#i could see him inserting himself into a family event because he thinks it would be funny

[saltycharacters]

Jassel gives big uncle energies. No one actually knows where the uncle came from but he just shows up to family events and gives kids fireworks and says "have fun"

MSAGASFHS See this is correct because you would not want Jassel to be the uncle to your kids unless you are ok with their fingers getting blown off

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 17th of July, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 17th of July, 2024

Question: What is going to happen to the King between now and October?

This is a follow up reading to the one I did yesterday, which indicated that The King would have to withdraw from his cut-down tour of Australia.

Interpretation: This is not good. Something is going to happen that weakens The King or his position.

Card One: Death

This is not the card I wanted to see at the start of this reading.

Death is the card for Scorpio, and The King is a sun sign Scorpio, so this card tells me that this reading is about The King. Whatever happens is going to happen to him, so it won't be a case of e.g. something happening to someone else and the King having to cancel events to support that person. This is something that will directly impact The King himself.

Death, of course, can be literal death, and I am not pursuing that line of thought.

The Death card is usually about change, the change from one state to another from which there is no return. In a similar vein, it can mean letting go, a release of something, endings, transformation, or the transition period itself.

Whatever happens to The King, it is going to be a time of change and transformation. A phase of The King's life as he knows it will end, and a new phase will begin. His responsibilities may change, or the composition of his family may change, or his health may force changes upon him - it is something like that. He is going to have to move to a new phase of life, a new way of being, and he will not be able to return to his old self and his old way of life.

I am getting a vague feeling of something ominous as I type this up, so I am going to ask for a clarifier and see if that helps.

The clarifier I drew was Strength in reverse. This card has the Lion of England on it, which is making me uneasy. The energy from this card is that for some reason, The King's strength is going to fail and he will be left in a weakened state. I usually get Harry and Meghan energy from this card but today I am not, even though I am sure they will insert themselves in some way. This is about the Lion of England being in reverse, being weakened, falling into its shadow side, with the Lion representing The King. It could be a government crisis, and I am clutching that thought like a drowning man clutches a piece of wood to keep him afloat, but it is more likely to be The King himself, I think. Something is going to happen that weakens The King.

Card Two: The Three of Cups in Reverse

The first thing I see here is Cups, which is the suit of emotions, and the wedding shown on the card. Someone's marriage could fail and this could bring a lot of stress to The King. It could be the Harkle marriage, or the marriage of another family member, or it could be his own marriage and he could be left a widower. I'm just putting that out there first, so I can move on.

Looking at the meaning of the card itself, the Three of Cups in reverse, I am getting two meanings that stand out to me. One is of scandal and gossip, so there could be some big scandal that breaks and forces The King to stay at home to deal with it, especially if it involves the government or the constitution. This scandal could leave The King in a weakened position as per the Strength card above. It could also mean that he has to spend a lot of time working, which resonates with the 'too busy to see friends' meaning of this card.

The other meaning of this card is that of isolation, loneliness, and solitude - the opposite of the celebration shown on the card. As I said above, this could be because of a scandal that forces The King to work long hours, or (and this is the meaning I don't want to come true) it could be due to him losing his life partner.

The energy of this card is of stress and sadness, but I'm not getting any more specifics. When I hold the card I feel very sad, near to tears, and I also have a heavy feeling in my stomach - not despair, but as if I had heard very bad news.

The worst case scenario would be both situations occurring - a big scandal that involves/threatens the government/constitution and The King losing his life partner. I do not want that to happen. I am hoping that this is a big scandal, as that can be weathered over time.

I drew a clarifier for this card and it was The High Priestess in Reverse, which is secrets coming to light. That makes me feel better as this now looks like a scandal and not anyone dying. The High Priestess in reverse can indicate confusion, not listening to your instincts, and acting in a way that you know is not right. That tells me that this scandal could involve a cover up of some sort, and now the truth of the matter will come forward in some way. Combined with the reversal of the wedding shown on the card, this could be a scandal arising from a marriage breakup or as the reason for a marriage break up.

Card Three: The Knight of Cups in Reverse

This card is the suit of Cups again, so whatever happens is going to affect The King (and other people) on an emotional level. The knight of Cups can be an apology card, so in the reverse it say s there will be no apology from the person/people involved in the scandal above, even though they should apologise.

The Knight of Cups is the card for Pisces, and the High Priestess above (the clarifier) is also a card of Pisces for me, so we have two Pisces cards in reverse, i.e. acting out of their shadow and behaving badly. There are two prominent Pisces people in the BRF, Prince Edward and Prince Andrew. If the scandal in the cards above is about one of them behaving badly and having their past misdeeds brough to life, my money is on Prince Andrew.

Knights are action cards, the suit of Cups is about emotions, and in the reverse you are seeing the shadow side of this energy, so we can expect things such as tantrums, moodiness, people trying to avoid responsibility and/or slither out of conflict, victim narratives, wanting someone to save them or to be the saviour, emotional manipulation, and so on. There are going to be a lot of feelings flying around all over the place, along with avoiding the issue and blaming other people for one's actions.

Action on this situation may be difficult, as the Knight, the action card, is in reverse.

The energy from this card is sadness and frustration, with frustration being the dominant energy. Once again, it is not more specific than that. I'm not getting one specific person from it either. The energy is more to do with a situation than a specific person.

I drew a clarifier for this and it was The Queen of Cups in reverse. The energy from that card was 100% someone/s being very upset emotionally - huge amounts of emotional turbulence. This may have something to do with children or the home, as the Queen of Cups is the card of the mother, or it could have something to do with Princess Diana or Queen Camilla, both sun sign Cancers. I can't tell for sure as the energy from this card is very, very upset over something and the upset bit is flooding over everything else and drowning it out.

Underlying Energy: The World in reverse

The World is a successful conclusion to a project, or a successful change from one way of being to another. In the reverse, the change is not successful - it fails. The change or project is incomplete, it does not succeed, and you are left with the bitterness of trying and failing to accomplish something. This can be accompanied by a sense of hollowness or a lack of closure.

The energy of this card is of failure. Whatever change or transformation is supposed to be happening with the Death card, it fails. The next card in the deck echoes this message - it is the Six of Wands, the card of defeat and failure. Whatever was planned, it goes wrong and does not come to completion. This can be due to inside or outside forces. The overwhelming energy from this card is of failure. Whatever was supposed to happen, it did not succeed.

Conclusion:

There is some sort of change or transformation that will happen to The King. This will affect him on an emotional level and he will be weakened by it. It looks like this weakening of the King will be due to a scandal that breaks, although there are indications that there could be a separate issue around Queen Camilla. The scandal could be about or triggered by the breakdown of a marriage, or there could be a marriage break up at the same time as the scandal surfaces.

This scandal will be about secrets coming to light. It will involve a coverup, apologies will be expected but not given, and the whole thing will be a vortex of emotional manipulation, people playing at being victims. deceptions, tantrums, moods/sulks, passive-aggressive behaviour, and people sliding away from taking responsibility for their actions. It is going to be an emotional maelstrom. Prince Andrew and/or Prince Edward could be involved, and Princess Diana or mothers and children may be involved as well.

It is likely to be very hard to take action on the individuals involved in this scandal.

The underlying energy of this reading is of failure. Something will fail. Whether that is the desire to keep the secrets behind the scandal buried, or whether the scandal derails some other transformation, or both, I'm not sure. What I can say with certainty is that something is going to fail in a big way. There will be a significant loss or defeat that underlies the above events (transformation and scandal).

There was so much emotion swirling around these cards that it became very difficult to read them. Clarifications from other readers/people are welcome.

[ladykailitha]

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 7

And now you see why I waited until I had this part written before posting the last one? That was one hell of a cliffhanger. Also everyone gets a dig at Al in this. It's family bonding event. But Steve has the best burn I think.

Just a heads up, Steve talks about being abused...heads up if that's a trigger for you.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

***

Steve placed his hand on Eddie’s back the second he felt his friend stiffen next to him.

“Deep breath, Eds,” he murmured. “There is nothing he can say to you that I will let him get away with, okay? Deep breath. Let me and Wayne handle this.”

Eddie let out a deep breath. “Just careful, Stevie. He’s been known to charm snakes out of their skin.”

Steve’s jaw clenched. So that’s the kind of man he was. He knew that kind of man intimately. His own father was like that. He knew what to watch for now that he had been forewarned.

He plastered a solemn expression on his face, that to everyone who didn’t know him well enough would think sincere, but to Eddie and Wayne, they could see the hard set line of his jaw as he kept one eye on Al and the other on the proceedings.

The funeral wrapped up and everyone lined up to throw dirt on the now lowered coffin. Al tried to get directly behind Eddie, but Steve seamlessly inserted himself between them.

Al bristled but the portly man next to him coughed and he was forced to back down.

Finally the family was all that remained as they all walked back to the church.

The portly man stuck to Al like glue and Steve felt a sudden warmth for the boys in blue at that moment. Because he was pretty sure that even though Al Munson had been granted a furlough, someone was paying to keep that man on a short leash.

The family and a small handful of friends arranged themselves on the pews and waited.

It wasn’t too long until a funny little man with thick bottled glasses came hurrying in.

“I’m sorry Mrs Nelson,” he twittered to Penny. “I had a hard time getting to the church.”

Penny just nodded. “It’s all right Mr Mulbury, you’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

He walked up the pulpit and put his briefcase on it. He pulled out a piece of paper of it and then walked back around the pulpit, leaving the briefcase where it was.

“Ehhm,” Mr Mulbury coughed. “The last will and testament of Gina Munson goes as follows...”

He read it out, people getting little trinkets and things that were meaningful to them, instructions on what to do with her clothes and other things that wouldn’t be given to friends or family.

And then it came time to divide up her meager savings. “My savings of five thousand dollars will be divided three ways. To Penny, you get a thousand to repair that lovely house of yours. I know you didn’t want anything, but use it for your family, dearest girl. Love you all the best.”

Penny laughed a watery little chuckle. She shook her head fondly.

“To Wayne, you get two thousand dollars to finally get that motor home you always wanted. When the time is right, retire and see the world like you always dreamed of. See the stars, my beautiful boy. You deserve stars.”

Wayne teared up, coming down in rivers down his face. Both Steve and Eddie hugged him tight.

“To Allen, who had squandered every good thing he every had, his loving wife, his devoted son, his talents and his good sense, you get nothing. You deserve nothing. If you are here to hear this, I hope it is because the state of Texas deemed it so, and not because you have been set loose again on the world.”

There was a gasp from those gathered and they descended into harsh whispers as they wondered aloud who got the remaining two thousand dollars.

Mr Mulbury cleared his throat. “Instead the remaining two thousand will be given to your son, Edward. Through your actions that boy has suffered so, and because of your actions he will receive not only the money, but all my love as well. Live your dreams, Eddie. Be that star for your uncle. Shine brighter then even that of Polaris. Butterfly kisses into the sunset, darling boy.”

Now Eddie was crying too. Two thousand wouldn’t get him far, but it could get him started. He raised a shaking hand to his quivering lips. Steve grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it.

Eddie looked over and Steve mouthed, “you deserve it.”

He nodded back.

Finally there were some other little things to be wrapped up in the will and then it was all over.

Everyone stood and Steve looked over at Al for the first time since they entered the church. The man had a smile plastered on his face that sent chills down Steve’s spine. Whenever his father wore that expression it meant trouble for someone, usually Steve.

They mingled for a bit, waiting until Penny’s friend came back to tell her that dinner was ready for them. Penny, Wayne, Steve, and Eddie all clustered together while everyone else gathered in other groups.

People were coming up and telling Eddie how much he deserved the money and how much his grandmother loved him. It made Steve puff out his chest in pride.

Finally Al came over and all four of them stiffened.

“Eddie, my boy!” Al greeted warmly. “You’ve grown so much since I last saw you. You’re spitting image of your old man.” He lifted a handcuffed hand with a jaunty little wave. “I’d hug ya, but I’m on a bit of a leash.”

Penny bristled. “I paid good money for that leash, I’m glad to see it working.”

The men turned to her in shock.

“Did you know,” she said through gritted teeth, “that the state of Texas was going to let him come to the funeral without a guard to make sure he didn’t escape? And that you actually have to pay for that service?”

Al grinned. “Ah...Penny-elle-oh-pee, you shouldn’t have.” His voice dropped low and menacing. “You really shouldn’t have.”

The portly man nudged him with his elbow. Al straightened up, his charming mask firmly in place.

Wayne shook his head. “Al, Al, Al...you never did know when to fold and when to call.”

Al turned to his brother for the first time. “Big brother always watching out for everyone and never getting ahead. How much they pay you at that workhouse? You know the one, the one that took Dad’s life?”

Wayne grinned. “Pretty good considering we union’ed up about five years ago. Which would have known if you actually read any of the letters I sent you. Just like you would have known about what Eddie looks like now...”

Steve hurried to cover his snort, but Al whipped his head his direction.

“And who the hell are you?”

Steve eyed him with a raised eyebrow. “Steve Harrington, my mother is Sophia Kincade, of the Lexington Kincades and a good friend of your son’s.”

Al turned to Penny. “Why he is here with family?”

Wayne bristled. “This is the boy that saved your son during that major earthquake we had earlier this year. Another thing you’d know if you’d read my damn letters. He deserves to be here just as much as you if not more so.”

Just then Penny’s friend came in and told them that dinner was ready for the family.

Al ran his tongue over his teeth and grinned. “Hey, Bernie, how much time have we got?”

The portly man looked at his watch. “We’ve got about an hour before we have to leave to catch our flight.”

Penny furrowed her brow but knew she couldn’t deny him dinner as much as it grated.

The friends that had been at the reading made their goodbyes and soon everyone else was filing into cars.

Penny and her family in her blue Chevy, Steve, Eddie and Wayne in his BMW, and Al and Bernie in an unmarked Crown Vic.

They get to the house and the scents of a home cooked meal waft from the open front door.

They all go sit down at the table, Danny and Wayne pulling out two more chairs for their unwelcomed guests.

Steve was disappointed to see that not only was there enough food to feed Al and Bernie, but that there was enough food to feed a fucking army.

Penny’s friend’s name is Lucy and her daughter Beth is one of Lauren’s friends, too. They’re both blonde with bright blue eyes and curvy bodies.

They are bustling around the table making sure everyone has enough food.

About half way through dinner Al speaks up. “So you still playing that guitar of yours, Ed?”

Eddie stiffened. “I’ve got a red NJ Warlock that I play now.”

“Ooh...fancy,” Al whistled. “You steal it?”

Lauren and Wayne bristled, but Eddie scoffed. “No, but I did steal an RV once while on the run wanted for murder, but they were a bunch of pricks anyway.”

Wayne and Steve stifled a laugh while the rest of the family looked as though they weren’t sure if he was telling the truth or not.

“Cleared of all charges,” Steve added with a sly smile. “Court ruled it extenuating circumstances.”

It was Eddie’s turn to hide his smile in his napkin.

Al’s mood darkened. He didn’t like being out of the inside joke. “You gonna do anything with the talent I gave ya, teaching you how to play on that beat up ‘ole six string?”

This time Eddie rankled. How dare AL imply that he had anything to do with his ability to play guitar? As if the real reason wasn’t sitting right there at the table.

Steve put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, calming him.

“Was that before or after you taught him how to hotwire a car?” he asked, faux innocence.

Al sputtered.

“See, I always got the impression,” Steve continued, “that instead of teaching Eddie how to play guitar or throw a ball you were too busy trying to make sure your son followed in your footsteps straight into the penitentiary.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide with barely contained glee.

“While Wayne on the other hand,” he said scratching his temple, “was working hard to put on the table, get Eddie through school, and give him the best life he could given the hand you dealt both of them. Now, I’m just some outsider, but I know what it’s like to have a shit dad.”

The room was stock still. Steve didn’t think that they were even breathing at this point, but he pressed on.

“Didn’t fit into the box he built? He hit me. Didn’t get captain my sophomore year, something that had never been done ever? He hit me. Didn’t date the right girl? He hit me. Ditched my asshole friends? He hit me. Now, I don’t know if you’re cut from the same cloth or not. I don’t give a fuck. But you tell another lie like that one to these honest folk, and Officer Bernie here will be taking you back to Texas in a body bag.”

Al jumped to his feet, but before he could even twitch Steve’s direction Bernie whipped out a taser and zapped him with it. Soon he was doing a different kind of twitching.

On the floor.

Bernie began clapping and soon everyone else was too.

Steve blushed. “To think I could have been like that asshole if it wasn’t for getting some sense knocked into me by people who actually gave a damn. I’m sorry he ruined dinner.”

Penny scoffed. “Dinner isn’t ruined. Wayne, Danny please help the kind officer take out the trash.”

Officer Bernie chuckled. “Much appreciated, ma’am.”

Wayne and Danny stood up and helped him take Al back into the Crown Vic.

Wayne went through and made sure that Al didn’t steal anything or had anything that might be a danger to the good officer. He never had trusted Al, even as kids and he sure the hell wasn’t going to start now.

Soon the officer was on his way and the family sat down to eat the dinner that was so wonderfully prepared in peace. Like Gina had always intended.

Wayne smiled at Steve. He was proud of how he had stood up to Al for his boy.

****

Pt 8|Pt 9|Pt 10|Pt 11|Pt 12

Tag list: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee @dragonmama76 @flaming-reauxster

[gettinshiggywithit]

hii yandere au with fyodor? kddff

𝔻𝕠-𝕕𝕠-𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕪𝕖𝕧𝕤𝕜𝕪;𝔸 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥'𝕝𝕝 𝕄𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕊𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞!

Summary: a certain ushanka wearing russian has taken an obsessive liking to you…woohoo😀

Pairing: fyodor x gn!reader [yandere au]

Genre: uhm questionable?

Event MasterList

I think we all know what he’d be like as a yandere :”)

Family go bye bye~

But in all seriousness,I think Fyodor would take someone just because he could.

No one’s gonna stop him and if he wants you,he’ll be damned if he cant have  you!

As he told dazai,step one is making you dependant on him.

He can be extremely charming when he wants to be~~ (ra-ra-rasputiiinnnn)

(Also im sorry but Fyodor in casual clothes???? SIGN ME TF UP!!!)

He inserts himself into your life with ease and then integrates himself into it just as seamlessly.

If youre someone who really needs your parents to like your partner before you get serious with them,then so be it.he’s the son in law of their dreams!

So polite and caring.so likeable and down to earth!!

He knows how to make someone fall hard and fast. And once he has you hook line and sinker?

The mask comes off.you spend on night with him after you confess your love,and then he just slips you a little extra sleepy juice.

And while you sleep he takes away everything dear to you.

Your parents? Gone.your friends? Gone.anyone you knew,loved or cared for? Tata Bye Bye~

When you wake up you have nowhere to go.

Like,literally.

No home no family no nothing.

But what do you need all that for when you have himmm~

It isn’t long until youre crying into his chest and shaking up a storm

Youre so scared.youre scared of him! But you have only him.

He tell you he’s all you need.

He tells you this is for the best.that your family didn’t deserve you..

That they only wanted to hurt you!

He spins a web of lies so full of sense you begin to believe it.

(of course if you don’t he’ll just show you what will happen if you disobbey~there is NO length he wont go to.he will do the most horrific of things,or he’ll get good ‘ol nikolai to do it~ it doesn’t matter who does it as long as you watch.as long as you understand.as long as you learn)

And when you turn to putty in his hands,just as he wanted,he gets bored.

He needs a new project.a new plaything.but…if you insist on not being left behind,not being thrown out,he could think of ways to make you bend backwards for him~

Or he could just kill you. Would be easier.

Honestly depends on his mood tbh.

But,lets go more into if you didn’t relent so easily hmm?

Like I said,he isn’t beyond doing the unspeakable.

Tried to escape? Oops,looks like its time to watch dad go through unendurable agony~

Or would he just incinerate the corpse before you with zero fucks given? Who knows

But whatever it is if you don’t listen,the consequences will be harsh to say the least.

Would he hurt you physically? Perhaps not.its not his thing.(by that I mean physical violence) he might slap you on occasion,but beating isn’t it.perhaps some light torture? Deprivation of basic needs? Perhaps…

But other than that, psychological manipulation is one of the main things you’d have to endure.

Endless gaslighting and lies.he’ll tell you just enough truths to keep you in line but other than that, its all lies. And you don’t even know.

Don’t want to do something? He’ll talk you into it. Make you think it was your idea all a long and youre such an absolute genius for coming up with it!

Its that easy for him. Like eating a croissant!

And his ability,how would he use that against you?

Well now,he wouldn’t be able to actually use it per se, but he could definitely use it to keep you in line!

First he’ll make sure you see how easily he can kill with just a touch,then anytime you stepout of line,he’ll just step towards you menacingly and back you into a corner before ghosting his fingers over your face.

Letting you know that one wrong move could be fatal and that he was in control here. And he was always going to be.

If his darling would try ctrl+alt+deleting themselves, no they wouldn’t!

He isn’t stupid! Theres nothing! That  could be used as such in your little apartment (or wherever he’s chosen to keep you for that day/time period)

But if you are dangerously close to your limit and becoming an empty husk of who you were before,then he’l make a decision.

Does he let you meet your demise,whether that be mercifully or not would depend on him of corse, or would he change to make you live just a little longer?

If it’s the former he either leans in for a kiss and places his hand on your cheek,activating his ability,or if he’s feelin a little goofy,then he asks nikolai to do it or cooks something up himself. Something entertaining enough to be worth his time of course! After all,he’s a very busy rat.

But if it’s the latter then he showers you with love and comfort and no of course none of that bad stuff was real! Youre just imagining it myska!

He makes life so unbelievably perfect and once youre yourself again he lets the façade fall and begins to break you again.

And now that youre fully at his mercy again,practically his dog, he can deal he most damage. And that obviously means the most fun, of course~

Tag list(open):- @diagonal-queen

All rights reserved © 2023 gettinshiggywithit. Please do not repost, modify or claim as yours. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[ay-chuu]

As a Boyfriend: Jade Leech

Warnings: Tooth roothinf fluff,cringe and lol first time writing for a character that im not so close... BUT for my dear; @fukashiin <3

Jade is the most advanced person in terms of emotional intelligence between Floyd, himself and Azul! He just doesn't show it, or makes people hard to guess it with his slightly sadistic traits. But he is neither open to everything like Floyd and lives according to the moment or doesn’t get hysterical like Azul and make things get out of control. He analyzes everything and approaches the person with the most point shots in an emotional sense. Just like when he managed to impress you (;

He considers himself a loser in many things, and he didn't realize it until he met you... he thought he was incompetent in most things because he set himself back from everyone, but after he becoma lovers with you, he realized that this was an idea that could only be overcome. And this is actually also when he falls in love with you. Because he has always known that someone who can make him believe unexpected thoughts is his soulmate.

A romantic gentleman. Everything he does in the position of butler is a factor that is not a role for you. Are you tired? Your favorite drink is already ready. Are you sad? Why don't you lie down on that couch over there and tell him everything? Problems with the lesson? Here are the most profound books on this topic.

You're a new member of Mountain Lover Club! At first you thought you'd be so bored... (no, you definitely didn't join that club to impress Jade...) But taking mountain trips and determining the types of mushrooms from the book turned out to be more fun than you expected! First of all, there is no phone, it's a great Decoupling from the digital environment.... Secondly, you are drunk with nature, and at the end of every walk you become full of love and mushrooms. Finally and most importantly, you taste Jade in the most authentic way... when you two are alone together, he shows you his incredibly true self and always makes you feel soft inside.

One of the things that upsets Jade the most is the sadness of his loved ones. Floyd and you are at the top of this list. If someone has upset you... God bless them. I don't think he'll let them go without leaving a serious trauma. Even if this person is your family, he scares them in some way and makes them respect him. Because Jade is always an influential person. But if any event has upset you, what he will do is solve the incident as soon as possible as efficiently as possible, because he would rather drown the world than see you upset.

He's quite jealous. But he usually shows it to the person he's jealous of by making life a little hell because he doesn't want you to understand that he's jealous…

Swimming in the sea with you with the eel form, is his favorite. You're playing with each other, laughing like there's no tomorrow, and just.... You're together.... As you lean your foreheads against each other, the reflection of the setting sun on your face is an incredible happiness for both of you.

It may seem like he's the dominant person in the relationship, but actually you're the secret boss! He's just being angry at you and leading you so that you can be happy. (He's a complete malewife... When you get married, you get a 10/10 service in your home. He is a devoted husband! devoted to his spouse, *insert proud face with mop!*)

To be lovers together with Jade is to be able to say that you also have a close relationship with Floyd! You three are a chaotic group, and there are no people who can understand or put it in a sentence to describe the craziness you are doing. And that's why Jade loves you so much. Just as you can have peaceful moments when you two are together, all the calm disappears in an instant when you put your twin Decoupled! (Floyd is very happy thst you two are dating and even jealous that Jade is dating you... But that's another day's topic!)

All in all, Jade is both a gentle lover who has all the qualities you can look for and want, and a wonderful partner who can give you the most crazy and adventurous moments.

[lavender-teardroplettes]

Si x Friend headcannons mayhaps🥺👉👈

......ANON I LOVE YOU!!!!!!

God it's been a minute and Si's lore got lumped in with me first trying to make an oc for the game before switching into self insert-

Friend 100% was Si's first crush even if he pushed Si away at first and while keeping in mind that neither of them knew what a crush was at that point.

Even before Friend's family dies, Si's family would hold up appearances and let him hide out at their house occasionally. Si's house was nowhere as clean as Friends no matter how much clutter and other junk were cleaned up, but to both of them, because it was happier together than alone, it was home. After the accident, Si was allowed more in Friend's household and Friend was allowed to travel more frequently between his and SI's place to get what little comfort and sense of normality he could hold onto.

Keagan caused a REALLY big rift in Si and Friend throughout high school until the two of them had their initial falling out. A lot of it was Keagan super hitting on Si, and one of Keagan's friends (blanking on his name atm) not only putting down Si, but putting down Friend at the same time. It was stupid and chalked up to peer pressure and SI not actually having a good support system that he distanced himself from Friend, when in reality they were each other's biggest rocks and something Si regrets betraying before the events of the demo.

The day Si calls Friend to pick him up after breaking up with Keagan and not wanting to ride in a car with a drunk driver was one of the hardest days in Si's life. He finally allowed himself to be vulnerable and rely on the one person he knew he could count on....and oh god was he glad it was still true.

During the events of the demo- I see Si being on the side of still harboring old feelings for Friend, but not wanting to mess up the second chance they have. He assumes Friend is being his usual flirty self since Si had heard about him being more of a playboy, and you expect your friends to change over the years, so he mostly pushes his feelings down and feels like he's the only one stuck in the past.

^ This also causes him to be a little too nice and friendly with people since he's used to his best friend "casually flirting" with him and doesn't think too much of the more subtle approach most people take....like Carter for example.

I don't see Si getting kidnapped to the basement in the way that most do in that sort of route. I see Friend playing on Si's paranoia and convincing him that he can't trust anyone in the way he trusts Friend, and that it would be just like Keagan all over again. Why start all over with someone new when you can be with someone you've known....trusted....loved....your whole life? I see maybe one friend that Si makes outside of Friend possibly dying if they pry too much into Si's disappearance, but I would also like to think that if Si went willingly, Friend would try his best to scare them off instead of risking Si being upset with him more than he already is with the confusion of being gaslit and essentially talked into living in a fancy cell.

Alternatively....we can have two dorks who have been love with each other since there were kids where one person knew all along and the other took longer to realize it until their sense of love and comfort suddenly wasn't there anymore. Si and Friend are both on the demi spectrum iirc, but it takes longer for Friend to realize it and they fall victim to stupid high school bs in between everything. In this case, I see the cat cafe date being canon, with SI wearing a cute outfit just to TRY and shoot his shot again hopefully picking up on Friend's signals in the right way this time. Of course, this still means that Friend is weary of every move Si makes, but it opens up for more measures of security on Si's end. Si'll never know who killed the man who touched his arm or the woman who got to close to him while he was walking, and slowly Friend has more of a grasp on Si's day to day life to make sure he NEVER leaves Friend in the same way his sisters did. To Friend....he has nothing left to hope or LIVE for if he doesn't have Si, and he's not giving an inch of an opening for it to happen again....if he can manage it.

[woodchipp]

You have a lot of thoughts about the topic, so what ideas/suggestions/other input (if any) do you have for an Omori rewrite?

Ideas? I have way too many. I've outlined some of them here and here (in a very disorganized manner), but I've thought up a lot of new ideas since then. I recommend to check the linked posts first, but I'll try my best to recap some of the ideas from the posts I've linked in this post, if you don't mind!

Long and most likely incoherent rant incoming.

1) Make Mari actually kill herself, of course. I really did like the game's initial premise of this young kid and his friends trying to deal with the loss of a beloved relative/friend before The Twist, so I'd cut The Twist and try to keep the story straightforward in that aspect. Perhaps that could've made Sunny a bit more sympathetic since he'd get to be the victim of circumstance the game evidently wanted people to see him as and allowed the story to explore Mari as a full character instead of reducing her to the typical saint for everyone to revere and cry over.

One could try to make the suicide itself the plot twist, though. Maybe the sight of Mari's hanged corpse could've been so incomprehensible to the 12-year-old Sunny he'd just pretend to have never seen it in the first place (his mind would block it out) and instead convince himself that Mari happily left for college with Hero. Maybe Sunny mentioning her to Hero or asking him about her after he comes back would make the latter pause and then change the subject of the conversation in a neat little bit of foreshadowing. Besides, a good chunk of the original game's foreshadowing for its twist already pointed to suicide, so why reinvent the wheel?

I insist on this idea in particular because it's tragic, it's horrifying and, most importantly, it's realistic - it's everything the game strove to be. Realism-induced horror is one of my favorite "genres" of horror, and I think OMORI could've had a great shot at exploiting said trope to its benefit were it not for The Twist.

The biggest problem with that sort of plotline, I think, would be Basil. His importance to the game's story relies on The Twist; without it, he has no reason to be there. I woudn't want to cut him altogether, but I can't think of an organic way to insert him into the "Mari kills herself" plotline either, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

2) Make Sunny and Mari's home life horrible lmao. I've already talked about it here and in the first linked post, but I'll reiterate myself - you don't grow up into a strict perfectionist or with self-esteem as low as Sunny's (the game very clearly implies Sunny had self-esteem issues even before he killed Mari) by partying at your besties' birthdays and hugging plushies together. Problems like that tend to be caused by a dysfunctional home.

Yes, the "abusive parents" trope is rather overused nowadays, but I'd still consider it somewhat of an improvement over the complete lack of information about Sunny's family pre-Mari's death. I also think it'd have been quite interesting if the game explored how the toxic home environment the two were born into would inform their personalities. That way, the recital argument would be less "why is Mari so mean 2 me 💔" and more the result of their issues boiling over.

Tying into this idea is the next one.

3) Make Black Space a recollection of Sunny's backstory a la Time's Arrow. Long story short, Time's Arrow is an episode of a show called Bojack Horseman that stands out to me due to the way the featured character's trauma is subtly conveyed without sacrificing story - the flashbacks are mostly coherent, but filtered through the character's emotional perception of the events at the time. The best example of this is a formative memory from the character's childhood, in which she sees her father callously throw her beloved toy into the fireplace before warning her to keep her emotions in check and telling her not to cry. The fear she felt at the moment infuenced her memory of the event, represented by the aforementioned fireplace becoming a wall of hellfire.

I think such an approach would've been a great fit for Black Space as well. Not only would this allow the player to get some real insight into what made Sunny the way he is, his memories being filtered through his emotions would allow the game to characterize him (e.g. the sash bars on his house's windows could be made to look like the bars of a prison cell to imply he felt trapped in his own home). This could even allow the game to show us the big argument itself!

4) Make Kel, Aubrey, Basil and Hero characters instead of props for Sunny to interact with. The story should've examined their issues too. Hero and Kel have some workings of interesting conflicts (e.g. Hero's outburst and how it affected Kel, Hero struggling with relating to the friend group only as their "dad", Kel's status as the unfavorite sibling), as do Basil (his parents and the abandonment issues stemming from them, his general relationship with his grandma) and Aubrey (see the second linked post), but none of that is elaborated on by the game in favor of focusing on Sunny and his (w)angst. Delving into their issues would've been way more interesting for me than listening to them go "man I miss my wife Tails Mari ;A;" over and over again, at least.

5) Make the game's timespan longer. 5 or 10 days instead of 3 would allow the game more room to get through the other characters' arcs before shifting focus to Sunny for the finale, I think.

6) Make Faraway Town a bit larger. Make it wackier, too. There's four streets, a church, a park and a supermarket. There's nothing to do in this town at all, which isn't good since it's where the player spends a good chunk of the plot in. The NPCs and their sidequests are equally cookie-cutter - buy a grandma her medication, tutor some kids, play hide-and-seek with the twins...

It'd have been nice if the main story's subject matter was juxtaposed with the sidequests being as batshit insane as realistically possible. "Realistic" doesn't have to mean "boring", IMO. Real life can be fun!

Tying into this idea is the next one.

7) Lock the good ending behind 100% completion of all the Faraway sidequests, probably...? It's one of my weirder ideas, and I don't know whether it'd be feasible since I'm not a game developer lol. But I think the game could've tried to make some sort of point about how Sunny managed to make headway in working on his issues only because he made the effort to socialize with people who weren't his comfortable circle of friends.

I don't know what to do with Headspace. Really. The general concept of a saccharine dream world created to avoid reality is nice on paper, but it's a big tumor on the plot - it contributes next to nothing to the player's understanding of Sunny or his friends and becomes entirely irrelevant halfway through the game. I guess I'd make it shorter?

[envysnest]

Snakeskin (Sephiroth/Reader) (ch. 13/?)

AO3 / Pillowfort

Rating: Explicit

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14

Tags: First Time, Reader-Insert, Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Frank Discussions of Past Rape/Abuse, Everyone is Queer, Canon-Compliant (if you squint), Pre-Crisis-Core Seph, Slow Burn, i continue to disappoint my friends and family, sephiroth is a virgin and in this essay i will, Reader is a Cis Woman, fluffy sex, Praise Kink, Gratuitous Biochemistry

Summary:

You are a young biologist, fresh out of graduate school, working in Shinra's R&D Division under Professor Hojo. You had long since given up on finding a partner and starting a family, preferring instead the company of your cell samples and your scientific instruments.

As the conflict in Wutai worsens, you strike up an unexpected friendship with a First Class SOLDIER.

(Sephiroth/Reader Slow Burn)

TW's for this chapter: Dissociation, trauma flashback, body horror/violence (related to the trauma flashbacks). Comfort and soothing comes with all of these events!

—

A door closed. You startled awake. How long had you been lying there? The water was still hot. Condensation dripped from the mirror. You looked down at your hands, where the water had wrinkled your fingertips into little raisins. When you sat up, the wine made your head spin.

Someone was in the apartment with you.

You held your breath, held very very still, and listened.

Did Sephiroth have cleaners or other people over? What if someone saw you? You looked desperately at the open bathroom door, wishing you had closed it behind you. The person (intruder, whoever they were) was humming to themselves and puttering around the main living space. You heard bags hit the floor, zippers and buckles being undone. A ghoulish image filled your head: a Turk, sent to fetch you, waiting to pounce just beyond the door. No touching, they’d say. The ethics board will be notified. 

You drew your knees to your chest; the tub water sloshed violently. 

The intruder called out your name. “Are you in the bathroom?”

Sephiroth. 

Oh. You loosened your grip on your knees. “Yes,” you called back. When would you stop being so paranoid? Sephiroth had trusted you with a key, after all; it wasn’t as if he had people coming and going freely. You had almost forgotten he was due to return home.

“Everything alright in there?”

“Yes,” you called again, for lack of anything else to say.

There was a loaded pause. You could hear his footsteps in the kitchen.

When he finally spoke, his tone was breathless with laughter:“Did you fall in?”

Please kill me. You rubbed your face with your hands. “No, Seph,” you sighed. “Just in the tub.” 

“Good,” he replied; you could still hear the laughter in his voice. “Because if I had to conduct another rescue, I would lose my mind.”

You smiled. When you relaxed your arms, you felt pain seep out of your muscles. You had been tense, holding in fear of— 

What? Sephiroth being angry with you? 

You thought back to your earlier worrying: it was so easy to disregard his feelings when the man himself wasn’t in the next room, unpacking from an arduous mission. You felt a little childish about how you had behaved the past week. He deserved so much better than your petulant attitude. It was his first…Thing. In the next room, Sephiroth began whistling. He should have an agreeable partner who didn’t think awful, mean things about him when he was away. His life was stressful enough.

With a jolt, you realized you had left the stockings in the dryer. So much for surprise: if he did his laundry, he’d see them, soft and wrinkled, in a sad little heap. You looked down at your knees, at your body tucked into a ball. 

A dark shape appeared in the door. You shrunk away from it.

“Don’t get up,” Sephiroth said, one hand outstretched to you. He looked— excited? “I have a gift for you.”

“A…?”

Sephiroth turned and disappeared into the bedroom across the hall. “I was hoping to get your opinion on it,” he called. You heard him rummage in the closet; you craned your neck to try and see him. A few boxes thunked to the floor.“I get a lot of promotional material I don’t need, but this looked interesting. I wanted us to try it together.”

You swallowed past a lump in your throat. The images your mind conjured weren’t exactly welcome. “I’m scared,” you called.

“Don’t be,” he called back. “I think you’ll like it.”

More rustling. You sank into the water to your chin. You wished the water wasn’t clear: even curled into a fetal position, Sephiroth could see all of you. So much for the surprise.

Sephiroth was gone for several minutes, rummaging through his clothes drawers. You stared at the empty wine glass. Did he look at that framed picture in the closet every time he came home? Did he speak to it?

Who was she, exactly?

When he returned, he was dressed in a loose teal shirt and navy sweatpants. The shirt’s vinyl print was faded and cracked: Livin’ on Island Time, it said, the font a cheery purple, next to a glossy margarita.

His hands were cupped around something cylindrical. 

You leaned back, away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice your hesitation. Or, for that matter, that you were naked. There was no snide comment, no leer, no raised eyebrow. You may as well have been meeting on the 64th floor. 

Sephiroth nodded to the book on the side table. “Great choice. I find Becken’s spare prose masterful, especially during the lecture hall scene.”

You had fallen asleep around twenty pages in.  “Oh.” You watched as he carefully set the wine glass, then the book, onto the bathroom’s marble counter. “Totally.”

“Let’s get this table out of the way.” He moved the wooden side table back into its nook. You didn’t understand why until he knelt next to your left arm, right where the table had been. “Here.” 

The cylindrical object was a small amber bottle, nestled in his hands. He offered it to you over the lip of the tub; you picked it up, held it up to the light. The label was from a luxury beauty brand, one you could never afford, had its logo printed across the front. You sat straight up. This bottle held around fifty-thousand gil’s worth of product, and you were naked in a bathtub. The body oil inside gave off a faint aroma through the cap: something woody, floral. 

Sephiroth crossed his arms and leaned them against the lip of the tub. “Apparently this is a warming massage oil,” he said, resting his chin on his crossed arms. “It’s supposed to be good for sore muscles.”

“Seph,” you breathed. You checked the back and scanned the ingredients. “They just…give you this? For free?”

He shrugged. “They usually want a sponsorship out of it,” he replied. “I turned this one down. But,” he said, his tone mischievous, “I don’t have to return what they give me.”

Suddenly, the cardboard boxes piled in the closet made perfect sense. You felt a pang of envy. Every paycheck you received seemed to disappear the second you got it. The tights, though in your price range, had been your “treat” for the week. An endless flow of free luxury products felt unreal, decadent. He had handed this to you as casually as a pair of chopsticks or a glass of wine.

You looked up at him, feeling unmoored. “You’re…giving it to me?”

He nodded. “Yes. It’s your gift.” He leaned his cheek against his forearm, looking up at you. “You want to try it now?”

“Yes,” you said. “Please?”

He scrunched his nose as he smiled. “‘Please,’ she says.” He gestured to you. “Go on.”

You could barely keep your hands still as you removed the cap. You broke the plastic seal and brought the bottle to your nose. A forest, tinged with citrus and juniper, filled your nostrils. It reminded you of a rainforest, somewhere far away, during a downpour: peaceful, as if you were bathing outdoors there, alone. It smelled expensive.

“Wow.” You offered the bottle to Sephiroth. “Smell!”

He took the bottle from you and inhaled. He coughed, turning his head away. 

You grimaced. “That bad?”

“That is a lot,” he wheezed, holding the bottle at arm’s length. He blinked rapidly against the fumes. “We probably don’t need much.” He turned the bottle over and scanned the instructions, rubbing the back of his neck in thought. “It says a palmful. I’m afraid to use more.”

You offered him the cap, and he set it aside on the bathroom counter, right next to the wineglass. It wasn’t until he repositioned himself behind you that you realized what he meant.

You froze, staring at the open door. “Wait. Wait wait wait. Like. Now, now?”

“Oh,” he said behind you. “I wasn’t clear. Did you want me to put it on you?” A pause. “I thought it could be…” He cleared his throat. “A nice activity.”

Those books under his bed. Your stomach sank. You were sure at least one of your therapy books had mentioned massages as a way to introduce intimacy. He must have been pent-up, and anyway, that amount of high-quality takeout wasn’t cheap. This is what you’re here for, you thought. You can’t have forgotten that already.

But you wanted to hope anyway. It was in your nature to. 

Your breath hitched when you tried to speak. “Oh,” you said, then, “Um,” then, “If you want?”

“If I want?” Sephiroth teases, and you dimly recognized that low tone, the one he used when he spoke to you in bed. You were definitely not imagining things. “What do you want?”

Affection and disgust each roiled within you, locked in a tight embrace. Did normal people feel this way when they had sex? Did normal people blow ten thousand gil on lingerie, hoping it would impress their partner into staying? 

“This,” you said. “I want this.”

He chuckled. “The lady always gets her way.”

You looked down at the water, at your body underneath the surface. Sephiroth set the bottle aside and rubbed his hands together. 

“Ready?” he asked. 

“Sure,” you said to the water. It wasn’t as if he needed to ask. Not many people did.

His palms settled on both of your shoulders. The smell of juniper and cedar wafted by your nose. When his thumbs pushed into either side of your spine, you stifled a pleased gasp: Impossible warmth trailed after his touch. He repeated the motion, digging his thumbs in deeper.

“How’s that?” he asked behind you. 

You pressed back against his hands in reply, making a soft little hum as you did.

“You’re all tight up here,” he murmured. “Do you lean down when you work?”

A few months ago, Hammond had slipped you a tiny poster for your cubicle: a shrimp in a suit and tie, hunched over a desk. No shrimping!! it said. “I’m always leaning down,” you say. The hot water, the warming oil, his careful hands digging right where you wanted them: it was all making you drowsy. He steadied his hand on your front and pressed into your shoulder with the heel of his hand, and you felt your muscle shifting for him, like your body was opening itself to his touch. (Traitor, you thought.) “I know HR has these ergonomic meetings, and they’re mandatory, but…I don’t know.”

“Take advantage.” Sephiroth switched to your other shoulder. “There’s always money for desk chairs, believe me.”

“I’m so jealous of your apartment,” you blurted. The second it left your mouth, you regretted it. How rude of you; how snippy; how petty. 

Sephiroth sighed. “It’s a wonderful space. If only I was allowed to use it more often.”

“I’m sorry, Seph,” you said. “I didn’t mean it that way, and— and here I am using your hot water— I didn’t mean—”

“Actually,” he said, and his voice was gentle, “I would argue your presence makes it a home.”

You turned around to look at him. Sephiroth’s answering smile was small. Shy. It was so different from the frozen Late Nite Midgar smile; different from the smirk he wore during fights. 

It was you: he was different around you. Reality tilted in strange ways around him, distorting and stretching into long, languid shapes, like light around a black hole. There was no surviving an event horizon; you would fall, willingly, into this one.

Sephiroth nodded towards the door. “You’re going to have to face forward if you want me to keep going.”

You turned forward. It seemed silly that he would hurt you. Or…did it? Affection and disgust again, dancing that strange tango in your brain: that odd feeling that your skin should crawl where he touched you, that confusion when all it felt like was bliss.

“Did you mind when I called you a tease?”

You started. “Huh?”

Sephiroth’s hands paused at the base of your neck. “Calling you a tease.” He shifted his hand behind you and went still, like he was considering something. After a pause, he made a v with his knuckles and pushed down on either side of your first vertebrae. You sighed into his touch. He asked, “Was that going too far?”

You turned around to face him again. The bath water sloshed around you. “What, like…yesterday?”

“Yes,” he said, his eyes downcast. His ears were pink. “The message I sent.”

You couldn’t imagine the man from your screen getting up, going home, and looking up how to have sex. “I…no. It was nice.”

His face brightened, and heaven help you, you were incredibly fond of him. “You liked it?” he asked.

“You’re still learning all this stuff,” you said as you turned forward. “I should be asking you.”

“I never considered that,” Sephiroth replied, and you could hear his smile. “I only think of pleasing you.”

You smiled at the doorway. “Goes both ways,” you murmured. “Don’t feel pressured. Okay?”

“You’re too kind,” he said. One hand pressed against your sternum. “Lie back. I’ll get your arms.” His hands moved to your left bicep, thumbs pressing in and pushing upwards towards your shoulder. You leaned back against the tub, staring up at the ceiling.

When the silence became too much, you turned your head to look at him. “How was your week?”

Sephiroth growled at your arm.

You smiled. “That bad?”

“That bad.” He focused on your left hand, rubbing tender circles into your palm. 

“Want to complain?”

“Do I ever. Let’s see…” He turned your hand over and began massaging your arm again. “I thought of you during a morning intelligence briefing. Most of it could've been an e-mail. I wanted to message you about it."

“Why didn't you?"

“I couldn't let everyone see me on my phone. You’d be surprised at what affects morale.” He smiled, looking away from the tub entirely. “It was hard to stay away."

You sat up. “Seph," you breathed. His ears flushed that sweet, particular scarlet you adored, the shade of ripe fruit. “That's so sweet of you."

That made him meet your eye again. He smiled at you, scrunched his nose. “You would have made the time pass faster,” he said, and this time, he sounded more confident. 

You look down at where he took your hand in both of his. The oil was a bronze color, so stark against his milky-white palms. “I don't-- know what to say."

“You don't need to say anything. Compliments are free.” 

You opened your fingers and let them linger over Sephiroth's open palm, whispered them over that calloused skin, those veins like purple ink. His breath caught; his eyes met yours. Watching you closely, he stroked the tender underside of your wrist, just the pads of his index and middle fingers against your pulse. You shivered; his head tilted in gentle curiosity. You got that small feeling again, the good one, the one that made you feel like porcelain. You, something priceless; him, the faithful admirer. Remembering last weekend, you thought he might want to feel it the other way around.

You leaned towards him, holding the edge of the tub for balance. “Let me compliment you back, at least.” 

Sephiroth’s face shuttered. He suddenly looked exhausted as he pushed your hand back to you. “Please don’t.”

“What?" You didn’t like that: how quickly he shut down, how his eyes traveled down to rest on the bathmat below. You withdrew your hand from the tub's edge. “What's wrong with that?"

“’Sephiroth, the war hero.’” He did a sarcastic little sparkle with his hands. “’The great and mighty SOLDIER, defender of the free world. Come see what shaving cream he uses.'"

“What about…” You lied back and looked up at the ceiling. “The things that only I would know? Or that your friends would know?”

He wordlessly gestured for your right arm. You turned around to face the glass shower and offered it over the lid of the tub. Sephiroth took your hand, but he still wouldn’t look at you, preferring instead to stare at his thumbs as they worked over your palm. The oil left gentle heat wherever it touched. Silence fell again, and you looked ahead, at the shower. You watched a droplet creep down over the glass wall. It eventually joined with another droplet further down, and the two continued their quest towards the tile as one.

Sephiroth huffed, and you looked to him. “I…” He worried his bottom lip in his teeth. “I’m not really a compliments person.”

You waited for him to follow up on that. He didn’t.

“Can I…at least try?" You held up your free hand in surrender. “Unless you wouldn't want that?"

Sephiroth looked up at you, and for a moment, you thought he might be game, until—

“Tell me about your week, instead,” he said, and his smile was a little absent. “Anything exciting?”

You remembered the baying, jeering crowd at Late Nite Midgar, how Sephiroth had looked lost until someone put Masamune in his hand again. 

“Besides Hojo?” you asked.

Sephiroth rolled his eyes dramatically. There it was, he was back from wherever he had run away to. “You must be excited for your presentation.”

“I think we have good data.” You trailed your fingers over Sephiroth’s arm. Goosebumps raised on his skin. “But speaking in front of that huge conference room? Kinda makes me wanna throw up.”

“Tell me about the data you have. Practice your presentation with me.”

You bristled. “Well, I don’t exactly have it right now.”

He shrugged, but you caught the quirk of his lips when he did. “Just talk to me about it.”

You thought for a moment. “There’s sugar in mako, or something like it, I think. A sugar,” you added, “not, like, sugar for coffee or tea. It…how do I explain this…”

Sephiroth studied your face. To your relief, he looked content, almost peaceful. “Go on.”

“It…binds glucose— sugar receptors on the liver cells. We think, anyway. There’s high blood glucose after dosing, too. Still have some follow-ups in mind, but I don’t even know what the liver does with it. It’s not like mako poisoning causes weight gain. If anything, it’s—”

“The opposite.” Sephiroth wrapped his hand around your bicep. You tried not to think about how easily he could shatter it, and then failed. 

You closed your eyes and turned away, away from where he was coaxing his hand up towards your shoulder. “Right. And mako is an appetite suppressant, isn’t it? Maybe it’s binding GLUT1 competitively. Or it’s messing with insulin output?” You hugged your knees with your free arm. “I don’t know. I’d have to ask Yun’s team if they’ve seen evidence of diabetic shock in test subjects. I’m not sure if the body would be able to pull up glucose from food if there was a polysaccharide in the way.” You hesitated. “Did you…get any of that?”

Sephiroth smiled and nodded. “Mm-hmm. Every word.”

You laughed, and then you remembered Friday afternoon. “Oh!” you exclaimed, trying to sound casual. “Off-topic, but I-- I saw the strangest thing. Maybe you’d know something? Genesis looked like he took a bad hit to the face.”

His hands stilled. Sephiroth gave you an odd look. “You saw Genesis hurt?”

“His nose was broken.” You gestured to your own nose with a cupped hand. “Do you know why?”

“I do.”

“What was it?”

Sephiroth’s answer was swift and casual, as if he was describing the weather:

“It was me.”

There was a high-pitched ringing in your ears. You licked your lips, but they felt painfully dry. “Why?” was all you managed.

He sighed heavily beside you. His hand lingered on your shoulder. You imagined him shoving your head down under the water, how the water would burn your sinuses as it rushed into your waiting lungs. 

Would you fight back? Would you splash water on the tile floor?

“We had a fight,” Sephiroth said carefully, “and he said something…unkind.” His voice was tense: you could hear him tip-toeing around the truth, and this frightened you even more. “I lost my temper. The next thing I remember was seeing him turned away from me.” Sephiroth’s hand left your shoulder. “I regretted it immediately,” he continued. “We haven’t spoken since.” He hesitated. “You say he was still injured?”

You stared straight ahead. “What did he say to you?”

“I’d rather not repeat it.” There was pain in his voice. “Please, when you say he was—”

“It was broken.” Your voice was hoarse. “He had a black eye.”

“I know, but when?”

“It was yesterday—no, sorry, Friday—”

“Still?” 

Still. That word made a bell ring faintly in your mind. Genesis belonged to Hollander’s team, and it was no secret that Hollander and Hojo didn’t get along. Nevertheless, Hollander’s SOLDIERs couldn’t, somehow, be more fragile than Hojo’s. At the very least, Hojo’s SOLDIERs healed quickly. Didn’t they both report to Lazard? And if that was the case…

“When did you fight?” you asked.

“Monday. Sometime in the afternoon.”

Sephiroth hit a First hard enough to bruise for five days straight.

Suddenly, you wanted nothing more than for him to stop touching you. 

Your eyes darted around the bathroom. Sephiroth asked something, but it was muffled, as if coming from far away. You had the odd sensation of floating, face-down, in the tub. He asked something again. You blinked at your knees. You thought of the studio audience laughing, Genesis’s pained glare as he stalked past you on Friday afternoon, the painted skull on the poster Sephiroth’s face. You thought of Angeal crying out in silence on your muted laptop.

When you came to, you were standing. Sephiroth was wrapping something warm and soft around you: a bathrobe, one far too long and baggy for you. Your skin was already dry. You looked back at the bathtub, but it was empty.

“The water was getting cold,” Sephiroth said. He was focused on tying the belt around your waist. From this angle, his long bangs whispered against your shoulders. “I didn’t want you getting sick on my account.”

“Wouldn’t want to waste my PTO,” you said. 

His eyes flicked up to yours. His expression was unreadable. “Come on.” He put a hand on your lower back. “Let’s get you out of this bathroom.”

He ushered you across the hall. You walked with him, or you’re sure you did, because when you blinked again, you were standing in front of the bed. Sephiroth’s arms snuck around your waist and undid the robe’s belt. As the robe slid down, Sephiroth bent forward and kissed the exposed skin of your shoulders: first left, then right. You shivered. He smiled against the crook of your neck. You could only think about how odd his mouth felt on your neck. You thought of the party again, of that boy’s cold and clammy lips on your skin. Sephiroth’s mouth felt the same way. The robe fell to the floor.

“Still with me?” he asked, his voice a low purr next to your left ear.

“Yes,” you lied.

“Good.” Sephiroth loosened your hair, ran his hands gently through it. You were sure it was lying awkwardly against your scalp now, but all you could think about were those large, warm, friendly hands meeting bone and cartilage. 

“Okay,” he said. “Stay still.”

He took your head between both of his palms and gently turned it to one side. You saw your frightened face in the bedroom’s full-length mirror. Your naked body looked pathetic next to his clothed one. Sephiroth wasn’t looking in the mirror, focused as he was on you. You met your own terrified eyes.

An image, clear as day, surfaced in your mind: Sephiroth twisting your neck with a sickening crack, leaving your skull hanging limply to one side—

“No!” you shouted, and your body moved. His hands left you: you weren’t sure if you pushed them away, or if he had taken them off of you.

You felt your own face in your hands, as if to confirm your skull was still there. The image wouldn’t leave your mind, and you wrung your hands, as if to flick it away from you. You stumbled to the bed and leaned over it, panting. 

It was a long time before you were able to stand up straight. You looked behind you, back at Sephiroth.

He blinked down at you. His hands were still in mid-air, his entire body stiff and unmoving. He looked lost. Regret burned in your chest. 

His voice was soft. “I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no—“ He had done nothing wrong. You sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing your arms over your bare chest. “I just…” You shook your head and hunched over, further hiding your body from his view. 

“Your neck seemed tight,” he offered. “I wanted to help—“

“Sorry,” you said, and you winced at how harsh your voice sounded. You purposely softened it. “I…I didn’t…” 

You trailed off. The impulse seemed stupid, now. Of course he wouldn’t break your neck. Of course he would be tender with you. Hadn’t his hands felt good earlier? He kept trying to initiate, and you wouldn’t let him. The room was spinning; you pressed your hands to your face.

He touched your shoulder. “I won’t touch you like that again,” he said, petting your skin tenderly. You despised it. “Would you prefer to lie down?”

That conjured a worse image. You shrugged off his touch. “No.”

The room was silent.

“I’m confused,” he said. “Would you like me to go into the other room?”

You shook your head. “No, it’ll…it’ll pass. Please, just…” You massaged your temples. “Give me a second?”

“This is about Genesis, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Pain arced through your chest, like lightning burning a tree from the inside-out. You weren’t sure what your outburst was about, other than your body betraying you for the umpteenth time. “I don’t…I’m not sure.”

Something rustled at your feet. Sephiroth’s hands appeared in your vision, offering you the crumpled bathrobe. You took it from him, but you made no move to put it on. Instead, it sat in your lap, all balled up like you had been in the tub. You worried at a loose thread. How much had this cost? Or was this free, too?

“Why don’t I get you a glass of water?” Sephiroth asked.

“Okay,” you said to the robe.

You watched, blankly, as Sephiroth straightened up and walked for the door. You looked down at the robe again.

“It’s stupid,” you said to the floor, to your bare feet on the carpet.

“What is?”

“I thought…” You pressed your thumbs to your eyes until you saw stars. You shouldn’t have said anything. “I thought….s-something…bad was gonna happen.”

“Why?”

You opened your eyes again. Sephiroth was halfway out of the room, lingering in the doorway: just turned to you, as if you had caught him mid-action. He rested his hand on the doorframe.

You sighed. “I saw…” You threw your hands up. “Seph, it really is stupid.”

His expression was tender, expectant. “No it isn’t.” He gestured at you. “Go ahead.”

“Do you…?” You had to get this out; he wasn’t going to let it go. It felt like you were at the front of the classroom, being mocked by the teacher for passing notes. “Okay.” You took a deep breath. “Do you remember…those, um, those…?” You snapped your fingers. “What are they called.”

Sephiroth smiled. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Ugh. Like those…s-stupid promo…videos or whatever.”

He inclined his head. “You’re…” He laughed and shook his head. “Going to have to be more specific.”

“The promo one! Where you and Angeal fought!” you blurted. “From ’96.”

“Which one?”

Which one? How many of these awful videos were there? Sephiroth driving his sword into Angeal, the blood in the grass, ad infinitum, on thousands of blurry screens. “The one where you, like.” You mimed stabbing someone at your feet.

He tapped his finger against the doorframe as he thought. “Ah,” he said finally, face brightening in that way you thought you were fond of. “Yes, that was a good fight.” He turned to face you, jamming his hands in his pant pockets. “Why do you ask?”

Nausea turned your stomach at how calm, even eager, he looked to discuss it. You dug your fingers into the comforter. “I, um…it. It came up in my recommended videos and I…it…”

He inclined his head towards you, silently urging you on.

“Scared me,” you whispered.

He startled. “Scared you? What about it scared you?”

“Like…just—“ You stared at the carpet. “With Genesis, and— and the— videos— I thought what if I make him mad and—“ You covered your face. “And when you held my head I was like he could just—“

You had his full attention now. You waved at him. “Seph, it was…” You sighed and put your face in your hands. “I told you,” you muttered. “Stupid.”

“Did you think I would hurt you?” he said, and his voice was small. Afraid. You never wanted him to sound like that again. You shouldn’t have said anything.

“Yes,” you sighed into your hands. “I’m sorry.”

You felt the bed dip: he had crossed the room to sit next to you. “May I hold you?”

This, you could do. You could always let him hold you.

You wanted him to.

You wordlessly turned and pressed your forehead to his shirt. He folded you into his arms, leaning over you: his warmth, his body, everything that made you feel safe and familiar and loved. Though the angle was awkward (and immediately undid his hard work back in the tub), you felt blessed relief. His hair, soft and familiar, draped over your shoulders, whispered past your cheek.

You felt, rather than heard, his voice: “I will never do that to you.”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up,” you whispered into his shirt. He rubbed soothing circles into your back.

“No, it—“ He sighed with exasperation. “I thought you had seen those.”

“I’ve only been here for nine months,” you said into his chest. “I just don’t really pay attention to that sort of thing.”

“Oh?” he said. “That must be why you’re so normal.”

“Shinra only hires you if you’re nuts.” You pressed your ear to his shirt, just to hear the steady thmp-thmp of his heartbeat again. “It— it was in my hiring packet, at least.”

“I must have missed that clause. Here.” He released you and gestured to the robe. “You’re going to catch cold. Seriously. Put something on.”

You twisted your mouth. “Thought you wanted me undressed,” you mumbled.

Sephiroth suddenly laughed, full-throated and loud. You jumped. “Maybe later,” he said above you. “But not now. I’m starving.”

The food. “Oh!” you said, looking up at him. “I still owe you. I— I left most of it—” You pinched your index and thumb together. “I tried to eat, like, just a little of everything—”

He bumped shoulders with you before standing. “I told you,” he said, his voice trailing off as he stretched. You heard his joints crack. “A detailed review is payment enough.”

You stood up to dress, but Sephiroth was halfway out the door again. “Come on,” you said to his retreating back. “Let me throw you a couple thousand gil. Please?”

“It was a gift.” He disappeared into the kitchen beyond. “Did you eat yet?” he called.

You shifted from foot to foot. Before you could catch yourself, you looked towards the full-length mirror again, at your reflection. You had to roll up the sleeves of the robe to cross your arms properly. The old temptation to lie caught on your tongue in this place: you could say you were stuffed, really, you were. You could lure him back to bed and let him do what he wanted with you, as if letting him inside of you would make your brain stop screaming for help. At the very least, those cold, clammy kisses on your shoulder had made everything go completely still.

“No,” you said to your reflection. “I’m starving.”

“Then come out here and join me already.”

“In...this robe?”

Sephiroth laughed. The noise carried across the kitchen tile. “Yes, in your robe. There’s no dress code here.” He was rummaging around and fussing already. “We’ve done worse on these counters.”

You felt embarrassed at the memory, but that feeling of safety flared in you again. You looked down at yourself, making sure the robe was secured around your waist. After some hesitation, you pressed the bathrobe to your nose and inhaled deeply. The fluffy, baby-soft terry fabric smelled like him.

You shuffled out into the hall beyond. Sephiroth leaned against his kitchen counter, staring in concern at his phone. He chewed his bottom lip.

“Seph?” you asked.

He looked up at you, and there was something stern, even dire, in his face. You held your breath. What could you have done to anger him? Was something wrong?

“I’ve invoiced you for your share of the bill,” he said, voice grave. “You had better check your phone.”

“Oh.” You pat the robe’s pockets, but they were empty. “Shit.” You cast around for your phone; it was on the countertop, still plugged into your charger. “Let me—” There was a new notification from the Shinra messaging app sitting at the top of your home screen. “I think I get paid next week—”

“I don’t mind waiting,” Sephiroth said, still entirely serious, and you read the notification:

ShinPay User s1979 has requested 1 gil!

You groaned. Sephiroth threw back his head and laughed.

“Really?” You slumped into one of the bar chairs as he wiped tears from his eyes. “Really? You could have just told me to get you next time.”

He smirked and pushed himself up off the counter. “Ah,” he said, still watching you as he opened the fridge, “but then you’d never listen to me.” 

“Is everyone using ShinPay now?” You dismissed the notification. After a moment, you silenced your phone, too, and you put it face-down on the countertop for good measure. “Am I getting old?”

“Every minute. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.” Sephiroth placed each takeout container on the counter. “I feel myself age every time my infantry shows me some new cat video.”

You leaned your cheek against the heel of your hand. “Just cat videos, specifically?”

“Some of them just aren’t funny,” he said to the fridge, and his tone was so petulant you laughed.

“Every time the new semester started at GU, I felt, like, a million years old.” You watched him heap noodles and rice onto clean plates. “It was like a nightmare where I just aged and aged, and everyone just kept getting younger around me.”

“I could use you in my company. Some of this slang is just…” Sephiroth shook his head as he placed a plate in the microwave.

“I know, but do you really want to talk like your cadets?”

Sephiroth gave you a desperate look, nose wrinkling with horror and disgust as he did so, and you giggled. 

He turned back to the microwave. “I’ve got hot pepper somewhere,” he said to it, almost thoughtfully.  “I ought to pile it on your food.”

The microwave chimed, and Sephiroth switched the plates. You crossed your arms against the countertop. “And what if I liked spicy food?”

Sephiroth handed you the plate he had just heated; the ceramic was white-hot under your hands. He gave you that affectionate smirk again. “Then I’ll make sure I’ve got hot pepper available.”

He had given you far too much food, as always: curry sauce dribbled into the fried rice, chicken mingled with shrimp. The food hissed and popped from the microwave. The abundance of it touched you, just as much as the bath, and the massage oil, and the tender hug, and the words of encouragement.

When he sat next to you with his own plate, you nudged his calf with your foot. He raised his eyebrows as he looked down at you.

“Thanks, Seph.” 

He seemed to know you weren’t talking about the food. His eyes softened, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead. This time, his mouth was just as warm and soft as you remembered.

“Don’t mention it,” he said against your skin. “I’m here for you.”

—

You watched from the living room as Sephiroth loaded the dishwasher. When he straightened up and dried his hands off on his sweatpants, you spoke up again. “Come back to bed?”

He looked at you as if he had forgotten you were there. “Are you sure?”

If anything, he looked more unsure than you did. “Just to cuddle,” you said, and you looked down and away. You fiddled with the bathrobe. “I’ll…put on my pajamas and come sit with you.”

“I can do that,” he said softly. “The bed or the couch? We can always watch a movie.”

Your reply was immediate. “Bed.” You added, “It’s so much bigger than mine at home.”

He smiled at you from under his lashes and nodded towards the bedroom. “Plenty of time to enjoy it before you go tomorrow.”

—

Once you were dressed again, you brought the robe back into the bathroom and hung it up. Sephiroth was waiting for you in bed, lying on his side. He had taken his shirt off. You instinctively reared back, until you saw the waistband of his sweatpants, just peeking out from under the comforter. 

He lifted the sheets next to him in invitation. Yes, he was wearing his sweatpants still: he wasn't going to force you. “Come here.”

You crawled into bed next to him, snuggled close under the covers. Sephiroth held you tightly to his chest, letting out a satisfied sigh. He was all warmth and solid muscle and pale skin. You nuzzled gratefully into his collarbone. He bowed his head, pressed his nose to your hair and breathed in deep.

“So…” you started.

“So.”

“What’s with the voices you do?”

Sephiroth’s rumbling voice reverberated against your cheek: “The ones telling you to quit your job and kill your boss?”

You rolled your eyes. “Never mind.”

“No, no.” A gentle hand stroked through your hair. “Enlighten me. What voices?”

“You do these…” You looked down at your nails. Your cuticles, normally dry and cracking, were so much softer. The massage oil had likely softened your skin. “The impression of Hojo, I mean. You did it so well.”

Sephiroth’s hand paused, and he laughed. “What do you mean?” You felt him shift to look down at you. “You only heard the one voice.”

“You can do more?”

He shrugged. “Just about anyone you can think of,” he replied. 

You traced the length of his side with your eyes. “How? How do you do it, I mean.”

He rolled over to lie on his back, one arm still wrapped around your shoulders, as if he was reluctant to let you go. You rested your cheek against his pectoral muscle and looked out the window with him. It was still pouring outside, the rain hitting the window in irregular tap-tap-taps.

Finally, he shook his head. “It just comes out of me. I’m not sure why. The lab assistants…” He laughed, covered his face. “They used to scream at me for it. Said it was unnatural. I think someone tried to get it banned.” 

You looked up at him. “It’s a little uncanny. It sounds like the person’s inside of you, shouting up.” You clutched at your throat and pointed at the ceiling to demonstrate. “Like, out of your mouth.” 

Sephiroth wrinkled his nose as he returned his arm to your shoulders. “Oh, god,” he said. “I certainly hope not.”

“Really?” With a fingertip, you drew aimless shapes on his chest. "You can imitate anyone?”

“Sure. Try me.”

“I’m…scared to ask what I sound like.”

Sephiroth’s face contorted with embarrassment. “Oh,” he said. “I’ve never tried.” He looked out of the window again. “I don’t wish to offend you.”

“That bad?”

“Of course not. But…” He laughed, tilted his head this way and that. “I learned that people aren’t…appreciative of it, let’s say.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Did someone get mad at you for it?”

“Of course.” He scratched the bridge of his nose. “There was a bigger guy named Samuel in my troop fifteen years ago. He used to annoy me. Such a big, brutish kid. Always cruel. We were waiting our turn to run a simulation. He jumped the line and pushed me against the wall.” 

Sephiroth’s voice changed into a brutish, unfamiliar growl: “Watch it, freak.” 

You could picture Samuel perfectly: a shaved head, broad shoulders, a pathetic, wispy mustache highlighting a permanent scowl. “And what did you do?”

Sephiroth let his head fall back against the pillow. “I said it back to him, just like that, and he knocked me out.” He smiled and looked at you out of the corner of his eye. “It was worth it to hear everyone laugh.”

Your eyes widened. You sat up. “You got concussed?”

Sephiroth shrugged. “I was fine. I was a smaller kid, so that hit laid me flat.” He rolled onto his right side, towards you, and propped himself up on his elbow. “I was more disappointed about missing the exercise.”

You rested your head on your pillow. Everything Sephiroth said opened more questions. You wanted, so badly, to ask about his training. You wanted to hear how young he was when Shinra pushed him onto the field. His eyes traveled over your face as you watched each other.

“Can you do Angeal?” you asked.

“Oh, please.” He smirked and took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was replaced by Angeal’s: “I get that we could save an hour by taking a taxi, but I would prefer we walk. It’s a nice day outside, and we could use the exercise. Cabs are so expensive these days.”

You clutched at your hair in exaggerated surprise. “What?! Seph. How?!”

Sephiroth laughed. “Here, you want Genesis?” Another deep breath, and this time, Genesis’s voice left his mouth: “Loveless, Act Fifteen, Verse 3: And should the sun rise again on another morrow.” Sephiroth raised his arm to the ceiling, eyes turning upwards in a perfect impression of fine art. “You will hear me recite this again, from the beginning.” 

You giggled. Sephiroth grinned at you as he lowered his arm. You choked out, “You are so…so mean!”

“Believe me, they hate it.” 

You slapped his chest playfully. “You have to do me. Come on.”

He suddenly withdrew his arm. He rolled over and pulled the comforter up over his body, leaving you partially exposed to the air. “Good night,” he mumbled.

“Don’t ignore me!” You shook his shoulder. “Please? I won’t be mad.”

He yanked the comforter over his head. “I can’t hear you. I’m asleep.”

“Pretty please?” You draped yourself over his body. “Pleeeease?” Hanging upside-down over his head, you tugged the edge of the comforter away from his face; his glowing eyes peered back at you in the dark. “I won’t be mad,” you said to them. “I promise I won’t.”

“Someone’s persistent.” His voice was muffled by the fabric.

“It’s not super mean, is it?”

Sephiroth shifted under you, and you rolled off of him as he sat up again. “For you?” He shook his head as he rearranged the pillows under him and leaned back. “Never.”

You laid back down on top of him. His fingers traced the curve of your cheeks with a painful fondness. You’d never get tired of his unnatural warmth, especially when the rain outside poured so heavily. You thought, again, of your steam heater, of the bloody nose you got on Monday, while you slept. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him; you draped one leg over his. Sephiroth made a little noise at your cool feet pressing against his legs, right where the sweatpant cuffs had ruched up to expose more skin. 

You gave him what you thought was your best hopeful look. He stared at you for a moment, took a deep breath-- 

“Fine,” he sighed. He ran his hand through his hair, then beckoned to you. “Give me something to say.”

You...hadn’t thought that far ahead. You cast around the room; the textbook was still sitting next to the leather armchair. “Maybe my research?” you asked.

“Doesn’t have to be your research.” He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “You could even describe the weather.”

“I feel like…” You rubbed the back of your neck. “My research will give you more material?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you’d like. Try me.” He rested his hand against his belly, so near to your shoulders.

“Let me do…the elevator pitch? How’s that?” Tried-and-true: you could recite your research proposal in your sleep.

Sephiroth smiled and raised his eyebrows at you. When you didn’t speak immediately, he nodded encouragingly: Go on.

“So…” You tried to speak slowly. “My team focuses on mako and its influence on cell growth and repair. Previous studies have isolated the protein MAT-beta in the liver, which manages oxidative—”

Sephiroth’s eyebrows furrowed. “A little slower?”

You smiled back. Just like you to rush, anyway. “Sorry. Okay.” You took in a deep breath and tried to enunciate each word. “My team studies the influence of mako on cell growth and repair. Keep going?”

“My team—” The voice was too high, too clear: a SOLDIER’s command. He cleared his throat. “No. Wait a second.” He tried again, and his next attempt was still strange to your ears: “My team studies the—” He tilted his head and beckoned again. “One more time, please?”

“My team studies the influence of—”

“My team studies the influence of—”

“—mako on cell growth and repair.”

As he repeated each phrase, his voice shifted, croaked, stretched. You heard many different people, none of them you, but each, conceivably, somewhere between your timbre and Sephiroth’s. “My team—” A shift, a minute crack in his voice. “—studies—” Another shift, this one lower. “—the influence—” 

And finally: “My team studies the influence of mako on cell growth and repair.” A perfect mirror, like listening back to an old video of yourself. Uncanny.

Your eyes widened, and you drew back from him. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Sephiroth said back, in your voice. “Is that, like, a good ‘oh’? Or…I’m sorry.” He waved a hand. “Just forget I said anything.”

And despite the uncanniness, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. It was so him to remember how you spoke. You remembered, again, that he had been thinking of you during his mission.

“Ugh!” you said, playfully wrinkling your nose at him. “I really sound like that?”

He lifted his head from the pillow with wide, disbelieving eyes. “You asked!” he laughed.

“No! It’s amazing! You have a missed calling as an actor, Seph.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind it— not when he was still smiling at you like that. “The public outcry to my Sector One Live performance says otherwise.”

Of all the videos you had watched, that one had somehow eluded you. “When were you on Sector One Live?”

“A few months ago.” His hand drifted across the comforter, towards your hands: slow, tentative.“You would have thought I destroyed the set. Reena wouldn’t stop reading reviews to me—” He closed his eyes. “Look at me, assuming you know everything. I meant my publicist, Reena.”

“What did you do about it?”

His hand inched incrementally closer. “Nothing I could do,” Sephiroth replied. He looked up at the ceiling. “So…I never did it again.”

You reached out and took his hand in both of yours. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“Seph?”

He didn’t open his eyes. “Yeah?”

You drifted your fingers across the back of his hand. “In some of the interviews I saw, you didn’t…look…very happy.”

The jovial environment between you evaporated. Sephiroth turned his head away from you and stared out of the window again. You could see the two of you reflected there: faint shadows against the driving rain. His mouth twitched.

“Did you want to do them?” you whispered.

Sephiroth’s mouth twitched again. He removed his arm from your shoulders, let go of your hand.

He rose. “Let me close those curtains,” he said. Hesitating on the edge of the bed, he added, “The windows are mirrored, but…you know.” He flashed you a smile over his shoulder, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. “No free shows.”

“No free shows,” you repeated. “Right.”

As Sephiroth crossed the room, you looked away from him, to the half-open closet doors. Hidden inside was that strange photo. You played with the comforter between your fingers. It would be inappropriate to ask about it now, not when Sephiroth seemed to retreat back into some dark, quiet place, hiding from you. The curtains squealed as he pulled them shut.

For a long time, Sephiroth stood there at the window, clutching the curtains hard in both hands. He turned his head, just enough for you to see his quiet expression. He was looking at the ground, at a precarious stack of books near the leather armchair.

“I thought I followed instructions,” he said, as if to himself. “How am I meant to behave when everyone’s looking at me like that?”

“For what it’s worth,” you offered, “You make me laugh.”

A pause.

Sephiroth turned back to you. “Probably time for me to turn in.” He was wearing that absent smile again. “You’re welcome to join me, but if not, I have a reading lamp you can use.”

You glanced towards his alarm clock, and—

“It’s ten already?” you asked. “Shit.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.” 

You had forgotten that he had just come straight from work, straight into your arms, straight into a—

A panic attack.

“Oh, Seph.” You backed away from his side of the bed and winced. “You had such a long day. ‘M sorry.” 

The absent smile turned wry. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

You had the urge to hold him close, to cradle his head against your chest, as you had done the week before. You opened your mouth—

“Ah.” He snapped his fingers. “Laundry.” He gave you an exasperated look, touching his forehead briefly. “I almost forgot. I must finally be losing it.”

It all came back in a rush: the tights were still in the dryer. You sat up in bed. “Wait,” you said, “I still—” 

But Sephiroth was already halfway out of the room. You swung your legs over the edge of the mattress. Your voice was a weak, half-hearted bleat: “I have stuff in there—”

“I’ve got it,” he said gently. “I’ll put them in your bag.”

Your feet hadn’t even touched the carpet before he was gone. You heaved a sigh and crawled back under the covers. There was some jealous part of you that hated how Sephiroth got to surprise you first. You hadn’t been able to return the favor. 

The moment the thought hit you, you recoiled with disgust. What were you doing? Why did you think of him this way? What prompted this ugly, impulsive side in you?

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, let the smell of his apartment wash over you. He was safe. He was being kind. You appreciated everything he had done. You would surely pay him back eventually. You could buy some other surprise for him. You repeated the thoughts to yourself, over and over: he’s safe he’s kind you’re safe you can pay him back later he’s safe he’s—

“Oh,” sighed Sephiroth from the kitchen. “What a shame.”

You sat up again. “What? What’s wrong?”

The rustle of fabric. “I think the dryer ate your clothes.”

Dread sunk its claws into your belly. It looked like you would have to buy something else for him. “Oh, no.”

“I’ll show you.” Footsteps, and then Sephiroth appeared in the doorway.

And—

He was holding the tights. They were intact.

Oh, no.

To your mortification, Sephiroth held out the tights for you to inspect. “These seem ripped,” he said sadly. “I’m afraid the dryer isn’t the most—”

“Seph, no,” you blurted. “They came like that.”

He blinked and looked down at the tights. “Oh.”

And then, as you watched, his eyes went wide. A blush started at the tips of his ears and crept down his neck, under the collar of his shirt. He looked up at you. He cleared his throat.

“Oh,” he said.

Whatever reaction you expected, it wasn’t that one. You wrung your hands in your lap. “Yeah, it was…supposed to be a nice surprise.”

Sephiroth bunched the tights against his chest. His mouth had a funny turn to it, and it wasn’t until you saw his deerlike, stricken expression, how he stared just past your left ear instead of meeting your eye, that you realized it wasn’t disgust, or even just embarrassment. 

It was want: boyish, mortified desire, something vulnerable and desperate. Like you were special. 

The urge to hold him close hit you all over again. You couldn’t let anyone else have him. You couldn’t. The Silver Elite would destroy him; they would tear him to pieces, like ravenous animals. Any other man who had touched him hadn’t appreciated this tenderness, else they’d become just like you: a possessive little creature, completely and utterly his.

You smiled gently at him; his eyes fell to the tights. You took a deep breath. “I…take it you like them?”

His voice came out in a breathless rush: “I’m cursing Heidegger’s entire department right now.”

“Sorry you couldn’t see them in action.”

Sephiroth turned his head away from you, hiding his face. He cleared his throat. “You’ll have to wear them next time.” His voice cracked on wear them.

Go to next chapter >>>

[powderblueblood]

GETTING TO KNOW YOUR EDDIE

— the 411 on the loser playboy of the midwestern world

Tagged by @jo-harrington & @deathbecomesthem who got this stunning prompt on the road, love this love youse

let’s talk MUNSON!

What story is he from? What kind of story is it (Fix-it fic, Older!Eddie, Rockstar!Eddie etc)? The Eddie darling that takes up prime real estate in my brain is of course Hellfire & Ice Eddie, which is a teen romantic-dramadey with sprinkles of crime capers on top. We meet him at 18 years of age, drug dealin’, Dungeon wheelin’, at the absolute top of his bottom of the food chain game. He’s all raw nerve and engine sputter, our consummate not ready for prime time player. He is brassy, ballsy, funny, terrified.

What inspired you to write this Eddie? Flight of Icarus, actually! It reignited my initial love for him by basically confirming what I had already known to be true—he’s a little bitch that’ll take any opportunity to be struck down lovesick and he’s doomed by his bloodline.

What are your favorite headcanons about him/share something you never shared in your story? Eddie runs on a full tank of defiance, just burning rubber against what’s expected of kids his age—but to zoom in? Eddie sometimes wonders what it would be like if he was different. Tried harder. Cut his hair, joined the basketball team, really pulled himself up by his bootstraps and divorced himself from his stain of a last name. Folded in and blended, made all the right moves. Why couldn’t I do that? he thinks, Just pretend. I’m good at making shit up. But that’s selling out. And Eddie Munson is no sell out—rap sheet or no, his life is his own.

What does he wear on a casual day? On a dressier day? What does he wear to bed? Casual day, it’s your cartoon character stock costume of insert band t-shirt here, ripped jeans there, doubled up battle vest and leather cut to top it all off. There might be a variant in jean shade but that’s it. He likes to stick to a look. The dressiest he’ll go (he does not own dressy clothes) is a black cable knit sweater, very old, with the thumb holes worried through the cuffs. To bed, preferably nothing, but boxers of absolutely necessary and a very old, ratty pair of flannel PJ bottoms and an old t-shirt or a faded sweatshirt of Wayne’s if it’s freezing.

Favorite foods? This FUCK loves a pizza with the most fuckass toppings. Anchovy, black olive, pepperoni, sweetcorn (for the vitamins!), pineapple (for the jizz thing!) all on the one pie. But he can cook, to an extent, and we unfortunately have to hand this to ex-line cook Al who taught him how to grill a cheese and make a bitchin’ spaghetti with honeyed tomato gravy and lots of oregano. Eddie also loves a snack he can gesticulate with, see: Twizzler, corn dog, ice pop. Bordering on phallic foods.

Tell Us About His Family/Friends: Immediately in the gene pool—Al, the absent and up-to-no-good father who somehow still has a knife in Eddie’s side and will twist it with the simple words, “C’mon, that’s my boy!” Wayne, uncle and father figure, silent but loving and the only real pillar Eddie could ever lean against, and he feels like such a burden for it sometimes. Elizabeth, mommy dearest and dead, canonised like a saint in Eddie’s mind, and might have been but also might not have been. The root of his love of music and his need to tell stories to survive. The found-by-the-hand-of fate family— Ronnie Ecker, the Stalter to his Waldorf, the Bonham to his Page, the only person he’d ever follow into battle because you wouldn’t think it but Ronnie, who is secretly rage akimbo, would accidentally lead that charge. He loves her like a sister, she loves him like a dog. Just kidding. Maybe. He wants to be Ronnie Ecker when he grows up. Granny Ecker comes as part of this deal, one of the people credited with whooping Eddie into shape. We don’t quite know what shape yet, it’s Picassoan in nature. Then, the extension again that is the great Corroded Coffin/Hellfire crossover event—Jeff, Cyrus, Dougie and Gareth. He’s not quite as close with the boys, but they’re good boys. They love and fear him, except for Cyrus who is a true enigma which pisses Eddie off because he’s supposed to be the fucking enigma here, dammit.

Yeah Yeah, he's a Metalhead. Tell Us MORE About His Taste in Music in your story: We are working off Flight of Icarus rules so he’s got a taste in the mouth for Howlin’ Wolf style blues, real down and dirty Detroit shit. He also loves a sleazeball, so enter Tom Waits and when he’s feeling REALLY sentimental, Leonard Cohen. Eddie loves to bite a thumb so he has some punk spinning too—Richard Hell, MC5, The Cramps, and reluctantly Iggy and the Stooges. They’re Al’s favourite so kind of tainted. Last but not least, I think that Johnny Cash’s Live From Folsom Prison album gets a lot of play. Particularly Cocaine Blues and Dark in the Dungeon, which he’s definitely incorporated into some campaign. He does NOT listen to CHICK MUSIC because he’s a loser boy (Wayne has a Linda Ronstadt record that makes him cry).

What are his views on romance? On sex? Eddie Munson falls in love fourteen times a day because at the be all and end all, he’s an artist and he’s sensitive as shit. Let’s get one thing straight—he can flirt to beat the band, once anyone gives him the time of day. Which they don’t. But in his mind? He’s a silver tongued Casanova. It’s just easier to use on people he hates. Once he has a crush, he has an obsession, even if he’s oftentimes too chickenshit to act on it. Cue pulling pigtails in the playground routine. He wants so badly to worship someone and be worshipped in return, okay, it’s reciprocal worshipping—give him mutual pathological obsession or give him DEATH. He wants to build a shrine, and will, to the right person. He’ll preoccupy his mind with every detail about them to the point where, yeah, it is borderline kind of stalkery but he’s still 18 years old. Speaking of, sex? Yeah, he’s done it. Badly. He’s like to do it again, goodly. He’d like to do it with someone that wasn’t treating it like an experiment, someone who’d let him slobber all over them and rut and keen and whine like the hound in heat he fucking feels like. He has no goddamn control! He experiences pleasure in a total headrush, never been able to stay cool and sexy and commanding a day in his life. He just wants, wants, wants and he burns so hot. Eddie wants so clumsily that it comes out at the most inappropriate times, like the nurse’s office after he gets his fist busted. He’s not some sex god, just some dick with an overeager cock. But he sure is willing to put in the work.

Is he optimistic or pessimistic? Pessimistic on the surface, the life is shit and then you die so might as well do some whippits poster boy but so so secretly, Eddie holds the tiniest flame of hope that someday, somehow, things will get better. At the very least easier. That he’ll grow into his bones somehow, or someone will help soothe him into them. That he’ll feel some kind of belonging. Because he does want that, really. Some soft place to land.

Where or with whom is he most comfortable? Those pockets of alchemy at Hellfire Club when he’s got a rapt audience. With Ronnie, sitting on the sagging couch outside his trailer. Playing chauffeur to a certain princess across-the-way.

What are his views of his future? What are his hopes/dreams? Pie in the sky? Cover of Circus with his cheeks out, duh. A Grammy or two, his own metal club, a published fantasy author, shit. He’s not askin’ for the world, here! But honestly, Eddie’s view of his future is 18 year old misanthropist bleak. He hasn’t even considered college as an option, not that he’d get there with his grades. He figures he might just start selling full time for Rick once (if) he graduates then hopefully have the good enough sense to take his money and split to Chicago or someplace. Might hit it lucky when he’s played in a couple more iterations of Corroded Coffin and con someone into letting him be a session guitarist—which wouldn’t be the cover of Circus, but would still be a huge deal! But as much as an ego game as he likes to talk, he’s got this terrible, looming feeling that he’ll never leave Hawkins alive.

What do you imagine his future looks like? (If your story is incomplete or if this would be a spoiler you're not willing to share, you can skip this question.) I’ll give you a couple details, because I am writing a sequel about this. Picture a brief stint in Indianapolis. Meaner, grizzlier, bartender-ier, going on a decade of heartbreak, performing at his sexual best but nearing burnout and about to turn 30 with some side dealings at home that are edging out of the side and into the forefront. Heavy is the hand that wears the ring. You look so much like your father!

Anything else you'd like us to know about your Eddie/your story? He is so full of love and piss and vinegar. He is going to end up cherished. Like, violently so.

Optional Vulnerable Question: Why do you write fics for Eddie Munson? I love a tragedy touched smartass who folds at the first sign of affection. I want to nourish him and eat him up like the witch from Hansel and Gretel. Or have Lacy do it for me, whatever.

tagging: YOU. READING THIS. Not KIDDING IF YOURE READING THIS GET TO WORK

[yuujispinkhair]

Hi so I love your poly works and I just wanted to pick your brain regarding these poly relationships: sukuna x y/n x gojo, gojo x y/n x nanami, idk how you would feel about megumi x y/n x gojo, and lastly megumi x y/n x sukuna. Like I feel all of them would all be protective of y/n, but I love to hear your thoughts.

Yay I am so happy you enjoy my poly stories 💗💗 I really love writing those. The more love the better 💗💗 Ooohh you have some dynamics I haven't thought about, but I'll try think of something for all of them:

Sukuna x Reader x Gojo: Super fun and super intense 💗💗Maybe two rival CEO's who have a love/hate relationship with each other. They always have this competition over who is more successful and better and blah blah blah but it always ends in one of them dicking the other down. And one day they run into you at some business event they both attend. A new competition begins... this time which of them can seduce you first, fuck you better, make you cum more times etc. But what they don't realize is that they love this whole dynamic so much that they would miss it extremely if it ever ended. And you are the one who tells them to just admit they are into each other too, and that's how you end up in a poly relationship. They still bicker all the time, but you always make them kiss and say something nice to each other when they do. And they both are super protective over you. If anyone even dares look at you in a strange way Gojo and Sukuna become all threatening and scare everyone off 💗💗 I really love this tbh!! Lately I ship Gosuku or Sukugo a lot, so this would be a really fun thing to me!!

Gojo x Reader x Nanami: The playful, boyish and rich guy + the serious and mature man. I love that because you would get the best of both worlds. And you and Gojo can team up to tease Nanamin ;) Or you and Nanami team up to brat-tame a certain white-haired idiot you both are in love with ;)

Megumi x Reader x Gojo: I never thought about it, but I could see it as a fun dynamic. I would probably write it as Gojo and Reader being a thing and you both are open to threesomes and Gojo always wanted to get Megumi to open up more and let himself enjoy things, and so he has that plan for the two of you to seduce him. It could be a college setting maybe? Gojo and Megumi are coworkers, both teaching the same courses and Gojo never gets tired of teasing Megumi about his lack of experience. (Only to find out that Megumi is actually having more sex than Gojo, he just doesn't brag about it lmao). What starts as a purely sexual thing turns into more because you think Megumi is super nice beneath his aloof mask, and Gojo always had a weakness for his pretty coworker. I think it would be similar to the Gojo x Reader x Nanami dynamic. Because Megumi's a pretty serious character too.

Megumi x Reader x Sukuna: I once wrote a story with Megumi x Yuuji x Sukuna and I would just insert Reader as Yuuji's role. So Sukuna and Megumi and Reader are all in a loving relationship. Megumi and Sukuna are both rich, both CEO's of old family businesses. You are from a poorer background, maybe working at a coffee shop or just going to college etc.. It's a very loving and comforting relationship for all three of you. Megumi and Sukuna see you as their precious darling who brings love and joy into their busy and boring lives and so they spoil you rotten. They love to buy things for you, they love to team up to take care of you in bed. You have four strong arms to fall into. And they have the comfort of being able to let go of their stressful lives once they are home with you.

[weebsinstash]

Something that has been on my mind throughout this whole Yandere! Miguel O’Hara, is the idea of a Spider-Girl Gabriella O’Hara in another reality that lost her dad in that reality, her canon event, that made her become Spider-Girl, and Miguel (Earth-928B) becoming a Yandere parent. He lost his baby girl once, he’s not going to loose her again.

The problem with that in of terms of like me writing is, I prefer when the focus of my stories is the reader insert character and that would kind of be basically sort of making an OC just about, but I've definitely thought about like, yandere Miguel and friends looking after a Reader who may be still growing up or, Miguel is in his 30s or 40s so even a Reader in their 20s can still be a sort of student with him (I'm 26 ok let me live, I'm still considered young right 🥺🥺🥺 I need to be someone's baby girl too 🥺🥺🥺)

I keep gravitating back to "Miguel who lost his wife and child x reader who was spiderwoman 2099 who lost her Miguel and child and both of you did the whole tried to replace my family thing" and also like, imagine Miguel bonding with you because you can relate to his experiences more personally and intimately than anyone else and one day a second Miguel shows up and unlike "the main one" MiguelDos DID have a version of you as a partner and he's trying to convince you to come home with him. Like imagine your Miguel is so incredibly attached and protective of you and he sees you're spending a suspicious amount of time with the new version of him and, yeah he's jealous, but he's worried about potential consequences so he goes to talk to you and before he can, you start first, "Miguel, the other you has to go, he wants me to try and break canon and go home with him and--"

Miguel just being absolutely furious (not with you, never you) because you've been through a horribly traumatic experience and it is so strong and brave that you're still going (he would know, he's doing the same thing too) and now some copycat asshole is trying to sway you? Take you away? Miguel hears you say "he thinks because I don't have a home universe anymore that I exist outside my own canon and that I could come to his home universe and he wants a baby" and Miguel just sees RED

Maybe he even starts checking security footage and he can see that like, yeah Miguel2 has some sort of genuine affection for you but it's obvious he is also loakey manipulating you, trying to get you drunk and in bed, getting you tipsy to try and convince you to come with him, shit could you imagine Miguel 1 bursting into his/your shared office to see Miguel 2 basically trying to peel your clothes off while you're barely coherent if not outright unconscious

He'll beat the bastard bloody is what he'll do. Miguel had definitely developed his own obsession for you but for some random loser to be actively trying to use your pain for his own benefit, to try and BREAK CANON and kill everyone just to be selfish? He knows wanting to, but he's glad you came to him, trusting him enough to look up at him with tears in your eyes, "please, I can't take him being here, he's saying too much, he wants too much from me" because he knows it hurts, he doesn't know what to do if a carbon copy of his wife showed up begging for his love (although the more time he spends with you, the less he finds himself thinking about her and more about you)

Reader 2099 being devastated because since she lives in Miguel's dimension now but isn't FROM there she doesn't really have any documentation so she can't even try and adopt. Miguel realizing that, hey, maybe that other him of his had a point, maybe there IS a purpose for you becoming attached to Nueva York. It's not like moving on after a canon event is inherently changing one. Since he's already lost his daughter, and can't take someone else's, could he... make his own? But what if it breaks canon somehow? But the more he thinks about ìt and the more he gets closer to you the more he wants a fat chubby little baby of his own so fucking bad and he's just about ready to take a leap of faith with you and test this theory out

But yeah like, apparently the Spiderman canon events typically happen as teenagers so I've also thought of,you know, Reader being where they are in the template, a bullied high school kid with social isolation and issues at home. Miguel just minding his own business when a little birdy/spider whispers in his ear that "the new kid he's been looking after needs some help" and he goes to see and you're just sniffling and crying with a black eye because there are bullies at school. Or even worse, your black eye is from some attempt at a relationship, and you brush it off "oh no, they just lost their temper, it's MY fault they got so mad" and Miguel knows you don't have proper parental figures and he essentially adopts you. Miguel being especially weak to a female teen Reader though because, gosh, he wonders what his daughter would be like at your age, would the two of you have been friends, it's almost like helping to raise you helps heal the trauma of losing his little girl.

You have a Spanish class you struggle with and you're shyly asking Miguel, just offhandedly, "hey as a bilingual speaker do you have any tips 🥺 I'm really struggling and I feel dumb" and suddenly here's 'Tio Miguel' to help you. Any Spiders from your age group think they can make a move on you, they're mistaken and greeted by a towering glowering fatherly figure, and god forbid if he finds an older man being creepy with you, he will all but throw them into traffic

God this man has infested my brain so bad, I'm literally taking a t break from weed for like a week so I can treat myself by going to the ATSV in theaters since I've been so stressed and money finally isn't as tight and. Hhhhh I want to see a pretty movie with hot people and good music on the big screen 😩🥵❤️ by all means keep bugging me with any ideas or questions or feedback about ideas because I'm getting lost in the yandere spiderverse sauce

[river-muse]

What's Come to Pass?

That is by far the most dangerous of the WIPS that I listed for the ask game I swear. That's because this is uhhh very NASNAH related.

So, currently I don't have "What's Come To Pass" listed as canon to the timeline for NASNAH, but depending on how I'm feeling about it as we get further in the series I might actually go through with adding it.

BIG warning for NASNAH spoilers from here on out! I cannot separate character appearances or events well enough to not end up showing something important unintentionally. Read at your own risk! <3

So, before I've mentioned that things will still happen, but just in a different way compared to canon. What's Come To Pass is the boiling point of unresolved trauma turned into the DMC5 events but wrong. Vergil doesn't have a hand in the Qliphoth breaking through the veil in Red Grave, but he certainly doesn't help make matters easier because his brain thinks "If we can't stop this tree and another demon takes the fruit for themselves- there is a high chance they will put my family at risk again." And you know, a few decades still hasn't toned down his reckless decisions.

I can't show too much for excerpts, but I did pick out two of the safest ones even if it does reveal that a certain character doesn't die like in canon and another one makes an absolutely horrible choice for the sake of "necessity." There's definitely an ongoing theme about making decisions to take action on your own and those decisions having severe consequences for those who never had a say in it.

-

“I mean to ensure that my counterpart can claim the throne by any means.” V says “This has gone beyond a fanciful notion and is a close reality. In a month’s time the tree will bloom, and the fruit it shall bear will make Vergil king. Then there will be nothing that would dare bring harm to our family.” “At the cost of how many lives?” Credo questions. “That number’s inconsequential in the face of what could happen if anyone else were to take the throne. Sacrifices have to be made.” “Sacrifices?” Nero’s face twists up “Griffon, you’re going along with this? Where’s Shadow?” “She’s here with me, as well.” V raises his arm, gazing at the swirling markings “All four of us are in agreement. Turn around. Go back, because I can’t promise your safety if you earn his ire.” “Four?” Dante rests the point of Rebellion on the ground and leans on it “Last I checked you had a chicken and a cat. That makes three of you.” “I would prefer not to place all of my cards on the table, if you don’t mind.” “How disgraceful.” Credo’s upper lip curls just a bit, though his lack of fangs makes it less intimidating than intended “For someone such as you to ignore casualties for a selfish advantage-“ “Not the first time he’s done this.” Dante says “Raising towers to chase after power is a repeat offense for him apparently.” “The Temen-Ni-Gru was necessary.” V hisses. “Was it, really?” Dante asks.

-

“This wasn’t what we agreed upon, Urizen.” V’s voice is soft, breaking apart with the words “The boy was not to be harmed.” “He wouldn’t yield to what must be done.” Urizen responds “Come- they will be here soon, and it is unwise for a human as frail as you to insert yourself amidst this battle. It was foolish enough that you attempted to prevent this in the first place.” Nero’s vision blurs. He tries to reach for the vision of V passing him and only meets air. Faint whispered words of apology pass to him and they don’t process. He shakes off the darkness of unconsciousness to see V stepping up onto Urizen’s outstretched palm. Urizen lifts V up to a higher ledge just behind where Urizen is, only pulling away when V has himself settled.

-

There was one last excerpt that I had considered but it had too many things that I didn't want to show just yet. Thank you for asking about it if you read this far!

I've got brainworms and I regret nothing <3

[ciderwitch]

Wait, did I hear "Kabu kinks" because I'm down!

(I thirst for that fiery old man) *insert bad pun here about being hot and bothered*

You're darn tooting! Kabu - and Nanu to boot! 🔞

KABU'S KINKS

If you'd met him when he was younger, you'd have seen his more hot-blooded and intense self. He was more into quickies and fiery adrenaline-fueled sex after a battle. Outside of that, he was too focused on training and battling to take his time.

Now, he knows that patience can be its own reward and loves spending lots of time with his partner. He's into teasing and orgasm denial for both himself and his partner. He'll have you begging before he really gets serious and forces himself to hold out until you come first.

Bondage - Shibari, specifically. Kabu loves the precision and artistry of tying his partner up and puts a lot of value in the trust required for this. He is well-versed in a variety of knots and rigging. He wouldn't mind if his partner wanted to tie him up, too, though he would prefer not being suspended.

Sensory play! When he's got you tied up (or when you're just fooling around), he loves waxplay, ice, toys, feathers, and other sensations to heighten the sensory of intimacy. He wants to blindfold his partner and see how much he can make them fall apart. He's actually quite playful and tries to make sure intimacy is light-hearted.

Well-dressed kink. He's a classic man with classic tastes and he loves seeing his partner in something of good taste. Suit or dress, if you are done up the nines he just wants to get you home and make you a mess. Could tease this man at a league event or nice dinner just by the glances and quick touches you throw his way. Let it slip with that you're not wearing anything underneath (or that you have some of those ropes around you underneath your clothes) and some of that fiery nature might slip back in enough to have you on your knees in the bathroom!

Seriously, if you find the right buttons and push, you will find yourself shoved against the gym lockers with his cock drilling into you at absolutely unfair speeds. He'll be chastising you and talking mad dirty the whole time.

Not quite a daddy/master type or into punishment, but likes giving orders and doling out rewards.

It would embarrass him to admit this, but the idea of you playfully degrading him and/or financially domming him a little excites him. If you two discuss terms first and he trusts you, you could have this man getting himself off while you show off a new outfit you bought with his card.

KAHUNA NANU'S KINKS

I don't think Nanu would be a selfish lover. Nor would he be cold. He's just extremely careful about who he does and doesn't allow himself to get close to.

If you are one of the lucky few that reaches that point, you will find someone very dedicated to your satisfaction.

He's been in special forces and he's been around the world. He's met royalty, spies, soldiers, villains, and monsters... does he love it if you dress up? Sure! But his absolute favorite thing is casual intimacy. Seeing you comfortable with him and having a slow fuck on a rainy day together makes him very happy. His better mood when you're around is noticeable to everyone.

That being said...

He's got a possessive streak. Not as strong as someone like Emmet, but enough that he will not hesitate to pull you into a semi-public alley or beach-changing station and just have a quickie. Sometimes you wonder if he might actually want you to get caught by whoever was trying to take your attention away.

He trusts you. He also just wants to make sure everyone knows you belong to him.

Hard-core domesticity kink. He wants his partner to be independent and successful, but sprinkle in moments that show you care and he's gone. Jokingly tell other people he's your husband, make a holiday meal with him, wear a cute little apron, call the meowths your children... He is not a family man, never wanted to be and never thought he could, but something about the way you treat him like he deserves it makes him go nuts. If he was 10 years younger it might turn into a straight up breeding kink, but as he is now he just wants to bend you over the counter and let you know how he feels.

If you ever wore cat ears and a tail, you would catch him staring. His face would never betray how badly he is thinking about you wearing cat lingerie around the house and ignoring him.

Like, him begging to touch you or lend him a hand but you just open your legs and watch some porn and just looking at him with a smirk. He would never ask you to do this. You would only find out by accident if he was really drunk or left the wrong tab open.

He's not a selfish lover, but he really does love when his partner rides him. He'll still touch and pleasure them, he just likes to see how bad he's wanted, too.

Absolutely leers at you if he finds a new way to fluster you. Will not hesitate to do something in public because he knows how to be subtle enough to not get caught and embarrass you at the same time.

[acutecoral]

I'm thinking about Roier a little more, like...people have mentioned this before but just this man has been Spiralling for a while now and I deeply feel that when he ends up being pulled in to lore in the coming few days, it's going to be ugly

He was already vengeful when he was betrayed by his friends during those earlier days on the server, and that darkness only grew when Bobby died and when the Federation misled them to believe they could get Bobby back. There may be more events, but these ones are the ones peeps tend to reference back to *insert across the spiderverse sound effect*

Anyways

I was thinking about Roier because when it comes to how Cellbit's character arc could be resolved, I was thinking of grounding points; the thing that could be used to anchor him back from the path he's taking. I was thinking people like Pac, Bagi, the Eggs, his friends and family that worry for him, that would be horrified by how much he's hurting himself for them. If he gets shown and reminded about what's at stake...possibly, possibly we can see him start making his way around to something more stable, something more grounded.

But for Roier? I'm drawing a blank.

He's similar to Cellbit in terms of anchors. You have his family: Leonarda, Foolish, Vegetta, Richas, but out of everyone, Foolish is the only one left really and he's not that aware that Roier's not doing so well, and while Foolish does care I'm haven't seen them interacting enough to make an argument that Foolish can help in a big way.

Which leaves Roier's main anchor at this moment being one person.

Cellbit.

To help Cellbit is to help Roier, if Roier does take a similar spiral down with Cellbit.

But...the thing is, while it would be absolutely fun to see them be murder husbands, I think...maybe Roier could see what state Cellbit is in. Like, he won't care about what Cellbit had done, like he gets it and has shown he doesn't really mind. Instead, he'll see what his husband is doing to himself by going on this one man crusade against the Federation.

Like sure, he promised he'll be by his side to burn the Federation down, but he won't do it if he loses Cellbit too, you know?

Roier lost so much already, and like Cellbit had done, to have seen through his nonchalance and disregard when he hasn't been sleeping, when he's unable to sleep having lost his sister and son in law, Roier might just do the same for him.

To see through the blood and violence to the core cause of why Cellbit is doing what he's doing. That it's just a brave face, of a man that's felt helpless, that's felt useless, that's so scared, that felt like he's lost everything, that felt that he's got to do it all alone, that has to win the fight no matter the cost, even if it meant sacrificing himself. All for their family. All for him.

I don't know where Roier will decide to take his character, but...I'll take comfort in the fact that both he and Cellbit are each other's anchors, and care about each other so much, they won't let the other destroy themselves in the process.

[opalimagines]

Can I request something with reader being the Shade's daughter and dating Rick? With a lotta theatrics from the Swifts, if you please 😁 and maybe some spicy with Rick 😜

Characters: Rick Tyler/Hourman and Platonic!Richard Swift/The Shade

Requested by anonymous

Reader: Neutral

Warnings: None

Notes: Did this as headcanons because it fits better and I've thought about this scenario way too much to condense it into one imagine. But I have a lot of story ideas based around this that I'd like to play around with for sure. Some of it is discussed below.

First of all, we gotta talk about how Shade ended up with a kid. I don't think he could even have a biological child anymore (nor do I see him having one if he could), but they could be his orphaned great great great grandchild from when he was human, or the orphaned great great great grandchild of his beloved sister. Or something similar to his adopted daughter in the comics where you have powers or something and definitely could not have been raised by normal humans, so he takes you in.

My personal favorite is him adopting the child of one of the dead JSA members. Say, The Flash (IYKYK 😉)

No matter how he ended up being your parental figure, he's not a strict one. Shade has cared for you to the best of his ability, made sure you're well educated, and tried to keep the darker parts of himself from rubbing off on you (that didn't completely work though)

I see there being a lot of periods where you're sort of left to your own devices within the limits of Opal City. And I think that, as well as being different from other kids your age, makes you a little lonely by the time you arrive in Blue Valley.

You follow Shade there because he was acting strange when he told you he was leaving, and you make it there right around when he does. Naturally, you end up meeting the JSA and initially just think Rick is cute.

Nothing ends up happening during season two's events, but you stay in Blue Valley with Shade and a friendship begins to develop between you and the JSA. And something more slowly forms with Rick. You enroll at the high school so you're spending even more time with the team than before.

Shade can absolutely tell that the two of you have feelings for each other, and he really doesn't mind it. While he does value your safety very much, he's not the type of person who's going to control who you might date. And besides, after getting to know Rick better while attempting to resurrect Grundy, Shade's not concerned about the possibility of the two of you dating. If it takes too long, he'll end up planning some dramatic thing to get you and Rick to finally figure things out 😆

Anyway, you stay in town when Shade leaves and things with Rick continue as they are. Until he's deep in his hourglass addiction and says some very personal, hurtful things to you when you're trying to help him. You leave to join Shade and the twins, and once Rick starts coming back to himself, he thinks he screwed everything up and pushed you away for good.

But you make your dramatic entrance during the fight against Ultra-Humanite and the Icicle family, saving him in the process. He apologizes to you afterward, and you accept. I see feelings also being admitted at this point, but it's all kinda taken slowly because Rick's still going through some things after how messed up he got.

When you and Rick are official, Shade's glad for you. He trusts you and knows that Rick is a good young man, and as long as the two of you are being safe about things and you're happy, he doesn't insert himself in any way. Overall just pretty decent for Rick to have as his partner's parental figure (and future in law). He could be terrifying, but Rick would never do anything to bring that upon himself anyway.

Rick's pretty much accepted into your family of two before too long. He spends a good amount of time at your Blue Valley home, which Shade doesn't mind as he knows he still lives alone. You even take him back to Opal City at some point to show him your real home there. And all of your favorite places.

Dates at the diner, drive in movies, stargazing, hanging out in the woods with Grundy, and just enjoying one another's company.

You're so very happy with Rick, and that's all that a father can ask for.

And in a decade or so, Shade totally officiates the wedding

[maydayy98]

Alistair x Cousland Headcanon - Dancing

I have this headcanon that when my Warden Cousland was a young girl in Highever, she loved dancing. And she was really good at it too! Like she wasn’t super great at a lot of the “noble lady” things, and big social events and small talk with nobility weren’t usually her cup of tea. But if there was ever a castle party, you’d for sure find her dancing all night long. Maybe something about it reminded her of swordplay? The footwork, the balance, the energy of it? The interplay between two people? Either way, young Lady Cousland was always an excellent dancer as well as a warrior

Fast forward to the middle of Origins. One night at camp, Leliana is playing some music by the fire, maybe some other companions are joining her, and the Warden can’t remember the last time she danced but listening to the music, she suddenly misses it. Zevran whose sitting nearby and listening, offers to be a dancing partner for a song if she misses it so much, because of course he does and I could imagine he’s a damn good dancer himself lol. Nothing flirtatious about this offer, he just wants to enjoy the entertainment of it. And Cousland agrees.

Now Alistair, also nearby, is NOT a dancer. Never really had the chance to learn, thinks he can’t dance for the life of him and doesn’t really want to be seen trying, doesn't want to look the fool. So when others at camp begin to join in the fun he is quick to back out of it (alongside Morrigan because she would not be caught dead lol). 

Until he sees his Warden twirling and laughing by the firelight, almost glowing it seems like, and he’s just so fucking smitten. She’s smiling so widely, he doesn’t know if he’s ever seen her smile like that before and Maker she’s just beautiful. And her laugh, it’s like music. Alistair knows that he cares deeply for his fellow Grey Warden by now but he hasn’t shared these feeling yet. Though it’s harder to ignore them now…

When the dance ends, the Warden is nearer to Alistair than before, laughing and clapping and as another song strikes up, Lady Cousland specifically asks Alistair if he’ll dance with her. Promises that it’ll be fun. When he admits that he doesn’t really know how, she says she’ll teach him and he agrees. Because he’d be willing to look the fool a dozen times over if it meant getting to dance with her like that.

 Insert a VERY CUTE SCENE when the Warden teaches Alistair how to dance and he’s all left feet at first but he eventually starts to find his footing and they get into a proper rhythm and it is so much fun. And Alistair admits he’s surprised that the Warden enjoys dancing so much and she talks about the dances in Highever and how her father taught her how to when she was very small, and during castle parties visiting nobleman’s sons would try to ask her to dance in order to "woo" the Teyrn's daughter, so she'd make her brother Fergus dance with her most of the night to keep them at bay. They both laugh at the silly stories, and it’s the first time she’s talked about her family or her life before the blight with any real joy in her voice and Alistair thinks that he would have liked to know her then, before all of this death and tragedy and the loss that she had suffered. The Warden mirrors these thoughts back to him by saying that he would have loved a party thrown by the Couslands, and she would have liked to show him her home before…before Howe and...

Her face falls, the light leaving her eyes a bit, and Alistair feels an ache in his chest. He tries to lighten the mood and bring back her smile by stumbling a bit and joking that he would have made an awful dancing partner if he’d ever attended a party in Highever. Cousland laughs softly and assures him that he’s doing fine, and they continue in the dance as the music picks up. A couple knowing eyes watch them together, because neither one of them are as subtle about their feelings at they think that they are. But it hardly matters; they’re both having so much fun, joking and smiling, and maybe even flirting just a bit. Then the song comes to a close and they realize how close they are and the Warden actually starts to blush a bit. And damnit if Alistair wasn’t completely smitten before he sure as hell is now. If he forgot himself too much, he might have even leaned ever so slightly towards her lips, they were right there after all. Her face so near to his, her frame fitting into his arms perfectly. She was right there…

The couple are bumped into by Zevran who is trying to teach other partners the steps to the dance, without much success. This takes the two lovebirds out of their moment together, and Cousland laughs to break the tension, and makes an awkward mock curtsy before excusing herself, leaving Alistair slightly red-faced and gazing after her, trying to figure out how he’s going to ever admit that he’d really like nothing more than to to dance with her every day for the rest of his life...

(Ah God I really don't know where this all came from, and I know it's not good at all I just wanted to share all the cute fluff that lives in my brain. I would literally die for these two idiot Wardens sharing one brain cell between them. I have so many feelings, Maker end my suffering T-T)