST BEIN ASS. EXTORTIN ASS. COMMITTIN 16 DIFFERENT CRIMES EACH CHAPTER. I WANT TO CHOP HIS DICK OFF AND BLEND IT THEN FORCE FEED HIM IT. DISTRIBUTER OF REVENGE PORN ASS. MADE TO BE THE GUY THAT ONE GIRL ALWAYS TELL YOU ABOUT BUT ALWAYS BACK TOGETHER WITH. BUT CRIMINAL!!!!

SAVE YA BOY!!!

Just letting my rage out. Thank you for your time🙃

[flor4zul]

Free Sal Khan from ICE

i'm making this post on behalf of a friend's friend who's been detained by ICE and is facing torturous treatment in solitary confinement.

if you're in America, please sign the petition:

copy-pasted from the page:

Muhammad Salman Khan, known by their community as Sal, was unjustly detained by ICE in early May. Sal is an openly queer journalist and political refugee from Pakistan who is seeking asylum in the U.S. for their human rights activism. We are calling on our community to help us demand Sal's release from Plymouth County Correctional Facility, and an end to all detainments by ICE!  Sal is a LGBTQ activist and journalist from Pakistan.  Sal (he/they pronouns) was born and raised in Abu Dhabi, UAE, moved to Karachi, Pakistan at a young age and lived there for the majority of their adult life.  He came to the United States in 2019, and applied for political asylum in fear of persecution and torture in Pakistan for being an openly gay activist and journalist. He is also part of the politically persecuted, Urdu speaking, Mahajir community. "As a transgender person in Pakistan, embracing my identity has been incredibly challenging. I am profoundly thankful for Sal's unwavering motivation and empowerment from a very young age. I vividly remember his exact words: 'You can get your rights here; that's why I always support you, but I am not celebrated here.' His support has been a cornerstone of my journey, and now I am reaching out to support him in return. A brother who has been there for his sister equally deserves protection, security, and justice. Please help us and support me in this call to get justice for my brother. Your support matters."- Aradhiya Khan, Sal's sister

Sal has always given back to his community. Sal is an active community member belonging to many organizations, including the Asian American Resource Workshop (AARW) in Boston. Over the past two years, Sal's involvement with AARW has included participating in the Activist Training Institute, Podcast team, and the Queer & Trans Asian Pacific Islander caregiving workshop series. He is a past twice elected member of Massachusetts Commission on LGBT Youth, and before his detention he was doing community service work in Boston. Sal is an asylum seeker, but ICE still considers Sal “illegal” in the U.S. Sal was detained on May 7. They are currently incarcerated at Plymouth County Correctional facility with little access to the outside world and under increasingly debilitating conditions.  After being detained, Sal was placed in solitary confinement, a cruel and traumatic punishment. ICE often places queer detainees in solitary confinement under the guise of “safety” but we know that this is a way to compound and escalate the violence of detention. Sal was released from solitary but we are deeply concerned for Sal's mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual wellbeing. We need to move for them now!  Their first important immigration court hearing is June 10.  Please help us show Sal that their community loves them and are with them, and we will fight for their release along with all others suffering from the violence of our criminal legal and immigration systems!  Sign this petition to show your support and demand Sal's freedom from detention!

[ohhoummm]

[biceratops7]

I’m gonna SCREAM-

We’ve already established as a fandom that Metatron could teach a masterclass on gas lighting, but I wanna talk about how he specifically validates the things Aziraphale cares for while simultaneously devaluing them under the surface.

First off, this moment?

Tells us everything we need to know. It sets the scene for exactly the games Metatron is playing. He makes Muriel feel important while openly insulting them (flat out calling them stupid), aka seamlessly reinforcing the idea that they’re less than to both them and anyone else in the room. He knows he can get away with this easily, he knows that Muriel, lonely, overlooked little Muriel, will be completely distracted by the fact that someone so important is taking an interest in them.

This is already horribly clever, but then later on you realize it’s doing even MORE heavy lifting when he appoints Muriel to run the bookshop. “See? What’s important to you is what’s important to me! I’ve graciously taken the time to ensure your beloved shop is looked after by Muriel. You know, the dim one!” …let’s suffice it to say he’s ensnared too birds with one net for this one, and that a pattern is already starting to arise.

So when Metatron says Gabriel came to Aziraphale because he’s a “natural leader” and “doesn’t just tell people what they wanna hear”? Yah he’s full of shit. Aziraphale struggles with his sense of purpose when he doesn’t have someone or something guiding him, and for thousands of years he’s been terrified of sharing his true feelings and opinions to 90% of people he’s known. Completely just trying to butter him up. Wanna know the real reason Gabriel seeks asylum with Aziraphale?

Exactly this. Gabriel just says so point blank. It’s not because Aziraphale is this person for him, it’s because despite knowing nothing, he has this instinct that Aziraphale is the only one who can possibly understand why Gabriel did what he did. He is, I mean as far as we know, the only other angel who has fallen in love. (In general, let alone with a demon.)

But nope, can’t have that. We can throw the promise of restoring Crowley in the mix to sweeten the pot, but we can’t acknowledge why he’d want that so badly in the first place. So now it’s cause they work so well together. We can praise the angel for the fallen archangel Gabriel himself coming to him protection and guidance, give him a gold star. But we couldn’t DARE imply that it was by virtue of Aziraphale’s courage to choose earthly love over heavenly. How Gabriel didn’t need a leader, but a friend who’s truly known the joys of adoring that “particular person” and the pain of needing to hide it.

Cause then Aziraphale would start getting crazy ideas, like that his silly little human feelings have a great deal of worth. That they have the power to inspire, form cracks in the institution, fundamentally weaken what has controlled and harmed him. We wouldn’t want him to know the true value of the cards he holds when he has the ace in a match against you, now would we? After all…

Metatron uses this ingeniously sinister tactic of taking away Aziraphale’s choice while giving the illusion that he’s actually opening up doors. Notice how he tells Aziraphale he would have the authority to do something as extraordinary as turn a demon into an angel, yet he never once puts the much simpler alternative of just working with a demon on the table? The sleight of hand here is that he’s being offered the opportunity to freely be with Crowley… but he’s already freely with him as is, no bargain to be made. In fact he fought to be. Metatron disappears this accomplishment right before our eyes, while seamlessly maintaining the illusion to Aziraphale that he (Zira) is in control.

He sets Aziraphale up for failure by only providing the option he knows Crowley will not only decline but be deeply hurt by. It’s all so cleverly planned. Once this plays out exactly how he wants, he delivers the finishing blow by diminishing Crowley and his “damned fool questions”. Suddenly doing a complete 180 and emphasizing how foolish and troublesome he is. Metatron was offering Crowley by Aziraphale’s side as The Carrot. Now he’s telling Aziraphale it was stupid of him to want The Carrot, un-heavenly.

Aziraphale’s life, love, happiness, it’s all not only a massive inconvenience for Metatron but a liability. He has successfully taken a weapon from Aziraphale’s hands he didn’t even know he had. Metatron sees the writing on the wall, and he wants it contained.

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes Thinking abt Yandere!Neuvillette with a Sovereign!S/O who seeks asylum in Fontaine after years of hiding in Teyvat from the Fatui, Celestia, etc...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The moment you enter the Palais Mermonia, Neuvillette feels your presence; like when the sun peaks through a blanket of clouds on an overcast day, something heavy falls off from his soul, like a curtain opening. His office doors open and you find yourself face-to-face with the only being like you in this land.

Of course Neuvillette can't just drop any of his appointments or cases, so he asks you empathetically to wait out in the lobby until his lunch break. Before he returns to his office, he asks one of the Melusines working to keep an eye on you and to make sure you don't get hurt or run off. His fingers twitch as he takes one last look at you, his eyes searching deep into your soul.

When he's finally finished with all his paperwork and met with several people, he ushers you in his office, his face imperceptible. Beneath his human facade, there are currents of emotions pushing against one another like boiling water: protectiveness, anxiety, fear, jubilance, relief. Neuvillette asks you if you want something to eat. Some water from Monstadt to go along with it, maybe?

He lets you tell your story and listens patiently. His expression, perfected over the course of hundreds of thousands of trials, stays perfectly intact, but the tides of his heart lurch as you tell him about all the atrocities committed to you.

The waters roar, and the dragon stirs.

When you ask for asylum and protection he is quick to agree. Very quick. Almost immediately he promises to set you up with a comfortable apartment, a simple job at the Palais organizing papers, some Mora to help you buy clothes, and whatever else you might need. He has to return to work, unfortunately. But he asks again if you can stay in the Palais Mermonia until he is done with work—or at least his official work—for the night.

Your agreement is the most beautiful sound he has ever heard.

The rest of the day, Neuvillette cannot think. There is an permanent indentation in his mind now from that first feeling of sensing your presence. The feelings duplicate themselves in his mind until he can hardly grasp his pen. Words on pages turn into soupy mush.

For the first time in centuries, Neuvillette does not stay late to continue working. When the clock strikes seven, he has already neatly organized the work he has to get done on his desk to pick up later. Briefly, his expression eases, thaws in a way, the corners of his lips slightly upturned, a hint of fondness finding its way into his iridescent eyes.

Unfortunately, he says, he can't organize all of the papers and contact all of the people needed right now to get you what he promised. However, he can offer you a guest room in his home. Your agreeance is so beautiful, your smile radiant like the sun and eyes shining like stars. He wants to see you smile. He likes it. Loves it, even.

As the two of you walk through the streets of Fontaine, the energy of the city begins winding down; there are still people clustered at cafes and musicians spouting tunes off into the evening summer air, but already, stars have begun to appear in the dazzling dusk sky.

You say you love the stars. Neuvillette listens with rapt attention, as though he is studying for the most important test of his life. He is an Akademiya scholar, and his Darshan is the study of you.

You are his star.

After the walk home, Neuvillette finds himself blessed by your expression when you gaze into the foyer of his house. It's nothing extraordinary like the opulence of the nobility, but it is upper-class; a quiet luxury permeates through every part of the home, from the banister carved with patterns of the sea to the walls painted a rich, deep blue.

He holds in a laugh when you see a potted plant and gaze at it like it is a miracle of life. Perhaps it is, with its delicate petals and fragrant scent. How—he wonders as he guides you to the guest room, nearly reaching to put his hand on the small of your back before deciding against it—could it survive this long? How did it not get ripped apart or trampled on by beasts and humans alike? The thought lingers in the back of his mind like the last traces of sunlight beaming in through the windows.

Neuvillette files it away.

When he goes to bed, he cannot sleep. Part of him is worried that there is something genuinely wrong with him, that he should seek medical attention. But that's impossible. And he knows it. It is an easy, dismissive lie; thin like ice in late winter. Once he smashes through it, he plunges into something lethal.

Is it wrong, Neuvillette thinks, that he wishes to protect you?

He should rephrase that. It is wrong that he wishes to keep you tucked away somewhere where those beasts will never hurt you again?

He holds a court case in his mind, you versus him. He cards through the evidence. The laws. He goes on a hunt in his archives for a tome on the law when he needs clarification.

When he composes a mental opinion to this rhetorical case, it is after several hours of back-and-forths in his head. But he knows now.

You are a special case, Neuvillette thinks. Cursed by Celestia even, he would say, with how much you have gone through, escaping the clutches of the Fatui and their Harbingers, and countless other evils. He can trace the scars on your hands knowing there are thousands of tragedies written in invisible ink over them. Could he be what decodes those messages? He can. He will.

To put it more plainly, you don't fall under the standard limits of jurisdiction of Fontaine's law. You are a Sovereign, not a citizen of Fontaine, and in addition, you fall under the qualifications of a person in extreme danger. Your very existence is endangered, the elusive essence of your being alluring to the foulest forces in Teyvat. And since the Archon of your element has not rescinded their powers, you are so very vulnerable.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Time passes strangely after that night. The god of time has always been a strange, fickle thing in an immortal being like Neuvillette's eyes, but after meeting you, it has only become more warped.

You go out to cafes together. Neuvillette buys you a croissant. You ask him what lavender tastes like. He describes it the best he can, and you buy a lavender latte. You and him share easy, pleasant conversation on a small streetside patio. That is just one morning. There will be an infinite number of mornings like that, but they will all carry that insurmountable significance to Neuvillette. Just like your smile. Your face. Your eyes. Hair. Nose. Everything. Anything. All of it.

This is love. It must be.

Days float on by like meandering clouds, the guest room slowly transforms into your room, and the thought of an apartment is abandoned. Neuvillette asks you to start helping him organize papers in his office, find the right tome he needs on Fontaine's laws from his expansive shelves. He buys you clothes in shades of blue, gray, and white, your outfit's color palette harmonizing perfectly with his. Your days are spent constantly together, going from home to the Palais Mermonia, back home, maybe going out for dinner or some other excursion like an opera or show, and Neuvillette is pleased.

Pleased because you have not tried to fight against this. Pleased that you are just as affected as he is. Pleased that he wakes every day knowing you are safe in your home. Pleased that you are his.

His grasp slowly tightens around you like a gardener lining his pruners up against a flower. His hands clasp yours. They draw around your back. Cup your cheek. Brush your lip. When a stranger finds themselves talking to you, Neuvillette's gravity draws you back in, like the earth and the moon. The stranger is simply a speck of dust in this cosmos, never to fall into your shared orbit again.

When you finally kiss after months of this slow pull, Neuvillette knows it is over. You are his. Your room is now his room. Your bed now his bed. Your love is now his love. Your life is now his life. And you know it. And he knows it. And you both know it's for the best.

He will protect you. His rose.

His star.

His love.

Forever.

[help-i-need-a-cool-username]

Random meet the batfamily reveal situations i dont see enough of so have some examples/prompts

The JL: Batman is truly terrifying. No one has the guts to lie to his face

The JL: *video calling the batcave*

FEW MINUTES LATER

Spoiler: *walks across the room and is seen as she passes behind Batman*

The JL: wait! Its you!

Batman: Spoiler, why and when did you have contact with the Justice League?

Spolier, no hesitation: i have never met these people in my life

The JL: WHAT? What are you talking about?!? We saw you two days ago

Spoiler: wasn't me. I don't know what to tell you, you must've saw someone else

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

Batman: *turns on his camera for the JL zoom call*

THE BATCAVE IS COVERED IN GLITTER

The JL: uh, Batman?

Batman: *steamrolls right into the meeting material so he doesnt have to talk about falling for a prank*

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

THE WATCHTOWER CELLS, WHICH HOLD THE MAJORITY OF THE BATKIDS

Batman: what happened?

The JL: well this group broke into the Watchtower and put Green Arrow and Green Lantern in the infirmary! They refuse to tell us who they work for or how they got past security-

Batman: *trying not to laugh because he is pissed that they broke into the Watchtower and possibly compromised them all but the image of Lantern and Arrow sitting next to each other in matching bandages like cartoon characters is hilarious*

Batman: i can answer one of those questions. This group typically works with me. They are supposed to be stationed in Gotham right now.

The JL: WHAT

Batman: Nightwing, what could not be accomplished at the cave that this many of you needed to come here?

Nightwing: well, uh, you see...

Batman: Robin, why are you all here?

Robin: there was a... incident in Agent A's kitchen. It is no longer usable. We are here seeking asylum from his wrath.

Batman: *facepalms*

The JL: *gasps at the facepalm*

Batman: one of you blew up the microwave again, didn't you?

Robin: i will neither confirm or deny that claim.

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

THE JL STAND SURROUNDED BY DEBRIS. A EXPLOSION GOES OFF IN THE BACKGROUND.

Batman: *dealing out his children's punishment*

The JL: damn he's really giving it to them

Orphan: *hugs Batman's arm and gives him puppy eyes*

Batman: *speech falters but he keeps going*

Nightwing: *comes up behind Orphan and rests his chin on her head, also giving puppy eyes*

Batman: *speech begins to taper off*

Signal: *starts faking a leg injury and claims to be exhausted*

The JL: no, he's not gonna FOLD is he?

Robin: *refuses to stoop so low as to use these tactics but is adorably sulking behind them*

Batman: *folds like a house of cards and the kids get off mostly free AND with hugs*

The JL: *are flabbergasted*

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

JL SCREEN IS COMPROMISED DURING A MEETING AND IS NOW DISPLAYING A VIDEO CALL

The JL: how did you hack our security?! It's the best in the world

Red Robin, clearly exhausted: i built your security you fu-

Batman: Red Robin. What can we do for you.

Red Robin: answer your damn phone when i call you.

The JL whispering: who does this guy think he is?

Red Robin: we're out of coffee. I need you to swing by the store on your way back or just steal some before you leave.

The JL: you interrupted our very important meeting because you want Batman to go grocery shopping for you!

Batman and Red Robin: no coffee is a emergency.

Red Robin: *cracks open a five hour energy*

Batman: please don't-

Red Robin, making direct eye contact: *pours five hour energy into a can of monster*

Red Robin: desperate times call for desperate measures, B

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

Nightwing: it's freezing out here.

Nightwing: *pushes Superman aside so he can wrap Batman's cape around him*

The JL: uhh

Batman: i told you to bring a jacket.

Nightwing: jackets limit my mobility. And last time i brought one it got slashed to pieces and i had to buy a new one. I cant do that every time it gets cold!

Batman: *sighs*

The JL: did Batman just sigh in defeat??!!?!!!??

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

Oracle, interrupting a meeting: Batman. It's been four hours.

Batman: i am aware. Thank you Oracle.

Oracle: you need to eat, B.

Batman: i am fine.

Oracle: then you shouldn't have a problem eating. I know there are snacks in your belt.

The JL: is Batman getting bullied by his own AI?

Oracle: i am not a AI. And i will hold up this meeting until you eat.

Batman: *grumpily pulls out a granola bar and starts eating*

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

Red Hood: *marches right through the Watchtower and up to Batman*

Red Hood: you did not tell Robin to "just watch" Pride and Prejudice!

Batman, calmly turning in his chair: i did, yes.

Red Hood: i can't look at you right now. I don't know if i can ever look at you again.

Batman: the one i recommended is praised for it's faithful adaptation-

Red Hood: it's not the same! There is no substitute for reading a Jane Austin work!

Red Hood: next you'll tell me you've never read it

Batman: *silence*

Red Hood: YOU'VE NEVER READ JANE AUSTIN?!

Red Hood: get your stuff, we're leaving.

The JL: where are you going?

Red Hood: to a bookstore!

Red Hood: i'm coming over for lunch tomorrow and you better be at least one chapter in. You hear me, B?

Batman: Hn

[doll3tt33]

╰➜ ⊹ ࣪ ˖┆soon to be inactive┆⊹ ࣪ ˖

she/her 𝜗𝜚 libra ☉ libra ☾ sag ↑ 𝜗𝜚 will come back to occasionally post and drop off a bot of the evans if I make any

my most recent fic/hc! - my haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets ❥ colin zabel

everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ❥ colin zabel

‘cause when you know you know ❥ colin zabel

my most recent c.ai bot! - playing dangerous ❥ colin zabel

a day in the life of a cleaner for homelander ❥ homelander

check your window, he’s at your window ❥ tate langdon

Goodbye for now! ♡

Requests are closed cuz I’m moving on with other interests, so this account wont be as active anymore. might come back one day.

rules for bots. picky for fics but might consider

a lil’ info:

• If you’re under 18, then it means this place isn’t for you and YA BETTER GET OFF MA PROPERTY!! On a fr note, please do not interact if you’re a minor.

• characters I’m sorta confident I won’t mess up with (aka characters you can request for): Kai Anderson, Tate Langdon, Austin Sommers, Kyle Spencer, Kit Walker, Colin Zabel, Peter Maximoff, Stan Bowes, Luke Cooper, Charles Decker, + characters from The Boys

• characters I’m not so confident with right now: James Patrick March, Jimmy Darling, Warren Lipka, Mr. Gallant.

I’ll need a rewatch to get a better grasp of their character so they won’t be ooc, but I’ll make them available to request in the future!

• general requests are cool! but I really appreciate requests with a specific scenario/AU. This is a kink-friendly blog, so feel free to go wild!

Bots & fics masterlist below the cut!

all of the bots below have detailed defintions and descriptions, along with example messages! So dw, none of them are empty carcasses of an ai bot

angst/dark themes - ✮ sfw - ❀ (might lead to) nsfw - ✧

c.ai filter breaking tut: pt.1, pt.2

Kai Anderson:

𝜗𝜚 Fanfics:

Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in. ✮

𝜗𝜚 Headcanons:

Kai Anderson SFW headcanons ❀

𝜗𝜚 AI bots:

Being in a toxic relationship with Kai (based off the song ‘Ultraviolence’) ✮

Kai breaking into your home for revenge ✮/✧

Visiting spiritual counselor!Kai to seek guidance ✮/❀

Kai coming up to you at a bookstore ❀

Kai “accidentally” spilling his coffee all over you ❀

⇢ I recommend the bookstore one over the coffee one if u r looking for a standard Kai bot to use, cuz the former’s settings are improved ((but like the coffee one’s still aight ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Colin Zabel:

𝜗𝜚 Fanfics:

Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ✧

My haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets ✧

‘Cause when you know you know ❀

𝜗𝜚 AI bots:

Getting arrested by Colin… again ❀

Having your first session with therapist!Colin ❀

Professor!Colin teaching you on your first day of college ❀

Peter Maximoff:

Peter challenging you to Pac-Man at the arcade ❀

Chilling with Peter in his room ❀

You’re both lonely on prom night so Peter invites you to join him ❀

Stan Bowes:

You’re the daughter of Stan’s boss and he has to pick you up from a party ❀

Having your first ever dinner with sugardaddy!Stan ❀

Interrupting Stan in the middle of work ❀

Austin Sommers:

paparazzi!Austin who won’t stop pestering you ❀

Kyle Spencer:

Frankenkyle showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night ❀

You’re a new witch at the academy and you’re responsible for Frankenkyle ❀

Studying alone with frat!Kyle at the campus library ❀

frat!Kyle comes up to you at a college party on New Year’s Eve ❀

Tate Langdon:

perv!Tate snapping photos of you in the school’s bathroom ✧

Helping Tate after he gets bullied at school ❀

Tate walking in on you playing a ritual game ❀

Dealing with an emotionally unstable Tate after your break up (based off the song ‘Meant to Be Yours’ from Heathers: The Musical) ✮

Kit Walker:

singledad!Kit hiring you as a babysitter ❀

Kit taking all the blame for you at the asylum ✮

bartender!Kit serving you a free drink ❀

Getting steamy with husband!Kit in the kitchen ✧

Luke Cooper:

Luke getting everyone’s coffee orders wrong but yours ❀

[arabriddler]

things that still make me sick to the stomach about questions multiply the mystery

spoilers ahead!!

The fact that Ed needed a whole team of psychiatrists to study him

I am obsessed with the way of how at first you think the riddler is talking to you, the reader, but then it turns out he’s talking to a mirror, then the mirror is revealed to be a double mirror, and where psychiatrists are supposed to be there is no one. So no one heard him.

there is tragedy from the reader’s perspective to see Edward have a breakdown about not having someone listen to him when you’re here and you listened and you understood the riddle.

the thing about the twist in the comic is that on one side, isn’t it tragic that for someone who says ‘ it’s only the attention I wanted ‘ to realize no one cared? On the other side, what’s the perfect punishment for a man who seeks attention and validation so so much? Is this karma? Is this tragedy?

the possibility that if someone, anyone, listened, it would’ve helped Edward get better, but no one did. In a way, it’s a commentary on Arkham asylum and humanity.

when Edward kept breaking off and fighting with Batman and imagining him bleeding into his narrative. Okay.

“ I’m not a riddle anymore !”

this was the only time Edward opened up and it felt like he cut his chest open and spilled his guts and soul and at the end he stood there in the room staring at the gore under his feet and no one was there to witness it.

[sundrop-writes]

Shared Trauma

Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader

Summary:

Gar had a very hard day. You know you can’t take away the pain, so you try your best to distract him from it instead.

Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut and Angst. Set during Season 1, Episode 7.

Word Count: 3,600

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: some emotional angst, mentions of trauma/PTSD - Gar kills someone for the first time and is very upset about it (as in the canon), friends to lovers, takes place during Season 1 Episode 7 (“Asylum”), descriptions of canon level violence, this is a smut fic, the reader character is implied to be fat, the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, this isn’t a hard sub/dom relationship but there is sub/dom undertones, Gar is more submissive and the reader is more dominant, the reader calls Gar ‘good boy’ and he really likes it, tiddy sucking, p in v sex, unprotected sex, the reader rides Gar, creampie, quick/desperate sex. I believe that’s everything. Most of the focus here is on the emotional side of things and not the smut so if you wanna see more PWP, definitely let me know.

A/N: fic is titled after a Pierce The Veil song because I have been obsessed with the new album, and I think it really fits here. Having a trauma with someone, but it just draws you closer together and makes you seek comfort in them. I did consider making up a mission that wasn’t in the canon for this, but I am always drawn to how sad, wet, and pathetic he is after killing the scientist, especially if we’re doing sub!Gar - he seems especially subby and in need of comfort.

...

When you woke up alone, you weren’t entirely surprised. 

Of course you missed Gar’s presence beside you in bed. But you hadn’t exactly expected him to be sleeping peacefully after the day the two of you had. 

You and Gar were always the type of best friends to share a bed. Both of you sought the kind of comfort that could only come from cuddling close to the warm body of a safe person. Most often, you could only fall asleep beside each other. 

It had been that way since he had first been taken in by Doctor Caulder and he had come to you for comfort after he had woken up sorely missing his parents. On that first night, you had fallen asleep cradling him, and pretty much every night since then, the two of you shared a bed without question. 

The two of you were just intensely affectionate people, and you saw nothing wrong with expressing your friendship through those simple touches. It was just friendly, after all. 

The two of you always hugged each other tight and held hands while walking in public. There were many times when Gar put his arm around you or kissed you on the forehead, or times when you kissed him on the cheek. You weren’t shy about expressing your very platonic love for your best friend (at least, that’s what you had to tell yourself). 

The two of you weren’t romantically involved - you were just very close best friends. 

No matter what others thought when they looked at you, having those stereotypes in their minds about a guy and girl not being able to be ‘just friends’. Even if you wanted to play into that stereotype so badly with him - even if you wanted all of those people to be right. You would never risk ruining your friendship with him just because of some annoying crush. You were very good at keeping all of your stupid feelings trapped inside of your chest. 

Especially on days like this. When life got hardest, he needed you to be there more as a friend than anything else. And you needed him too. 

It was one of the reasons that he had gotten into bed with you that night, despite the fact that he scoffed at the very mention of trying to sleep. He wanted to be there for you. So you really weren’t surprised when you woke up and the bed was cold, void of his presence. Because of course, he couldn’t sleep. 

It had been a long, hectic, shitty day. 

After everything that had happened, you weren’t even really ‘sleeping’ yourself. 

You were drifting on the edge of consciousness, so exhausted from the day that your body was trying to forcibly knock you out. Between Kory and Dick screwing loudly on one side and Rachel and her birth mother chattering brightly and even crying on the other side, you had been having a very hard time falling asleep. That, and the horrors of the day still flashing through your mind. It made for a deadly cocktail that kept you awake. If not for the pure exhaustion of day’s events weighing you down - then you probably wouldn’t have closed your eyes at all. 

When you came back into a hard consciousness this time, though, you missed the feeling of Gar’s arm around your waist. You instantly missed the feeling of his pleasant warmth at your back - cradling you, making you feel safe. 

Before you even had your fully eyes open, you were out of bed yourself. It was almost an instinct, being so entirely drawn to him. You wandered out to the larger living space of the very expensive condo ‘safehouse’ with your socked feet on the cold floor. You clutched at your own arms under the loose sleeves of your oversized sleep shirt as goosebumps formed on your skin. 

You wondered in the back of your mind what the weather was like outside and if Dick had turned on the heat before going to bed. Then you had to wonder if adjusting the thermostat was even a concern in anyone’s mind after such a long day. It was probably only on your mind now that you were missing your human heater. 

You found Gar sitting on the couch. 

He had his oversized green headphones on, his phone screen providing the only real light in the room - aside from the everpresent glow of the city that leaked in from the tall glass panels that could be called walls in the ultra modern house. He was holding the screen inches away from his face as he slumped back against the unused couch. 

He was likely making an imprint of himself that would be the only ‘lived in’ essence of the overwhelming cold, expensive atmosphere of the place. From the sideways tilt of the screen and the way his thumbs were moving, you easily guessed that he was playing some kind of game. Something to distract his mind from the day’s events still playing there on repeat like a bad movie. 

He was wearing a pair of sweatpants that Dick had given him, dug out of a drawer of clothing that was apparently always kept in the place in case a need for it should come up. Just something else the ‘safehouse’ stocked, like food, medical supplies, and monetary currency from all different countries (because Bruce was rich and paranoid enough to be prepared for ‘any scenario’). 

Gar had paired the pants with one of your tee shirts. 

Something that was slightly big on him even with his natural muscle mass filling it out, bright tie-dye and worn-in cotton. It was purely you. Having the fabric draped over his body did make him feel at least somewhat at ease because it was soaked in your natural smell. It made him feel close to you even when he had gotten out of bed. 

He hadn’t wanted to bother you with his tossing and turning or the bright glowing light of his phone screen when he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep properly. 

He felt your presence in the room, but he didn’t look up until you crept further toward him, steering into his hazy peripheral view. He shrugged off the headphones as he looked up, locking eyes with you over the top of his phone. Your heart ached as you saw that expression so well illuminated by the sharp white light from the screen. He had the face of a kicked puppy, big wide eyes staring you down. Especially because he was making a clear effort not to let his mouth curl into a deep whimpering frown. 

You knew that the events of the day had been particularly hard on him. 

Of course, there was the obvious. The mental exhaustion and fear of being kidnapped and held hostage. The pulsating adrenaline of wondering if he was going to come out alive, on top of the worry he felt for you, Rachel, Dick, and Kory. The intense physical torture he had suffered at the hands of ‘scientists’ controlled by a doomsday cult. 

But on top of all of it, he had experienced something far worse. Something that you knew was far more taxing on his mind. 

He had killed someone for the first time. 

You feared that he was too gentle for killing. Even with the amazing power he wielded. 

Gar - someone who protested eating meat because he hated the idea of an animal being harmed for the sake of his nutrition. Gar - someone who always scooped up spiders and household pests to bring them outside because in his opinion, even the smallest of creatures deserve peace. 

You knew that he was someone who never planned on using his powers to truly harm anyone. 

But the moment the choice had been presented to him - to use his powers to harm someone, or to let you be harmed - it hadn’t really been a choice in his mind at all. 

You had been backed into a corner. You thought you had been clever, breaking out of the room they had locked you in with nothing more than an earring as a lockpick. But without a weapon and without a plan, Gar saw them threatening you and became blind with rage. 

Before he truly knew what was happening, he tasted flesh. 

A very large part of him didn’t regret it. He would choose your life over the life of someone unknown - someone who was going to hurt you - any day of the week. He knew that, if given the same choice, he would do it all over again. 

But there was another part inside of him that kept gnawing with guilt. Another part that said he was wrong, that said there should have been some other way. Something inside of him that said he was now just the villain in someone else’s story - that he wasn’t any better than the people who tried to hurt you in the first place. 

In a lot of ways, that voice said, he was worse than them. 

That voice made it difficult for him to sleep. 

“Can’t sleep?” You hummed out, approaching the couch to come and sit beside him. 

Gar did little more than shrug in response to the question. He didn’t want to admit the weakness aloud. He didn’t want to tell you that he was warring with guilt over something that the others - especially you - didn’t seem to struggle with. 

You both already knew the answer. It had been a hard day for him. Of course sleep was far beyond his grasp. 

In a silent, but comfortable exchange, Gar locked his phone and set it aside, entirely uncaring of saving his progress in the game while you sat down beside him. You slid onto the couch with your butt half nestled on top of his hip and your legs strung across his lap. He reached one arm in front of you, draping it over the thickness of your thighs. In a very natural move, he lazily wrapped his knuckles around your bare skin. 

Neither of you bothered to acknowledge your lack of pants - the fact that you were only wearing underwear with your oversized sleep shirt. You were so used to each other at this point that casual states of undress didn’t really need to be acknowledged. 

He drew mindless patterns into your skin with his thumb and slung his other arm over the back of the couch, bringing you into his lovely natural warmth. You laid your head onto his chest, easily cuddling into his side as you indulged in the familiarity. With his phone turned off, the darkness ruminating through the room was a silent cloak that enveloped the two of you. It made it much easier to fall into that routine of comfort that the two of you always embraced. 

You would explicitly deny that his touch on your bare skin felt like a deadly trail of needles erupting with fire - in the best way possible. Now was not the time for your lust to be breaking through. He was your best friend, and he was clearly in need of comfort. 

“I missed my human heater.” You mumbled out quietly, nuzzling into his side affectionately. 

He let out a hazy breath - some attempt at a laugh in response to your affectionate nickname for him. It was something he knew well about your friendship. You had a constantly chilly body, and he would always be there to warm you up with his blazen hot skin. Just another perk from his mutation - even when he got stuck out in the snow, he never ran cold. 

Now that you had acknowledged that wordless question (the reason you had gotten out of bed, why you couldn’t sleep), it was Gar’s turn to do the same. 

It hung in the air over his head and turned into a stony silence in the quiet, dark room that made each of his breaths seem particularly heavy beside your ear. It was a tension that built upon itself for a few moments. You weren’t going to ask, even though you had a feeling you virtually already knew the answer. You wondered if he was going to come out and admit it before you simply dragged him back to bed and forced him to stay there out of your own selfish need. 

But then he finally broke the silence by saying the words. 

“Whenever I close my eyes… I just keep seeing his face.” 

His words were tentative, a quiet whimper released into the room after being trapped in his chest for too long. Like electricity, shocking and impossible to avoid, you felt his pain surging through you. It caused your throat to clench painfully. You shifted slightly, turning so that you could get a better look at his face. Even in the dimness, the sad glassiness of his eyes practically glowed. 

“Gar,” 

You called out his name, your own voice giving away a depth of weakness that you held for him. Before you could help it, you were reaching up and cradling the side of his face with a cupped palm. Even though your hands were cool, the feeling was intensely comforting to him - just because it was you. He couldn’t help but lean into it, leaning on your hand as though it was the only thing in the world holding him up in that moment. When he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force some of that terrible guilt away, he accidentally forced the tears out and let them leak freely onto your hand. 

“Oh, baby.” You cooed out. 

You were entirely unsure why the nickname popped out. The sound of it on your own lips even surprised you. It was something you had never called him before. But he didn’t stop you, didn’t seem to find it unpleasant, so you continued. 

“You did what you had to do.” You told him with certainty. “You saved my life.” 

That was something infinitely valuable to him. But he wondered if somehow, he had diminished his own value in the process. 

More thick tears slipped down his face and you thumbed them away upon instinct. He swallowed thickly before he spoke again, though this time his words were heavily entrenched in those tears. 

“What if that man had a family?” Gar sniffled quietly. “What if-?” 

“Of course he had a family, Gar.” You quickly cut him off, knowing that his words were quickly spiraling into a deep, putrid guilt. 

That guilt was definitely something you felt the need to save him from. 

Upon hearing your words, he looked at you with sharp hurt in his eyes. Clearly, he had been expecting you to argue against his point, rather than confirm it. But you had a completely different line of thinking in mind.

“Everyone does.” You continued on. “Everyone has people who miss them. But you can’t waste your sympathy on some fictional family you’ve made up for the guy in your head. Having a family and being missed doesn’t give people the right to attack others and get away with it. The possibility of being missed doesn’t mean that people can go through life without seeing the consequences of their actions.” 

Gar let out a quiet huff. It was a sound of defeat - a signal saying that your words had punctured his surface, but hadn’t quite set in yet. 

When he didn’t say anything in reply, you continued. 

“You’re my family.” You told him firmly. 

You used the hold on his cheek to fully turn his head toward yours, and you gently angled into him so that your foreheads were pressed together. Gar closed his eyes and basked in the soothing feeling as you continued talking. 

“And I’m yours. And I really, truly don’t care about who lives or dies outside of us. I don’t care what happens as long as we’re safe. And we’re together.” 

You wanted to add on a verbal exception for the others - for Rachel, and Dick, and Kory, and likely Rachel’s mom just for her sake. An exception for the people who had quickly also become your family in the short time since you had met them. But you had a feeling that Gar knew about this exception in your mind without you having to voice it. 

Gar swallowed hard again, and this time you felt it bob harshly through him while pressed so closely together. You felt him let out a harsh breath before he spoke again. 

“I guess… I guess I’m just worried about what you think of me now.” He spoke the words so quietly, as if his fear even crept into voicing this. “I don’t want my favorite person in the world to be afraid of me. Or… to think I’m a bad person.” 

“I’m not afraid of you.” You quickly argued the point, a slight laughter on your lips at the mere thought of it - at the mention of being afraid of someone like him. 

Yes, he could turn into a giant green tiger, and yes, seeing him use that power to its full extent for the first time had been… jarring. But you would never be afraid of someone who cried during Pixar movies and said it was ‘inhumane’ to kill the animals in Minecraft for food. 

“I could never be afraid of you, Gar.” You easily added on. “You’re not a bad person. You’re such a good person. You’re so good. You’re such a good boy.” 

Those words struck a cord deep within his soul, and a whimper escaped his lips before he could stop it. 

“Say that again.” He told you, so pitifully that it almost sounded like begging. “Please?” 

“You’re such a good boy.” You repeated yourself, running your thumb along the soft skin of his cheek once again. “You’re a good boy, Gar.” 

In a moment, the air shifted. 

The magnetism between the two of you came to a fierce head, and the desperation, the vulnerability that the day’s events had brought forward morphed itself from pain and sadness into something the two of you knew well in the presence of each other - pure wanting. But this time, both of you were exhausted and completely lacking the energy to have any self control to hold it back. 

“Y/N-” 

He barely got out a whimper of your name before you pressed forward that extra inch, stealing his breath as you pressed your lips to his. It was a perfect moment - a beautiful culmination of everything you had ever wanted since meeting him. You definitely weren’t going to waste it. 

He moaned into the kiss and you echoed it back, gulping in breaths through your nose so you wouldn’t have to pull away from the soft cushion of his lips, not even for a moment. When he reached for a greedy grip on the back of your head, filthy and wanting, gently nibbling on your bottom lip - your instincts took over. You blindly swung a leg out, climbing over his waist, and he let out a sharp hiss at the feeling of your weight being planted in his lap. You were beautiful and whole as you sat down on top of him, a perfect reminder that this wasn’t just a dream as his cock quickly swelled to life under the heat of your core where it brushed against his borrowed pants. 

“Please-” He whimpered into your mouth, barely able to get the word out before you sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him moan out shakily in the most beautiful way. 

You planted your hands on his shoulders, easily taking control of the situation - not that he cared. He felt like he belonged under your controlling grip, under the pleasant weight of your body as his hard cock throbbed underneath your perfect weight. In a blur of heady kisses, swapping breath with the only man you had ever wanted like this, you got your underwear off and got his pants around his ankles. He shoved your shirt up over your breasts to possessively latch onto one of them with his mouth as you reached down and lined up his pulsing cock with your wet, wanting cunt. 

“Oh-” 

He let out another beautifully pathetic whimper as you sunk down onto him in one smooth movement. Your tight, wet heat quickly surrounded him and made his head spin. You felt so full that it almost choked you, but the hot pangs of electricity that shot up through your pussy easily spurred you on. You wasted no time before you began a brutal pace, bouncing on his lap as if he was nothing more than a toy for your own pleasure. The slap of skin on skin was irritably loud in the otherwise silent room, accompanied only by Gar’s harsh, animalistic pants and your choked-off moans as you struggled to comprehend the fullness of his nearly overwhelming cock. 

You both needed it. You needed the intense sting of pleasure to push out the worries of the day. 

With Gar’s hands gripping at your waist as if you might slip away at any moment and his face buried in your breasts, you almost didn’t hear the quiet murmur of his request when he managed to get the words out beyond that blinding pleasure. 

“Say it again,” He choked out past his harsh breaths. “Please!” 

It took your cock-drunk brain a moment to comprehend it, but when the gears fully churned, you instantly knew what he meant. 

“You’re a good boy,” 

You moaned out, reaching a hand up to pet through his hair. You took a fierce grip on those green locks, never once faltering in the harsh, unforgiving rhythm of your hips as you continued to piston yourself up and down on his cock. 

“You’re a good boy, Gar.” 

“Oh - fuck!” Gar grunted into your chest. 

At the sound of your voice saying this, declaring that he was a good boy - he abruptly came inside you.

[sareisnot]

Lord Gwyn: The Perfect Anticlimax

"Dark Souls is a hard game"

To anyone who's even a little bit familiar with the franchise, this is an obnoxiously obvious statement. The game has held the title of THE "hard game" for so long, that not only has the statement "X is the Dark Souls of Y" become a cliche, but so has every subsequent mocking subversion of that comparison. To even acknowledge its obviousness, as I did, is territory so well-worn, that I'm at risk of falling through, into the hackneyed void. But it's still worth mentioning. It's a well-earned reputation. Not only is Dark Souls, on a purely technical level, difficult to beat, but its entire identity is based around its difficulty, if the name of the "Prepare to Die" edition is any indication. Its world is a punishing one, seeking to beat the player character down at every single opportunity, until they can't stand to move another step forward, lest they get thwacked by a swinging axe, skewered by a demon, swept off a cliff, or obliterated by a dragon with teeth where its torso should be. It's a game that crushes you down, intending to make very clear just how easy your character can die, and, importantly, just how unimportant your death will be. To these bosses, these titans, these near-gods, you are nothing but an annoyance. Many of these fights feel like climactic struggles against an ancient, near-unbeatable foe, who existed long before you were born, and has a pretty solid chance of existing after you've expired. When you enter the arena of Ornstein and Smough, the music swells, and the two knights flex the skills that they're going to use to kill you over and over again. Many of the game's bosses, try to tap into that sense of scale, of importance, of grandiosity, each of their respective battles feeling like they could easily be the final one.

Then, after a long struggle, you make it to the end.

The game's final boss is Gwyn, a towering figure who's been hinted at throughout the game, through dialogue and item descriptions. Even if you didn't pay much attention to the little pieces of lore that the game hands you, you're able to put together that he's a pretty important guy: the mighty Lord of Cinder. The buildup to his fight hints at an even larger presence than the other bosses. You travel beneath Firelink Shrine, your home base for most of the game, where you find a massive expanse of land, cold and dark, a mysterious coliseum-like structure looming in the distance, which is impossibly large, even so far away. As you get closer, ghosts of old knights appear to attack you. They are easily dispatched, but still a shock. The structure towers over you, emphasizing just how much space is needed to house this mythologically strong figure, and the power that he holds. You enter, and find…….a hollowed old man. He's slightly taller than you, dressed in robes, and wielding a flaming greatsword, but he's nowhere near the scale of other bosses. However, he rushes at you all the same. When you begin the duel, it feels different from the others. There is no dramatic, sweeping music. All you get is a somber piano, like something that would play during a funeral, rather than a climactic duel. It feels like Gwyn's theme is actively pitying him. Granted, it's appropriate for the fight. All Gwyn can do is swing is flaming blade, which you can avoid with ease. There's been some easier bosses, but at least they didn't feel like they WANTED to die. Besides, this isn't the fragile Moonlight Butterfly, or the starting Asylum Demon, this is the final boss! He should be challenging you! Putting all the skills you've learned to the test! He's a fucking King! Why isn't he stronger? Fighting Gwyn after you've fought everyone else feels like walking into the home of an old, dilapidated hoarder, and kicking him while he's down. If you've been practicing your parrying, its like doing the same, except with cleats. He just seems………tired. As pathetically destitute as you were at the start. He might as well just keel over when you walk in the door. You beat him, naturally, and then the game just kinda….ends. If you got the ending I did, you just exit the area, look at all the nice snake friends you just made, and then roll credits. For all the work you've put into getting here, and all the struggles you've had to overcome, it feels like a severe anticlimax, like the game is playing a prank on you.

But if you know anything about the setting of Dark Souls, you'd know that there's really no other way this could end.

"The world of Dark Souls is dying"

This is a phrase that, while not as oft repeated as the above, is also pretty common knowledge at this point. Lodran, the game's setting, is a desolate place, long past its glory years. Once a powerful kingdom, teeming with life and magic, it is now in ruin, every citizen either dead, hollowed, or left to survive amongst the numerous deadly creatures that now roam the land. Everyone who's still around at the start of the game is either destined for misery, or already there (Unless you're Andre. He seems to be doing pretty well, all things considered). Somewhere around the time Lordran has reached the end of its life cycle, is when the player character enters the story, albeit with a rather unenviable role. Your job is to essentially be the world's janitor, cleaning out the world's former main characters, most of whom are insane, and all of whom are well past their useful days (or, if you have the DLC, you get to see Artorias right as he passes this point). Unfortunately, most of them would like to keep being alive, so they're going to make that difficult for you, by turning you into red mist until you stop trying to kill them. Even the grandiose presentation some of them have can't entirely hide the fact that this is a rather sad state of affairs for everyone, especially for those who haven't really done anything wrong (I nearly cried at having to kill Sif, and I will never fight Priscilla). Fortunately, some of these bastards contributed to the world's current bleakness, so killing them provides at least a twinge of catharsis, albeit one that will certainly be gone by the time you move onto the next bastard. The goal of this whole clean-up process, is to prepare the world to either continue with the age of fire with you as the catalyst, hopefully without those brutes who were clogging the power vacuums, or plunge the world into a new age of darkness, now that it has been cleansed of its polluting influences.

The only mean to either of these ends, is to kill Gwyn, the Lord of Cinder, former ruler of Lordran, and one of the primary reasons that this world is such a goddamn mess. To sum up his actions without getting too deep into the lore's intricacies; Gwyn knew that his kingdom was destined to fall, due to the world's oncoming transition from the age of fire into the age of shadow. This transition was represented by the dwindling light of the first flame, the lifeblood of the kingdom. After utterly failing to rekindle it, Gwyn entered a final gambit to prolong the life of his empire, linking himself with the first flame, but burning himself, and many of his knights, away in the process. This left him as a hollow, doomed to languish in his kiln, until another unfortunate soul took his place, linking the flame to further prolong the changeover. In doing this, Gwyn went against the natural laws of his world, which didn't react well to having its transitionary cycle interrupted. The world fell into a sharp decline, becoming a desolate, unhappy place, festering with demons and monsters (many of whom were the result of the last time someone tried to rekindle the first flame), making life hell for anyone unlucky enough to still be around afterwards. Gwyn wanted to prolong the inevitable, prevent the death of his kingdom, and continue its prosperity, so he sacrificed everything. His realm has persisted, but in a state of undeath, having stuck around long past its natural expiration date, just like him. Gwyn's story can be properly summarized as what happens when someone is psychotically obsessed with preserving their power, even when that preservation only serves to make the world a substantially worse place. Gwyn, in his hollow state, is a symbol of Lordran's persistent deterioration.

None of this information is directly handed to the player. Some bits are alluded to through snippets of dialogue and item descriptions, and the opening cutscene depicts one of the major inciting events of the narrative, but for the most part, it's a sprawling, multi-phased story, that is dolled out non-linearly, and piecemeal.

Now, with that context, let's cast a new lens on that fight…

After delving underneath Firelink Shrine for the final time, you come upon a desolate landscape, the Kiln of the First Flame looming in the distance. It's clearly well past its glory days, looking decrepit and sad. It is home of the world's lifeblood, but in name only. Now, it holds the last remnant of an age long past. As you approach, the spirits of old knights come to attack you, but they aren't much of a challenge, being just shadows of their former selves. They're victims, really; their loyalty has bound them to a sorry task, but they're in the way, and they weren't really living much of a life anyway. When you get closer to the kiln, it feels impossibly large, but also cold, and surprisingly dark, for something that's supposed to house an eternal flame. When you can see more details, it becomes clear just how long it's been falling into ruin. It feels abandoned, but you know its not. After all, you're here to end the life of its only resident. You enter, and find…. Lord Gwyn, a king who destroyed himself and cast the world into ruin, just to hold on to a formerly prosperous time. Lord Gwyn, whose refusal to let the fire die is the reason why you had to struggle through this entire journey. Lord Gwyn, whose death will mark the end of a era, no matter what you do afterwards. He charges at you, barely even conscious anymore, having been locked in this tomb for unknowable amounts of time. But he can't really fight you, at least not well. His strength isn't nearly what it used to be, now that he's a hollow, tired and worn-down, just like you were at the start. He's a pitiable figure, and the music knows. That sorrowful piano fades in, almost like something that would play at a funeral. But this isn't a funeral. This is a mercy killing. Spiritually, Gwyn died a long time ago. You're just putting his body to rest. When he's finally dispatched, it feels like an anticlimax. But of course it is. Gwyn is the embodiment of the world you've spent so much time exploring. Lordran has been denied a proper climax for so long, because he extended the story long past where it should have ended. He's been waiting to be killed for ages now. It feels only right that Gwyn be an easy, anticlimactic boss, because how could such a destitute figure be anything else?

"Dark Souls is a hard game for a reason"

The above statement is a simplified summation of why Dark Souls is one of my favorite games that I’ve ever played. It's set in a dying, hostile world, that's been brought to ruin by the violation of its natural laws. Thus, the game is insistent on making the player struggle at every turn, to make them feel just as downtrodden as the world they explore. Lord Gwyn is a example of just how thoroughly holding onto power can corrupt someone, leaving them as a husk, the scraps of their former glory existing only the in the memory of the people who are still forced to cope with the consequences of their selfish actions. Thus, his boss fight is an intentionally easy anticlimax, to emphasize just how far he's fallen, to the point that he can't even put up a good point. It's the themes of his character, perfectly melding with the gameplay. It's a perfect encapsulation of the game's best quality, how the experience of playing the game, reflects the themes and tone of its story. The reasons why the fight with Gwyn is the perfect anticlimax, and why Dark Souls is a near-perfect game, are one and the same.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Dozens of migrants and their supporters gathered in Montreal on Saturday to demand full regularization for all, and for political leaders to stop blaming asylum seekers for systemic problems.

“People have waited long enough and we really need a broad, comprehensive regularization program now without exceptions,” said Mostafa Henaway of the Immigrant Workers Centre.

Many on hand came to Canada as refugees. They fled difficult, sometimes deadly situations in their home countries to seek a better life.

Harjinder Singh said he arrived from India in 2019, after fleeing violence related to the Khalistan movement. He said he works at Dollarama, asks for no help from the government, but has not been able to get permanent residency. [...]

Without official status, they’re excluded from many public services.

“We’re happy to employ them in our day cares, but we don’t want them accessing our daycares,” decried Henaway.

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

[backmuscles21]

First To Kiss Her, Wins

Lo'ak x Reader x Tsireya

Summary: You and Lo'ak mated and went to the Metkayina people with his family. There you saw the most beautiful girl, and both of you agreed and knew you needed to have her, together.

I mostly just wanted the reader to scream at Ao'nung that she's fucking his sister.

Then, of course, I needed some good content for Lo'ak and Tsireya fucking the reader.

Also, they're aged up.

Warnings: smut, bisexual reader, semi-public sex

You and Lo'ak have been mated for two years now, you and him have been best friends since birth. Your parents were friends with his parents and being born around the same time made you the perfect match. Your parents and his pretty much forced the mating upon you two, not that either of you minded, you expect as much. You and Lo'ak got along well, spending the rest of your lives together wasn’t a bad thing.

Once you both got older, your attraction changed from being best friends to best friends and something else. That something else grew and you two were fucking before your parents even really started grooming you into mating with each other. You loved each other a lot and your sex life was mind-boggling but there was something else.

Lo’ak was a horny man, everyone knew that, he liked to look and it didn’t really bother you. It didn’t bother you mostly because you were staring along with him, he would specifically point out females to you. So, really, you both liked to look and you both got off on the idea of having another female join you two. However, no one here seemed to fit, no one here seemed like they’d be into it or like both of you enough.

So, you just held off and pushed that dream down, deep deep down.

Then your happy mundane life changed and you were running off with your mate’s family. You knew you’d miss your family but your mate mattered more to you, you couldn’t stand to be away from him. You all flew on your ikrans to the shores of the Metkaiyna people, there you would seek refuge.

You remember what it was like being held at gunpoint by those military men in their false bodies. You remember looking at Lo’ak and studying his face like it was the last time you’d ever see him. You started at his eyes, his braids, his hands, his mouth, his nose, his ears, his jawline, every part of his head you were memorizing so when you were with Eywa you’d see him. But you ended up all getting away unscathed, except for Spider, he was gone, he was taken by them. You were just happy that you were safe and your mate was too.

You landed on the shores and you all got off your ikrans, you stood next to Lo’ak and Neteyam. You watched the people gather around you; you watched them come up from the ocean to stand around your family.

Out of the water came this gorgeous girl, water was dripping down her body as she walked towards you guys. Her hair was long and flowing also dripping water onto her teal skin, the braids on her head led you to her striking eyes. They were so big and kind and so blue, she had the cutest face, a face you’d love to see contort in pleasure. Your finger tapped Lo’ak’s thigh to get his attention, he looked down at you at first, he wondered if you were scared and needed comfort.

“Are you okay?” Lo’ak whispered to you.

“Two o’clock. Pretty girl,” you whispered back. You'd picked up the two o’clock part from their father when you’d watch the boys train. You didn’t understand it at first until you joined in on their training and Jake taught it to you.

Lo’ak’s eyes searched for the girl, he saw her right off to his right. “With the pretty eyes?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn, she is gorgeous.”

“Told you,” you smiled back.

Your whispering stopped as the chief of the tribe started to speak to your father-in-law.

You were granted asylum from the Metkaiyna people, you were allowed to stay. You got brought to your mauri, you’d be staying in one altogether, not that it bothered you. Best thing you learned, to which you smirked at Lo’ak once you were told, Tsireya, the pretty girl would be teaching you. Turns out she’s the daughter of the chief, she and her brother, the dick head, would be teaching you the ways of the water.

Sitting with the Metkayina kids was nice, it was nice to meet some new people with new thoughts. You went swimming the following morning, jumping into the cool water was nice. You jumped in with Tsireya but she and her siblings were so much faster than you and your family. Watching her swim was graceful, she swam so beautifully, it made you want her more.

After that day, you would talk with Lo’ak every day about how much you liked to watch her and how pretty she was.

“Aren’t I supposed to be your mate?”

“Yeah, but she’s just so pretty. I wanna put my tongue on her throat.”

Lo’ak laughed, “you are worse than me.”

“You made me like this, don’t hate me 'cause you ain’t me.”

“Didn’t think I’d like corrupting someone, but I like that I made you hornier than me.”

“What about corrupting Tsireya? Eywa, I would love to just have my hands on her.”

“Well, why don’t we start getting her warmed up? First to kiss her wins.”

“Are you proposing a bet, Lo’ak?”

“Maybe… So, you in?”

“Obviously. She’s mine first.”

“In your dreams,” Lo’ak pushed you onto your back.

He leaned over you and rested his hands on either side of your head, he kissed you with passion.

“Awe, is talking about Tsireya making you hard, yawne?”

“You fucking know it. Eywa, I wish she was here. I’d love to see her on your pretty face.”

You whimpered.

“Is me talking about Tsireya making you wet, tìyawn?”

“Shut up, you made your point.”

Lo’ak smirked as he kissed down your stomach.

You and him fucked on the secluded rocks by the reef, it was nice, you hadn’t had time to be intimate in a while. Not to mention, the idea of Tsireya made you both so much hornier that it was the best you had in some time.

The next day, the game was on, and you were dead set on getting to Tsireya first.

You were sat next to her as you were practicing breathing techniques, she was touching Lo’ak’s stomach. You could tell that he was nervous as she placed her hand gently on his abdomen, it made you both smile and made you angry that he was coming out on top.

You went swimming a little while after and as you did you swam really close to her, you wanted to be right next to her. You held her hand as you swam, you would swim up to her as she swam in place, your hands would rest on her hips as you smiled at her. You knew she was smiling but you could tell she felt a little off, you saw it on her face and in her smile.

You three sat on the shore, eclipse was coming, you and Lo’ak sat on either side of Tsireya. The eclipse was always so pretty, even prettier when it refracted on the water. Your head rested on Tsireya’s shoulder; you had your hand in hers as you played with her fingers. Lo’ak had his arm around her and played with your hair well also wrapping one of Tsireya’s curls around his finger as he stared at her beautiful features.

“Can I ask you guys something?”

“What is it Tsireya?” you asked.

“You guys are mated right?”

“Yes, why do you ask?” Lo’ak replied.

“Forgive me if this is forward, but I feel as though you guys are trying to court me. Your touches have been very – intimate.”

She looked so nervous; she looked embarrassed but not necessarily against the touches.

“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. Sometimes we get a little carried away. If you don’t like it, we can stop,” you said lifting your head up and facing her.

“I’m not against it, I liked it actually. I just felt bad, you guys are mated. I shouldn’t be –“

You cut her off by pressing a small quick kiss to her lips, she smiled as you pulled away.

“We have been trying to get you to join us, from the moment we met you we wanted you. Just because we are mated already doesn’t mean we can’t add you in,” Lo’ak said brushing some hair off her shoulder and kissing it.

“Are you guys serious? You wouldn’t get upset with me if I wanted in?”

“Never, we need you so badly. You’re all we ever think about,” you whined against her ear.'

Her hand moved to your thigh and she gripped at it lightly, she liked how things were going, she was into both of you.

This time you kissed her longer and a little harder, your hands rested on her cheeks and slowly moved into her hair. Lo’ak was kissing at her neck and chest, you slowly opened your mouth and swiped your tongue on her lips. She opened up her lips from the surprise contact of your tongue and you slipped it in, you curled it against the roof of her mouth. You felt her sharp fangs as you ran your tongue over hers, when you pulled back, she was panting.

“I love that so much.”

“Good, because I do it a lot apparently. That’s what Lo’ak says,” you smiled at her.

“Wait till she starts biting your lip and sucking on it, I always love that,” Lo’ak smirked.

Tsireya shuttered as Lo’ak kissed her neck, “can we stop here today? This is the furthest I’ve ever gone with someone and I’m a little overwhelmed. I want more just not right now.”

“Of course, syulang. You take your time. We won’t rush you,” Lo’ak said kissing her cheek.

“Thank you.”

“You know where to find us when you’re ready. Or you can just let it happen on random nights we are together, like tonight,” you said as you kissed her head and stood up.

Lo’ak offered her his hand and helped her up, the three of you walked back to where the homes were. It was late, tomorrow was a new day, all you knew was that you felt ecstatic, you had your girl.

The next day consisted of some lessons then some downtime as Tsireya and Ao’nung had some chores to do. You were with Lo’ak and his brother, you were just hanging out and talking when you saw Ao’nung and his friends. Kiri was in the water; he was talking to her. When you and Lo’ak heard the word freak you and him stormed over there and Neteyam had no choice but to follow.

Ao’nung was throwing insult after insult at you guys, saying you were all weak and slow and freaks.

“Everyone here thinks you guys are freaks. No one wants you here, you’re so weird.”

“Oh yeah,” you started, you were ready to defend your and your family’s honour. Lo’ak and Neteyam tried to reel you in, they knew you liked to get into people's faces and be a little snotty from time to time. Really it was justified here, at least that’s how you felt. “That’s not what your sister said last night when I had my tongue down her throat.”

That shocked everyone, everyone was taken aback by what you just said, even Lo’ak and he witnessed it.

“As if. My sister wouldn’t want to be with the likes of you guys.”

“Then why was she so turned on by my hands on her?”

He looked lost, like he was grasping at straws, “aren’t you two mated anyways? Why would you be going after someone else?”

“He kissed her too.”

Now that really had people taken aback, it only just occurred to you that Tsireya may not have wanted you to start shouting about what transpired last night.

“You guys really are freaks,” Ao’nung said as he smirked and laughed with his friends.

Neteyam took Kiri and you went to walk off before Lo’ak punched the kid in the face, you had to desperately hold back a shout of ‘oh yeah.’ You didn’t want to encourage him to beat this boy up, but Ao’nung was asking for it. If he didn’t want to get punched then he shouldn’t have been calling people freaks, but you knew this was going to go back when the adults found out, namely his father.

You and Neteyam joined in on the fight, mainly just to get Lo’ak away, you and Neteyam hit some of his friends before you all stopped.

Jake was yelling at his boys, you stood off to the side, you knew Jake would be yelling at you too. You knew he expected better of you, he only ever knew you as the perfect golden child. Having never been in trouble in the forest and always doing as asked, which was true but as you and Lo’ak got older and he got more rebellious, you just sort of followed.

The next day when you were with Tsireya, she was teaching you more breathing and their finger talk. Lo’ak was out with Ao’nung, his father told him to apologize, you told him to be careful and to not trust the kid. You and Tsireya were heavily flirting and to be honest, you wanted to get her somewhere secluded to kiss her again. You could tell she wanted that too, but she held off, she thought Lo’ak should be here as it was only the second time doing this.

You knew Lo’ak would be cool with it, as long as it wasn’t sex, he didn’t care. You and her spent the entire day together, it felt like one of your dates with Lo’ak. You and her went swimming all over the reef and on top of that she showed you a few of her favourite spots, which you couldn’t wait to whisk her into some of the gorgeous caves she showed you with Lo’ak.

Spending all day with her helped keep your mind off the fact that Lo’ak hasn’t been around in hours, he was supposed to meet up with you and Tsireya. It was dark out now and you her, were slightly concerned but you figured his dad held him up with something. After some time you and she went looking for him, you went to so many different places. You knew if he was upset, he’d still come and find you, you were his rock so to speak.

Then you heard the horn sound, you looked at Tsireya for the meaning, she said it was a warning call. You watched numerous people gather on the shore and ready their mounts to head out. You ran over to where you saw Neteyam and Ao’nung with Jake and Neytiri, you felt your heart drop.

What happened? Did this have anything to do with Lo’ak?

You got there before Tsireya; she was lagging behind you slightly.

“Jake? What’s happening?”

Jake sighed like he didn’t want to answer, “Lo’ak is missing. Ao’nung brought him out passed the reef.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and your heart sunk further, you felt nauseous, what if he was dead? After your brain processed the information, your eyes went from wide open pools to tiny slits as you glared daggers at Ao’nung who was being held by Neteyam.

“You mother fucker,” you went to lunge at Ao’nung.

Neteyam moved back a little with Ao’nung and Tsireya grabbed your arms to pull you back into her.

“Stop, this isn’t the time,” Tsireya said as she tried desperately to hold you back.

She was weak compared to you, you were seeing red currently, and you were ready to break her arms to scissor-kick Ao’nung.

Then Lo’ak was coming to the shore, you felt your body relax, and your shoulders hurt from how tight you held them up. You ran up to him as he was on the solid ground of the walkways, you hugged him tightly, your body missing him more than ever.

“Ao’nung didn’t do it, it was my choice.”

You went to interrupt, Lo’ak would never but Tsireya grabbed your hand and that made you shut your mouth. Lo’ak walked off and you went after him while still holding Tsireya’s hand.

“Are you okay? Why would you say that? Ao’nung totally should’ve gotten in trouble.”

“It’s not worth it.”

“Lo’ak, what happened out there? I was so fucking worried.”

“Nothing.”

“Lo’ak, you’re being distant. We’ve been friends forever; don’t think you can hide shit from me. What happened?”

“I made a friend.”

“Who?”

“Payakan.”

“The outcast,” Tsireya mumbled.

“Who?” You asked her.

“The outcast tulcan.”

“That’s why you’re being distant. You made a friend with another outcast.”

Tsireya hit your arm, “ow, what? Me and him have always been alienated from our families that’s why we were best friends. We became friends because no one else wanted to be our friends. We are good people with thoughts and feelings but because Lo’ak is more human than other Na’vi and I’d rather fuck a girl, we were deemed to not be good enough.”

Tsireya hugged you for your confession, she knew that it must be been hard to deal with that growing up. She was very empathetic; she didn’t like that you both had to deal with that.

“How did you end up mating then?” Tsireya asked.

“Our parents were friends and they liked the idea of us together. Better than leaving us forever alone so our parents kept bringing up the idea of mating. We were best friends at that point so we figured why not. Plus, at that point, we were already fucking on the regular so we figured why not,” Lo’ak explained.

“But I thought you’re into girls?” Tsireya looked at you.

“I like girls and boys. I always liked the idea of being with a girl more but Lo’ak was the first guy I slept with and after experiencing that I don’t think I’d want a different guy. We always talked about bringing another girl in but there was no one we liked enough, until you.”

Tsireya looked down as she blushed, “can we just leave for a bit? I wanna feel both of you.”

“Of course, yawne,” Lo’ak said as he grabbed her hand as well and they walked over to the nearby cave she loved.

Once you three got into the cave, Tsireya kissed Lo’ak first. Your hands went up her back and you moved some of her hair away to kiss at her neck and back. She had such a gorgeous teal body; it was so smooth and sleek despite the salt water she was always in.

As you pulled away from her body, Lo’ak flipped their bodies around so he had her pressed up against the cave wall, you moved back in behind him. Your hands came from behind him to wrap around his torso, then your hands slid down his muscular chest. Your hands stopped at the top of his loin cloth, your thumbs catching the band around his waist. You started to palm him through his loin cloth, you could hear him moaning into the kiss he was sharing with Tsireya.

“I’m going to suck you off, yawne,” you whispered into Lo’ak’s ear, just enough for Tsireya to also hear.

You pulled him off Tsireya, “just wait till you see this,” you smiled up at her as you untied Lo’ak’s loin cloth.

His back was against the rocks and you pulled down his loin cloth, you grabbed onto his cock and started to stroke it in your hand. Once your mouth wrapped around the tip, Lo’ak’s hand threaded into your hair. You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked on his dick, you knew it was Lo’ak’s favourite to be praised like this. You could feel that he was close, he was pulsing on your tongue, then you heard Tsireya and your eyes flicked to your left to see her watching so intently.

“You wanna try?” You asked her as you pulled off for a moment.

She nodded frantically.

You pulled off again, your hand held the base of his cock and brought Tsireya close to you. “Okay, so start by just kissing the tip, he loves that.”

And that she did, her soft and small lips touched his tip, Lo’ak’s hand then went to grip her hair.

“Good, now stick your tongue out and lick it a little then maybe run your tongue up from where my fingers are to the tip.”

She was good at following directions, that you could tell, she was a fast learner too, Lo’ak had his eyes slammed shut.

“Now, try taking it into your mouth a little. Don’t go further than you're comfortable. Take in as much as you can or want.”

She took him into her mouth, she got a little more than halfway.

“Now close your lips around him and pull back then push back. Don’t let the tip leave your mouth. Also, be careful with your teeth.”

She went to town, that girl was a fast learner, she was doing such a good job and you praised her as such. You went to suck on Lo’ak’s balls a little and he was moaning and whimpering from the works of you two.

“He’s close. He will come very shortly. You don’t have to let him cum in your mouth if that’s too much. If you do want that then you don’t have to swallow.”

She didn’t stop and she continued at a faster pace, she wanted it all, if you could do it then she could. Lo’ak came thrusting his hips forward, shoving his cock further down her throat. It helped her swallow everything he was giving her, she pulled back with a smile.

“Such a good job, syulang. For your first-time sucking dick, you had him whimpering and that is what we want. In fact, you did so well, I think you deserve a reward,” you said with a smile as your face got closer to hers.

“A reward?” She was bashful again.

“Yes, of course.”

You gently laid her back, you took her loin cloth off, “let me know if it gets to be too much.”

She nodded.

Your mouth attached to her clit and instantly it had her crying out and arching her back, this was unlike she has ever felt before. As you went to town eating out her pussy, Lo’ak decided to move her chest covering and attach his mouth to her nipple. His hand went to play with the other one as she cried out of her body receiving so much stimulation that her body couldn’t stop squirming.

“Let her ride your face,” Lo’ak said.

You pulled away briefly, “why you wanna fuck me?”

“Yes.”

Lo’ak was so blunt, that’s how you knew he was desperate. You pulled off her briefly again, enough to lay back and take with you. You had her sitting on your chest as you looked up at her.

“I’m going to do what I was doing before, but now you’ll be sitting up. Don’t be afraid to grind down onto me,” you smirked at her.

You hoisted her up and rested her on your face and your tongue went back to work. Lo’ak wasted no time in getting your loin cloth off, his fingers went to your clit and started to finger you a little before slowly pushing inside. You heard him hiss as he bottomed out, your hands on Tsireya’s hips squeezed hearing Lo’ak trying to get used to how tight you are. Your hands kneaded the flesh of her hips and occasionally her butt, Lo’ak would kiss at her back, shoulders, neck, whatever he could get his lips on.

Lo’ak started to thrust faster into you, your grip on her hips would just get tighter as you got closer. You could feel her rocking her hips back and forth, she was going to cum and she knew it too or at least her body did. You sucked harder on her clit, you wanted to make her cum, you wanted it now, you wanted to taste it. She leaned forward and gripped the solid ground; her whimpers were breathier and whinier. She came, you licked through her folds trying to gather as much of it as possible.

Lo’ak went even faster, he wanted was determined to get you to cum along with himself. He just kept going faster and faster, even more when Tsireya got off you and watched Lo’ak destroy you. He now had full access to push your legs up and reach a new angle, your hands reached out. One gripped his bicep and the other went to her thigh, your head was thrown back as your body rocked into his.

You came first and Lo’ak came right after, his tired and sweaty forehead rested on yours.

“How was that,” you turned to look at Tsireya.

“Amazing. I want to do it again. Just not now I’m tired.”

You chuckled, “welcome to the club,” you pulled her into yours and Lo’ak’s bodies and you all laid there to rest for a while before inevitably you’d have to head back.

[moonpetrichors-blog]

hi lovey 🫶 i was thinking about another lo’ak idea for a request and this is what i came up with! so as we know, the sully family had to learn sign language while living with the metkayina clan.. so i was thinking the reader would be metkayina and would take it upon themself to help teach them (at this time the sully’s know certain phrases) and lo’ak is drawn to the reader and asks for private lessons but in actuality he’s pretty good with signing so the reader is like “ur already pretty good but ig so 🤷” and in that lesson lo’ak kind of makes his feelings clear and asks to learn how to say something like “you’re ethereal” and once he learns, he signs it to the reader? idk i just love how you write lo’ak so i just thought of anything really 🤭

🦕

Teach Me

Tags: Lo'ak x Metkayina!Reader, Oneshot, Fem!Reader, Fluff, Private Tutor, Crush Blush, They’re Both Oblivious, Shy Reader

Warnings: None

You caught the eye of Jake Sully’s second son, and he has made it a point to try and woo you. When you try and teach his family the way your clan communicates underwater, he asks for private lessons, knowing full well he has already excelled in sign language far beyond his siblings. A few more lessons couldn’t hurt, right?

Your requests are always such a delight to see :) Lo’ak tryna finesse the reader into private tutoring sessions just to spend time with them is such a Lo’ak thing to do lol ALSO YOU’LL NOTICE THAT IVE TAKEN A LIKING TO ADDING A BONUS TO THESE

* ˚ ✦ 1453 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [05/01/23] ❞

Ever since the Sully family arrived at your doorstep seeking asylum, your father, Tonowari, had entrusted you with teaching the children your ways so that they were not entirely useless.

You did not appear to mind. When you locked eyes with Toruk Makto's youngest son, he captivated you. He was considerably different from your people, with golden eyes, darker skin, and even being a half dream walker! It was alluring, even if your brother didn't find Lo'ak's unique traits as attractive as you did.

You brushed your burgeoning feelings aside so you could do an excellent job of showing him your ways of life. Tsireya, your sister, had previously taught the Sullys about breathing techniques and diving, but you still stepped in whenever you could. You would've been more involved in the lessons if you weren't so timid around Lo'ak.

He figured you didn't like him as much as he liked you, which stung a little. However, that did not deter him. No, he was determined to get your love! (Little did he know.)

During one of your lessons with Tsireya and the Sullys, you were discussing how you employed sign language to communicate underwater. Of course, you were as far away from Lo'ak as possible to avoid becoming a blundering fool.

The Sullys certainly understood a few basic phrases, but you thought it would be incredibly beneficial in the long run if they knew it fluently because it could save their lives one day. You never know what sea creature you'll have to converse with!

By the end of the lesson, you were eager to get out of the water and rush home so you wouldn't have to interact with Lo'ak; you couldn't stop stuttering whenever you were near him! Eywa, on the other hand, had other plans for you.

Lo'ak softly tapped on your shoulder before you could depart, and you could already feel the tips of your ears burn from the contact. Lo'ak didn't notice, but that didn't matter because he was plotting something. One that he believed was brilliant.

He smiled at you. God, his smile was lethal. “Can I get more lessons with you? I need to work on my sign language a bit more.”

He scratched the nape of his neck shyly, clearly hoping for you to say yes.

You sighed, unable to say no when it’s him. “Okay, sure. We can do some private lessons aside from the main ones.”

Lo'ak cheered inside his head. What you didn't know was that he was already pretty proficient in sign language, and that his request for additional lessons was only a pretext to spend more time with you. Others called that manipulation, he called it chasing his dreams.

...

It was difficult for you to concentrate on teaching him at first. He was so attentive to everything you said that it made you feel so self-conscious! You'd take notice to the way he looked with his hair down, or how mesmerizing his eyes were every time you tried to teach him new terms. You could lose yourself in them for hours.

Snap out of it!

You'd think he was aware of the influence he had on you, because every time you'd lose concentration from gazing at him, he'd simply smile. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you swore his cheeks reddened when you stared at him. What was he blushing about? He's the one who makes direct eye contact with you every time you speak!

...

You felt foolish. You were foolish.

After a few days, you realised Lo'ak had duped you into thinking he needed the extra support. In your opinion, his acting skills when feigning to not understand what a phrase meant were atrocious. When you confronted him with the fact that he was already pretty fluent, he sulked.

“I’m still not sure if I’m doing it right, though. Just a few more lessons, pleaase?”

He was going to be the death of you. “You’re already pretty good, but I guess it won’t hurt to help build your confidence more.”

Lo’ak grinned, but you could feel your palms getting sweaty at even the mere thought of having prolonged interactions with him.

...

Here you were, sitting on the beach with Lo’ak as he manipulated you into weeks worth of lessons with his stupidly gorgeous puppy dog eyes. Again.

You improved your interactions with him, this time concealing the effect he had on you. You shook your head, ignoring those wandering thoughts and concentrated on his lesson.

“Okay, show me something you’ve learned.”

Lo’ak beamed, and signed with his hands, “Y/N, I want you.”

Okay, you lied. You certainly did not grasp the capacity to conceal his effect on you. He had this smug look on his face once you registered what he had signed, while you fanned your heated cheeks, claiming it was simply the weather. You concluded he was having difficulty asking for something since 'I want you' sounded a little broken.

Yeah, that’s all there is to it.

You laughed nervously. “You definitely still need to work on your sign language. You didn’t even finish your phrase!”

Lo'ak grumbled. From your perspective , it appeared that he did so because he did not accurately sign what he meant to express. But really, Lo'ak was particularly annoyed because you didn't pick up on his blatant hint.

He recollected himself. “Okay, how about this. How do I say you’re ethereal?”

Compliments. That’s a new one. Nonetheless, you showed him how to sign it.

“You’re ethereal is a little bit hard though, so you’d need a bit of practice with the hand movements for that.”

Lo’ak nodded, very focused on the motions of your fingers.

...

You were disappointed to realise that this was your final private lesson with Lo'ak. You were standing near his marui, too indolent to enter the water. Lo'ak had finally mastered sign language, and you were overjoyed to know you were the reason for it. You requested him to show you some phrases right before you concluded your lesson to ensure he sounded like a true Metkayina.

“Okay. What’s something you’re confident you can say?”

Lo’ak was incredibly anxious. With shaky hands, he signed, “you’re ethereal, and I want you to be mine.”

If Eywa could read your thoughts, you wished she’d take a shovel and beat you six feet beneath the sand. Your cheeks were impossibly dark, and you knew what Lo’ak signed couldn’t have been a mistake. Not with those difficult hand movements.

Curse you for being so stupid. You chastised yourself in your mind for honestly thinking his sign language was broken weeks prior. His skills were perfect, you were just too oblivious to realize that he was saying that he wanted you!

Lo'ak sat there patiently, gazing at your immobilised form. His self-assurance was eroding as you sat there, unresponsive. You coughed sheepishly, your cheeks still blazing, before he could retract his statement.

“You’re ethereal too.”

He felt his entire body heat up. He was not expecting you to sign it back, and now you were both sitting there like startled morons, looking like you had been baking in the heat for hours. You were neither smooth nor subtle in your flirting.

“So you don’t hate me?”

That shook you out of your daze. “What?”

“It’s just that, before these lessons you avoided me all the time. I thought you didn’t like me back.”

Your jaw was on the floor. All shyness disappearing, you practically bellowing across the beach. “Since when? I’ve liked you for weeks!”

“Oh.”

Ensue silence.

Lo'ak had to conceal his visage due to the blush on his cheeks. He could try to hide his face from you, but he couldn't prevent his tail from swishing excitedly. You giggled at his reaction, but the embarrassment of how direct you were hit you a moment later.

You two exchanged glances before laughing at each other's expressions. Lo'ak inched closer to you, intending to plant a soft kiss against your heated cheeks.

You immediately swiveled your head to see what he was doing, and he kissed you on the lips by accident. Lo'ak felt like he was going to burst into flames, not intending to do that.

It was now your turn to bury your face in your palms, your heart practically bursting out of your chest. You couldn't believe what had just transpired!

Ah, young love.

Bonus!

“No. Fucking. Way.”

Jake screamed for his wife to come over. Neytiri ran quickly, abandoning her unfinished basket. Something terrible must’ve happened!

“What’s wrong?”

Jake wiped a tear away, dropping his binoculars. “Our son has finally become a man.”

Neytiri threw her basket at his head.

[in-my-feels-probably]

I just realised I forgot to send a request!! silly sausage hours fr ✌🏻😔

anywho! if it is at all interesting to you, I was wondering if you’d like to write a Protective!Jon x Short!S/O based piece?? can be whatever you want, a blurb, headcannon, imagine - whatever idea comes to you based on this very vague prompt cuz I want to give you all the creative wiggle room to do what you want to do!!

could be something about the Short!S/O getting hurt defending Jon when someone talks shit about him or Jon sees/finds out his S/O was being harassed/had been touched without consent in any way and he sees RED, could be anything at all!! just some real good protective Jon Snow content pretty please 🥺💗

but, all the same, if this idea doesnt grab you then please do not feel at all pressured in writing it, it’s completely up to you!! no hard feelings 🤗

I wish you the most wonderful rest of your day!! ♡

That’s My Girl

Request: if it is at all interesting to you, I was wondering if you’d like to write a Protective!Jon x Short!S/O based piece?? can be whatever you want, a blurb, headcannon, imagine - whatever idea comes to you based on this very vague prompt cuz I want to give you all the creative wiggle room to do what you want to do!! could be something about the Short!S/O getting hurt defending Jon when someone talks shit about him or Jon sees/finds out his S/O was being harassed/had been touched without consent in any way and he sees RED, could be anything at all!! just some real good protective Jon Snow content pretty please

Hi! Thank you for the request, I'm sorry for the long wait. This is my first time writing for Jon! I’m hoping this is what you were looking for, but if not. Just let me know and I'd be able to fix it or write you something else. 

I love Jon, I'm happy to write for him. To make sense of the story, the reader is technically a Bolton, and a sister to Ramsey. I set this around season 5-6. I hope you enjoy it!

(Warnings: swearing, violence, a fight, mentions of blood and wounds, slight sexual harassment, gross men, let me know if i missed anything)

—

The Wall was not a good place for a woman. That fact, you knew all too well. 

Women weren’t allowed at the wall, regardless of station or reason. This was a fact your family knew, and a fact they ignored. 

You were born to a handmaiden, fathered by Roose Bolton. When you entered the early stages of being a woman, Lord Bolton legitimized you, and sent you to Winterfell to learn the ways of being a Lady. He figured you may be useful to him one day, someone he could marry off for an advantage. 

Winterfell was where you met Jon Snow. He had always liked you. While you were technically a Bolton, you lived more than half of your life as a Snow. You were no longer legally a bastard, but you felt like one anyway. 

Jon knew the feeling, and you became quite close throughout your years, before he left for the Wall and the rest of the Starks left as well.

You lived through the Greyjoy Rebellion, when Theon came and took Winterfell. You received word from your father, and were asked to stay anyways. After Robb’s death, the Bolton’s officially took over the castle. 

Despite your father being named Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, he was no family to you. You’d never see him as such. Instead, the Northern folk who had lived in the city since the reign of the Starks took care of you, always there to be a friend if you needed them. 

They were your true family. Them, and the Starks, although you hadn’t seen any of them in years. Most of them were dead.

When Lord Bolton died and his position was passed to the newly legitimized Ramsay Bolton, the families that had helped you sent you away for your own safety. 

With you being the last legitimate Bolton, other than Ramsey, you challenged the claim to the North, despite being a woman. The North liked you more, and Ramsay was afraid they’d rebel if he allowed you to live. 

You went to the Wall, seeking asylum. 

You reconnected with Jon, who had recently been named Lord Commander. He allowed you to stay, despite the rules he was meant to follow.

But if he had allowed the Wildlings passage, he could allow you to stay as well. 

To appease the men, you worked as a stewardess, making up for being another mouth to feed and for filling a bed in the single room. The only other empty single room, next to the Lord Commander’s suite. 

It got easier as the weeks passed, and you slipped into a routine that was comfortable enough. 

Sometimes, the men were a little rough with you. It was if they forgot you were a woman, not remembering to be gentler with you. 

Others never forgot you were a woman, keeping their eyes on you at all times. 

This occurred on opposite ends of the spectrum, one end containing men like Jon, Edd, and Sam, and the other containing men like Ser Allister, who hated you being there, as well as the men who wouldn’t hesitate to do you harm. 

You knew those who followed Jon would keep an eye on you, never allowing true harm to come your way, but you still kept your guard up most of the time. In between doing your duties, you trained with the men, learning combat skills. 

It reminded you of the times in Winterfell as children, when Jon would sneak you out of lessons with the Septa to train with him. 

You were quite short, compared to the women of your age. Jon was on the shorter side too, in comparison to other men, but he could hold his own well enough. He wanted you to be able to do the same, so he wouldn’t have to worry as much about your safety.

You had gotten quite good at it, especially with the refresher at the Wall, and you were confident enough that you could handle yourself. 

That didn’t mean you necessarily wanted to. If you could avoid it, you’d try and keep to yourself for most of the day, ignoring the men you didn’t like. But some of them made it quite hard on you. 

“Lady Snow,” Ser Alliser taunted, coming into the kitchen where you were scrubbing pots. “Where’s your Commander? Figured he would’ve sent one of his watchdogs to come guard you, considering he isn’t here to do it himself.”

“He’s just as much your Commander as he is mine,” you replied, not looking up to dignify him with a reaction. 

“That may be,” he said, taking a step towards you. He stopped in his tracks when he heard a growl coming from behind you, and saw a white beast stepping out from behind your legs. 

“You’re right, My Lord,” you said, leaning over to scratch behind Ghost’s ears. “Jon did leave me unattended. Although, I expect a direwolf is as good of a watchdog as any man here. Would you like to test that theory? Come closer, then.”

Ghost snarled at Ser Alliser, making him take a step back. He glared at you, retreating to the door. 

“You don’t belong here, Snow. You’ll come to see that soon.”

“Thank you for that,” you called, returning back to your work. “You can piss off now.”

—

Later that day, much to your annoyance, another group of some of the men tried your patience again. 

It was before dinner, when you had just finished up with your duties for the day. You had just brought Ghost his dinner, and were returning to the hall to eat, when three men cornered you in the courtyard. 

“What do you want?” You asked, unimpressed.

“We want you to go,” one replied, making you roll your eyes. 

The one closest to you nodded in agreement. “We didn’t vote for Jon to be the Commander.”

“You’re lucky you have him—“

He cut you off, his tone more aggressive. “Are we? So far, in the weeks he’s been Commander, he let the Wildlings through our gates. Now, he’s let a girl in.”

“That’s your problem? Ser Alliser almost let the Wall fall because of his own pride,” you spat, growing angry. “He should have listened to Jon when he had the chance. It cost us lives.”

“Us? There’s no us, you’re not one of us,” the man on the right finally spoke. His voice was significantly higher than he looked like he would sound, making you chuckle. 

“What’s so funny?” The middle man asked.

“All of you,” you replied. “You’re very amusing to watch. Pathetic, really.”

“Watch your tone, bitch,” the man closest to you said. “Nobody wants to hear your mouth. As far I’m concerned, a woman has two purposes. Popping out kids, and warming my bed. Would you be interested in either?

You raised a brow, clenching your fists at your sides. He smirked, taking a step closer to you. 

“What? Cat got your tongue, bitch? Not brave enough to say something without your useless Lord Commander there to save you?” 

You couldn’t contain yourself any longer, swinging and cracking your knuckles across his jaw. You swung again before he could recover, smashing your fist into the bridge of his nose. He faltered back this time, landing on his ass. 

“What?” You smirked, flexing your hand. “Cat got your tongue?”

He snarled, standing up. The other two tried to hold him back, afraid of what would happen if they actually hurt the Lord Commander’s girl, but they weren’t strong enough. He broke through, shaking them off. 

Before you could take a step back, you felt a palm strike across your cheek, stinging the flesh. His ring caught on your cheekbone, cutting a small slit.

You brought a hand up to your face in shock, balling your hand into a fist, but he caught your wrist in the air, squeezing it tight. You gasped in pain, whimpering. 

“What are you gonna do now?” He asked, wiping the blood from his nose.

“Let me go,” you said, trying to pull away. “Let me go, or you’ll regret it.”

“Yeah? Why’s that? What are—“

“Hey!”

You turned your heads across the yard to see Edd standing near the kennel door, Ghost standing next to his side. Ghost snarled, looking ready to pounce. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Let her go!” He said, bounding towards you. 

You felt the man let go of your wrist, and heard their footsteps retreating as Edd approached you. You rubbed your wrist, reaching down to run a hand through Ghost’s fur when he got to your side.

“Hey, boy,” you muttered, then turning to Edd. “What are you doing? Why’d you let Ghost out?”

“He was pawing at the door, whining, I heard him all the way from the watchtower. He wouldn’t stop till I let him out. He ran out here, and I followed him. What happened, what did they do to you?”

You shook your head. “It’s alright, I’m fine.”

“Your cheek is red and scratched, and your wrist is already bruising. You’re not fine. Jon is gonna raise hell when he sees it. Not that you couldn’t handle your own, but what were you thinking? Three against one isn’t good odds to start throwing punches.”

You groaned, casting your eyes on the ground. Edd sighed, placing his hand on your shoulder. 

“Come on, then. He’s still in his office, and everyone else is in the dining hall. I’ll take you halfway, and keep everyone occupied till you’re ready to come back.”

“But—“

“No buts. Jon would have my head if I didn’t take you to him straight away. You’re going.”

You relented, giving him a grateful nod as he led the way. He left you halfway, as promised. You walked the rest of the way yourself, only hesitating when you found yourself outside of Jon’s office. 

Sighing, you went in. 

He was at his desk, his head down. He shuffled through papers, sorting through everything on his desk. You slowly approached, wringing your hands together. 

“Jon,” you said softly. 

“I’m almost done, love, give me a minute.”

You internally groaned, preparing yourself for the painful conversation you were about to have. You spoke again.

“Jon.”

“What?” He sighed, looking up, only to drop his things at the sight of you. “Y/N?”

He hurriedly stood, pushing his chair back and bounding around his desk to stand in front of you, cupping your jaw in his hands. You grimaced as he turned your head, inspecting your cheek more closely. He was absolutely fuming, practically shaking with rage. 

His voice was eerily calm. “Who?”

“Jon—“ You started, but he cut you off. 

“Y/N…who?”

“I don’t even know their names, you’ll have to ask Edd,” you relented. “It was three men. He stopped them.”

“What happened?”

“The same as usual. They don’t like that I’m here, they don’t like that you’re Lord Commander, and they think I’m making it worse for everyone being with you.”

“That’s not true—“

“I know,” you immediately said, sighing. “I know. And normally, I ignore them, or stay calm till they get bored and eventually leave me alone. But this time, I just got too angry. It wasn’t just me they were insulting, it was you, too.”

Jon seethed as he listened to you talk, moving from your cheek to inspect your wrist. The bruise had settled to a garish green.

“He threatened me, and I swung. I don’t know why I did it, but he went down. Obviously, he didn’t take very kindly to being hit by a girl, as you can see.”

“You don’t hit a woman,” Jon said, cradling your face in his palms, gently wiping away the dry blood on your cheek. “I’ll find them. I’ll find them, and they’ll wish they’d never laid eyes on you. The noose is too good for them.”

You leaned your forehead against his, trying to calm him down. 

“I’m alright, Jon. I’m alright. That’s enough, for now.”

He took a deep breath as he rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. You ran a comforting hand over his, drawing circles with your thumb over the back of it. 

“You can’t fight my battles for me, darling. You can’t get yourself hurt because of me.”

You shook your head, almost grinning. “Why not? You do it for me.”

“You’re too pretty for scars,” he mused, caressing your cheeks.

“So are you,” you agreed, tracing your finger across the one that had faded to a thin white line, just over his brow. “And yet you fight for me. It’s only fair that I do the same for you.”

Jon sighed, looking down at you with soft and loving eyes. “So, what did he look like?”

“What?” You asked, shaking your head in confusion.

“The other guy. What did he look like?” 

“Worse,” you grinned proudly. “Much worse. I think I broke his nose. And his jaw is sure to be hurting for the next few days.”

Jon smiled, holding you by the waist and pulling you into him. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, breathing you in. 

“That’s my girl.”

—

A/N - Hi! Sorry that this is on the shorter side, I hope you still like it. I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think!

[seiya-starsniper]

Fern - in a world of magic, the greatest miracle was you

For Dreamling? ❤️

JANNNIIIII this one really got away from me, but I hope you like it!

Flower Prompt Game!

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

In another universe, Dream of the Endless does not meet Robert Gadling in a run down pub, does not offer him immortality in exchange for nothing more than a once a century meeting. He does not walk the Waking World with his sister Death, but instead visits her realm for their weekly afternoon tea. 

In this universe, Robert Gadling has made his own immortality in a world where magic never left. He is still a soldier for hire, a mercenary, an assassin where absolutely needed. He has no particularly strong magic of his own. But his skill with the blade, and his loyalty to those he serves earns him a name, and eventually, a favor. He becomes immortal on the night where the twin moons meet from across the sky, when the ensuing eclipse grants the Mad Witch Henreitta Reynolds the power to seal his soul from Death herself. Death notices the ritual and does not intervene, for she is too busy entertaining her brother’s latest stories. 

Dream and Robert Gadling do not meet in this century, nor the next. Or the one after that.

But in all universes, Dream of the Endless is still captured by Roderick Burgess. Roderick Burgess will still take and take and take, but he will still fail to bring his fallen son (not a soldier this time, but a scholar, lost to a dragon attack at his academy). He will pin all his future hopes on his second, less remarkable son, Alex. Alex, desperate to please his father, will perform a ritual far outside his skill level, and it will result in Dream’s freedom, and the death of everyone else on the estate. 

But Dream’s power is a fickle thing, too long have his tools been separated from him, and he does not even have enough power to call himself home. And so, naked, alone, and unable to return to the realm of dreams, Dream of the Endless walks barefoot towards the nearest village, seeking asylum.

In this universe, Dream of the Endless and Robert Gadling meet for the first time when the former collapses at the latter’s feet. Robert, having felt the tremors of the explosion from the Burgess estate, had run towards the carnage, instead of away, looking for survivors. He finds one, and whisks him away back to his cottage by the sea. 

For three days, Robert Gadling would nurse Dream back to health. Dream would stay silent the entirety of those days, would refuse to make eye contact with his caregiver, too mistrustful of humans after having spent a century imprisoned by them. But Hob asks him no questions, does not push him to provide gifts he cannot give. He himself simply gives, and gives, and gives. 

“I am Dream of the Endless,” Dream declares to him the night he feels enough of his power return to him. Robert only smiles back at him, charmed.

“I figured as much,” the immortal replies easily. “Hadn’t dreamed a lick in the last hundred years until the night I rescued you.”

This declaration is startling, but only the slightest bit. Dream had known he was not dealing with no ordinary man. He could smell the heavy cloak of magic on the man’s skin, and yet, none of that magic seemed innate. Robert Gadling had no remarkable magical talent of his own, and yet, he had earned the favor of some of the most powerful magic users in the realm. It was only natural he would have known of Dream’s true nature, and yet he chose to help him anyways.

“Your care has allowed me time to heal, Robert Gadling,” Dream continues, ignoring the thrill the realization alights from deep within him. “I would grant you a boon for your troubles.”

Robert only shrugs. “Call me Hob, first off,” he says, waving him off. “And I don’t need anything from you.”

After a century of being asked for gifts he was unable or unwilling to give, the casual indifference of the man’s dismissal rankles Dream. It is almost insulting. 

“Surely there is something every mortal wants,” Dream insists. “You are already immortal, yes I can sense the magic,” he adds when Hob startles at the statement. “I am still weak from my imprisonment, but I can promise you wealth, power, the ability to inspire all dreamers. What is it your heart desires?”

“I’ve already told you, there’s nothing,” Hob replies, almost vehemently. “I did not save you expecting a boon.”

“I cannot leave a debt unpaid, Hob,” Dream growls, growing impatient. He wishes to return to his realm but he cannot leave before the boon has been granted. His pride will not allow it. “There must be something you wish of me.”

Hob then meets his eyes, ready to argue once more, but then Dream catches a glimpse of the man’s dreams. He sees himself pinned underneath Hob’s broader body, feels the immortal’s lips ghosting along his skin, teeth grazing at his thighs, and hands pressed firmly against his body. Hob realizes almost immediately what Dream has seen and turns away, his face flushed scarlet with embarrassment and humiliation.

“I would not ask that of you,” Hob murmurs. “It is not honorable.”

Dream smirks, and closes the distance between them. Hob does not move, but Dream can hear his heartbeat intensify, can smell the arousal wafting from every pore in his body. It is intoxicating, to be desired so much. It has been too long since Dream has been wanted in such a way. 

“I do not leave a debt unpaid, Hob Gadling,” Dream murmurs against the man’s ear. “But you will have to work to truly pleasure the King of Dreams. Are you prepared to accept that challenge?”

Hob does. He rises to the occasion beautifully. 

When their coupling is complete, Hob Gadling swears fealty to only Dream, makes grandiose promises to be his knight until the end of time. Dream laughs, and accepts. He has always been a greedy creature, and he wants this man for his own, and only his. 

Hob helps Dream track down his tools of office, and when Dream is returned to full power, he grants Hob a place of honor as his knight, and his official emissary between the Waking and the Dreaming. In the night, he steals away his lover to his private chambers, where they bring each other untold pleasure that the rest of the realm feels for eons after.

“You are a marvel my dear heart,” Dream says to him one day, apropos of nothing. “In a world full of boundless magic and power, the greatest miracle to happen to me was meeting you.” 

Hob kisses him gently, still charmed and deeply in love even after thousands of years. “I think you’re the miracle, love,” he chuckles. “I’m just the lucky bastard who gets to love you.”

[see-arcane]

I’m sure it’s been said more articulately elsewhere, but can I just say how much I love how Jonathan and Mina are placed amongst these Classic Heroic Gents (Stoker’s various Issues+ notwithstanding)?

While I have and will continue to feel two ways about how Mina is ultimately Madonna’d and damsel’d--Van Helsing and the Suitors going full diet misogyny/chivalrous, Jonathan just wanting to keep his wife out of the line of fire, Period--she’s so clearly established as a vital support the guys were missing. She brings intel, organization, and, what with the Victorian testosterone poisoning at play, an emotional anchoring point they can’t quite dare to seek out in their own best friends; Too Unmanly. Can’t Be Done.

Then they get introduced to Jonathan Harker. 

He of the harrowing adventure in Castle Dracula! Scaling stone walls and cliffs on the fly twice! Slipping free from a den of four centuries+ old vampires alive! Coming within inches of a killing blow to the Count but for the damned trick of the basilisk gaze and the (un)timely arrival of Dracula’s men! Jack can’t have been the only one expecting a Man’s Man among their group.

But, no. Jonathan Harker is Jonathan Harker. 

He of the golden retriever spirit and bottomless good manners and pretty eyelashes. If Mina is the nascent New Woman (don’t tell her that, she only knows what a New Woman is from the Punch comics), then Jonathan is the New Man. There’s no chest-pounding bravado, no jealousy at all these comparatively ‘threatening’ men--a lord, a rugged cowboy, a man who runs and owns his own asylum--gushing over his wife. It’s just as it was with Van Helsing.

Jonathan: Yes, Mina is amazing isn’t she? Please, continue telling me how great she is. :)

Mr. Harker, who spent two months imprisoned with the Terrifying Mega Vampire that needs an entire cadre of vampire hunters to attack, who was ready to see himself dead rather than risk joining the Brides, who landed a soulmate as fantastic as Mina...

...Is also the same Mr. Harker who takes comfort in law books and organizing paperwork, who pens wistful entries about nice meals and pretty landscapes and how much he loves his wife, whose defining trait when not in Vampire Hell is that of his friendly charm and kind nature.

He has endured nightmares and accomplished the unthinkable on par with the adventurous daydreams of any Classic Hero-Man of his era, yet he did it all while being the soft-spoken prettyboy sweetheart solicitor who stepped off the train and left Jack stunned. 

Between his example and Mina being--to borrow a double-edged phrase from Abe-- ‘a pearl among women’ (that is, being openly intelligent, competent, nurturing, and proactive), I have to assume that there is plenty left unwritten in the diaries about how the Suitors Three are adjusting to the Harkers’ unconventional nature in their time and place.

And perhaps, after all the vampire business is over, they start taking some notes and undoing the performative chokeholds they have on themselves and their hearts.