#i had to dig for his wiki

[cola-vampire]

Hey, real quick can we consider that comet Rufus Aldebaran (I fucking forgot his name he's so forgettable LMAOO) discovered is a catalyst comet from adventure time??

[sol-consort]

i wish Mass Effect wiki editiors were as obsessed with their characters as the Pathologic wiki editors are

[akkivee]

on the same vein that jakurai could be nagoya born, i wonder if there’s a chance ichiro came from osaka before settling in ikebukuro 🤔

[fabled-fiction]

Temptations of the Wolf

Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: Being a Targaryen meant sacrifice. Being a Stark meant sacrifice. Both these houses know the service of duty well. But when war is amiss, and two leaders of these respective houses meet to discuss allegiance, feelings for one another bubble to the surface and get in the way. Oh how the winds of war turn would be lover on would be lover.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: MAYBE POSSIBLE SPOILER ISH FOR EP 1. Angst, Foribbiden-ish Love, Use of (Y/N), proof read only by author.

A/N: I AM A HOTD TV SHOW PERSON ONLY!!! I did research on wikis to try and write Cregan correctly, however I am but a simple man that writes fanfiction, so mischaracterization isn't totally unavoidable. ENJOY!

A dragon does not get cold.

A dragon does not feel the cold as they have fire brewing under their scales, penetrating not only their bones but also their soul. The soul of a dragon is a fiercely burning one, said to run so hot that their touch alone melts the thickest of ice.

(Y/N) Targaryen knew of this fire better than any dragon. Or that is what the people of King’s Landing had quickly grown to best know them by. Growing up within the tense house of Targaryen, especially during war times, justly called for you to have more than just a spine of a predator.

To survive amongst dragons, you must be able to breathe their fire.

Making every other tense occasion feel as though you were walking on air.

Perhaps there was another reason as to why you felt no fear as you flew North. A reason that bore the Stark symbol.

That is why, as Polarxes rode through the winter chill, with the wind daring to snip at your skin you felt calm. At peace almost, even as the great Wall came into view.

It was realized that in order to keep the throne that was meant to stay in the hands of your brother Aegon, relations had to be made. Families and Houses had bent the knee for King Visery’s heir not long ago, and it was soon made apparent that your family would have to make the same bend the knee again for Aegon. Just to make sure that loyalties lied with the correct Targaryen.

Whilst you particularly did not care for such politics, or politics in general, your mother had other plans. Seeing as you and Aemond stood as…the most intimidating of the family it was an easy decision to send the both of you out to ensure alliances were made and pacts bonded.

You knew that the decision to send you to the Wall was laced with more than just truce in mind. Your mother was a cunning woman, and recalled the times that whenever the Starks came to make your acquaintance you favored the nip of the cold family over the burning of the dragon pit. The touch of their ice, and the gaze of one particular wolf.

As your dragon landed, her talons digging in to break, you took a moment to yourself to feel the snowflakes rest on your warm cheeks and melt into the white of your roots. The cold felt nice on your skin that had grown used to the humidity of King’s Landing. To feel at ease in your skin, to have even the opportunity to cool off was an unknown blessing of this trip.

“I hope the ride here was not too tiresome for your dragon here, the winds can be quite hard in preparation for the change of season.”

Looking down at the boy, who looked no older than four and ten years of age, you smiled as you slid off your dragon with ease. She shook her head in response, her ivory scales offering her a sort of camouflage to the elements around her as she settled down. The heat of her breath alone melted whatever ice laid around her, the rest becoming swept up as her wings folded in. 

Whilst you looked at her with admiration, you could tell that this was the first dragon the boy had ever seen. It was a mix of awe and fear that flooded his eyes, which you did not doubt also kept him frozen still in fear of her eating him to remain warm.

“Do not worry about her, she is not the dragon that will eat you alive should you make one wrong move.”

A wolf does not get cold.

A wolf does feel the cold because the wolf knows how to bear the frigid winds. Their fur having grown to shift with the winds that come with winter. They stand strong against the chill of winter, and stand headfast at the front of the storm. 

The gaze of a wolf alone makes one question whether or not the storm bends to the wolf’s howl.

Cregan Stark knew that his house would come to be called upon soon enough. That is what comes with the winds of war. He just never felt bothered enough to actually busy himself with the calls of the storm.

But it became increasingly hard to ignore as a dragon landed at the gates of the Wall.

Especially when it was a dragon he recognized, that held a rider that had occupied his mind in the dark of the night as he stared into a fireplace. The lick of flames taunting him the same way a certain Targaryen had whenever in their presence.

He had begun to regret not knowing what exactly this storm of war would make him face.

The warmth of a Targaryen was hard to ignore, it made the men wish for the comfort of home as they were reminded of just how cold winter really was when left in their absence. A reaching hand hoping to grasp onto the hearth that was your soul. 

Even as he looked up toward the wall, the announcement of your presence was made when he felt sweat beghin to build on the back of his neck.

Turning towards you he noticed the sea of men that had parted to make a runway for you,almost as if they were presenting you to him. Or maybe it was the other way around as he noticed the way your predatory gaze ate up every inch of him.

He should have felt intimidated just by that alone.

You stood there before him, adorning only the one coat that seemed to mock the furs that he had adorned in order to retain even a fraction of the heat that you held onto. Your head was held high as you looked upon the Stark, giving him the smallest courtesy bow as your hand reached to shake his. He should not have been so eager to be in your presence upon the precipice of war.

Cregan Stark was no fool, he knew the reason for your visit. But still, appearances seemed to be becoming more and more important in this age.

“Lord Stark, I hope I am not intruding? There were some important business I’d like to discuss and well…dragons are faster than ravens.”

He offered you a curt smile as he stood to his full height, hoping to give himself an advantage on the conversation. Or at the very least to provide some distance to distract from the pit that had been lit a flame from your very speaking of his name.

“You’re not intruding in any way. Would you like to take this discussion somewhere more private, if the matter happens to be so important?”

You were not used to the Northern accent. The regality of the South had become your norm as you dealt with many affairs there, instead of bending to the will of the many Lord and Lady that wanted an audience with the great Targaryen rulers of the day. Thus you were used to their customs, clothing and accents.

Everything about the North always took you by surprise, and assaulted every sense that you had.

Cregan Stark was no different. If anything he made the divide even more stark as you set your gaze upon him.

He stood tall, and unbroken as he looked at you. The Wolf of the North was everything that had been said about him. Tall, broad, strong…handsome. His steeled eyes locked you in your place almost instantly. You weren’t sure if it was because you feared a single wrong move from you would provoke the beast or because you wanted to soak in every minute of his undivided attention. Never had you met someone with the same resolve as you, nor the same gaze.

You knew now why people were so intoxicated by you.

He always had that effect on you.

Taking his hand, stepping onto the lift you couldn’t help but be drawn to the cold that laid on his hands. The chill that ran up your arm from his touch alone made you want to keep a harsh grip on his gloved hand.

When the both of you were locked in, it was only then did your hands regretfully break apart by the jostle of the cables.

“I’m sure you know why I have made the trip all the way out here?” 

“Was it not to take in the view atop the wall?”

The chuckle that left your lips resonated throughout the cart, it made Cregan want to fill a book with quips that would draw similar sounds out of you. He smiled to himself as the ride came to a halt, and the two of you made the trip to a balcony overlooking the edge of the forsaken wall.

“ While that is a plus, I have come here as a courier from the Queen Mother. Whilst I believe you are busy with the responsibilities of defending the South from that of which come from those blasted woods, it would shock me to find you do not know of the developing situation within my family?”

His suspicions were confirmed. While there was no doubt you had come to discuss the usurping of the throne, it lifted some weight off his shoulder to know that you had been the one to broach the topic first. For some…unknown reason he felt hesitant to the idea of bringing up a topic that would only bring a scowl upon your face. Or any topic for that matter that would cause a crease to form between the bridge of your gaze.

But upon the question he found that you were calm and collected. As if you had not just brought up the topic of a deed that often led to disorder amongst the throne and council. Many of the men that served the wall had been sent here for just the discussion of mutiny alone.

Your confidence alone shook him, and confused him at the same time.

“I’m sure even the farthest reaches have heard of your brother taking his seat upon the Iron Throne. I'm confused however on what this has to do with me?”

Taking your gloves off, Cregan watched as you placed your hands on the edge of the ice that formed this pocket amongst the wall. Your shoulders dropped along with your head as you took in a deep breath. It was interesting to take in your mannerisms when it was just him instead of him and an audience. You behaved…well like a dragon. A foreboding presence that did not easily reveal their intentions, a ticking trap of anguish and fire. A continuous stream of steam left your nostrils as you took a moment to contemplate.

The dread that spilled from your exhale had Cregan convinced there was something more amiss this meeting of allegiance. 

“I truly do not care of the affairs of my brother, he has rarely acted on his own accord. Thus why I am here, to gather support of others that will make sure whatever whims he does hold are defended from those that aim to make all of this harder than it has to be.”

Looking at the palm of your hand that had been grasping the ice with a fury, you noticed that it had only now just started to turn pink. Whereas you were sure if anyone else had dared to meet flesh with ice, it would be purple and dead by now. It was a calming reassurance to feel the calming touch of ice. When looking into Cregan eyes, you felt a similar calm as his brows furrowed into a look that resembled something of sympathy.

He understood more than anyone the weight of duty.

“If I may ask, it seems as if you do not have much desire in the battles that are brewing? So why come here to make a play with a house that is known to keep their oaths?”

Of course he knew the weight of duty. The Stark house was known to be one of the most noble houses when it came to keeping a promise. They had bent the knee for your half sister years ago, so why must you have come out all this way to try and turn their tides? You truly did not want to come out all this way, only making the trip at the request of your mother who had become a thorn in your side ever since you made your indifference to the throne known.

You knew coming out this way would not sway the Stark, but instead sway you. 

“Who wishes for war? Only mad men desire a battle that would take their life,” Taking a moment to compose yourself, you straightened your back.

“Which is exactly why I come in hopes that you share the same sentiment.”

Your eyes seemed to hold all the emotions of the seven kingdoms. Cregan took a moment to compose himself, and remind himself that he was the Warden of the North. He does not need to consult himself on ways to keep the blaze of your heart lit. He had a job, just as you had yours.

Which is why he felt himself faltering.

“A Targaryen that does not wish of war? You are a rarity amongst your family (Y/N).”

Your name should have felt foreign to say. It was not dressed with honorifics, and he meant it. The lack of title that came before your name was with the purpose of bringing this conversation down to a more personal level. 

He watched as you tensed with him saying your name. But he knew it was not in offense, he could never offend you. It was in realization of the fragility of this conversation.

His informality was sealed when he rested his hand on the small of your back. The both of you just took in the moment to look beyond the wall. Cregan knew that this simple action could warrant reaction from you, it would be justified for you to take his hand and his tongue for even speaking to you in such a casual way.

Instead you melted into his touch, turning to face him.

He took this as an invitation to invade your space once more, taking a step forward to move a piece of hair that threatened to obscure his view of you.

“You flatter me, Lord Stark. But a compliment such as that will only do so much to sway me. I was sent here for a reason.”

His title wavered on your tongue as you spoke to him. This just drew more a response from him as he did not move, humming almost in agreeance as his hand found its place on your cheek. For a moment he felt jealous of the leather that dressed his palm, for it had the honor of holding you truely.

“Hmm yes, you were sent here for a reason. But could there not have been another? One that you hold instead, that trumps the duty you feel to your house?”

He was always good at reading you.

Perhaps you should have felt unease in coming here, to think it would just be a simple trip to the Wall that would just lead you to return home with nothing but a word that the Starks were not aligned with your house.

You were blinded by the urge to see him, the want to make his acquaintance one more time before the realm tore itself apart. “Cregan…”

His name fell from your lips with a whisper, as if you were praying to the gods above to harden your resolve.

“Tell me the real reason you came here.”

He was incredibly close now, his presence shadowing over yours. He covered you in a shroud of snow, his touch almost paralyzing you as you remained locked in a fight of wills.

Who would win? The fearsome dragon or the unbending wolf?

“To speak with you. There are…alliances that need to be made in order to keep my family from tearing itself and the world apart.”

This earned a frown from him as he leaned even closer to you. He assaulted every sense you had now. His eyes burned into yours, rivaling your gaze as his scent came over you. There was a reason you favored the smell of leather and musk. It reminded you of him.

“Could you just this once make a decision that was not dictated by your family, but rather made in lieu of what you wanted?”

Your hand reached up to hold his wrist of the hand that grounded you. Your touch was searing, Cregan knew that had you touched his skin he was sure there would be a burn where you had touched him. And he would wear it with honor.

He wondered if a kiss from you would be just as searing. If steam would rise from the both of your lips as you became one.

The fan of your breath over his cheeks threatened the very resolve he was known for.

This very act alone could be considered taking a side. The both of you would seal your fate if you fell blindly into your passions right at this second. A thought crossed the wolf’s mind, how truly awful would it have been to give in, even for just a moment?

Your hand on his cheek, a mirror of his own action, made him clasp his eyes shut as a shaky breath escaped his own trembling lips. 

He looked beautiful, in this very moment, you thought.

The both of you were so close, the desire of one thing burning in your mind as you stared at him.

You were never one for politics, but could that argument alone be excuse enough to betray the whims of your family for a single kiss from a man that would stand against them?

You wished to lite his lips ablaze with the passion of your touch.

He wished to swallow the fire that burned in your throat.

A dragon does not feel the cold.

A wolf does not feel the cold.

But right in this very moment they both wished the winds would freeze them in place, if not to hold onto the memory for just a moment longer.

“Cregan..”

“(Y/N)..”

The side of his nose seemed to fit perfectly against yours as he leaned in. Your hand rested up against the nape of his neck perfectly, anchoring both of you in this stance. 

Just as the both of you felt a graze of the other, there was the annoyance of another made present.

The squealing of the lift cables broke the silence, and thus breaking the tender moment of the two of you.

It wasn't until they came to a halt did you finally step back, and Cregan was left to imagine the moment for only a second before opening his eyes to the reality of the situation.

“Lord Stark, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon of house Velaryon has arrived to speak with you.”

With a small huff of a laugh, you straightened your cloak and looked out over the wall once more. 

This would probably be the last time you saw winter…the snow…and him.

Feeling his hand grip your chin, making you face him you could only chuckle as you held his face again. Only this time with longing and remorse. You were already mourning any possibility you had with him, and he knew it too as he looked down at you.

“I wish it were that easy…”

Leaning forward, you played with fire one last time as your lips came to rest on the corner of his. It was a quick moment, only giving yourself enough of it for the small gesture. You knew if you lingered for even a moment the Northerner would take it upon himself to seize whatever he could. And then you truely would be gone to the whims of a lovely passion.

Pulling away, you watched as he held where you had kissed him, before breaking away from your eye as you made your way to the lift to leave him.

But when his hand found your wrist, you could feel the fire brimming in your throat.

“Just…think about what I said…before its too late.”

Looking over your shoulder, you couldn't help but take the moment to study his face. Commit it to memory. Perhaps that is truly what you came here for. Not some silly test of allegiance, for you already had that answer before you even mounted your dragon.

No…it was to take in one last memory of the cold.

[clownowo]

I love inventing terrible in universe fandom drama.

Gavintwt fell into a couple months of terrible discourse about Klavier’s sexuality. people argue about whether he's gay or just queerbaiting and then people argue about how this is invasive actually and real people can't queerbait and Klavier is just openly queer the whole time with a song literally titled "my boyfriend is the prosecution's witness". blissfully unaware.

There's a trend of Gavinner stans committing crimes or messing with crime scenes just to be prosecuted/called as a witness by Klavier. he has to put out a formal statement imploring his fans to pursue other methods of getting his attention:

just. please. stop. please.

A few years after the disbarment someone digs up an old viral post that's like

📖 tilthat February 15, 2018 TIL that during a case in 2016, a defense attorney cross-examined a parrot during the final day of court. The defense won the case. 🐢 tortise-law February 15, 2018 Sit your ass the hell down this motherfucker's name is fucking Phoenix Wright and you don't understand how fucking batshit that case is. He was defending prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, who he had previously DESTROYED THE PERFECT RECORD OF. And it STARTS with Wright proving a witness didn't actually see the murder because they were searching for the goddamned Loch Ness Monster. And not only that, the case ends with him ACCUSING THE OTHER PROSECUTOR, MANFRED VON KARMA, OF ORCHESTRATING THE WHOLE MURDER AND KILLING EDGEWORTH'S FATHER. AND HE WAS RIGHT???? LIKE???? 🎩 gay-ramarye February 16, 2018 holy shit reading this guy's wiki page is a fucking trip. not only does he have a perfect win record, that defendant immediately followed this up with FAKING HIS OWN DEATH??? spacejamminninja-deactivated2018 February 16, 2018 How is this not a tv show already. What the hell do you mean he faked his death 🪶 is-the-hawk-video-cute February 17, 2018 tbh if my defense attorney cross examined a parrot and accused the opposing counsel i'd fake my death too 🌸 pinkprincess February 18, 2018 japanifornia cases are just Like That i have never heard of a normal one.

and gavinblr suddenly realizes that that was the dude Klavier got DISBARRED a couple years ago. viral sensation parrot cross-examiner Phoenix Wright. the fandom goes crazy for a few days but then Klavier does a new photoshoot and they all move on.

A post joking about shipping Klavier’s brother with the guy Klavier got disbarred becomes a huge meme in gavinblr and a subsection begins writing ironic Krisnix RPF that progressively becomes genuine and then turnabout trump happens and the fandom explodes again. Half the Krisnix shippers jump ship to Klapollo because they felt weird about shipping a murderer (and did you SEE the Kitaki case? Klavier was sooo flirting with the defense <3). The other half doubled down and reveled in the angst potential. Part of the Klapollo shippers started truthing. They study court transcripts to prove that Klavier and Apollo are in love if not already dating. Unfortunately they’re right.

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

!"are we still friends?" kiss w/ inumaki!

prompt// heartbeat getting faster with every passing second, their hands on your waist, one coming up to your jaw, whispering your name softly, before just going for it. coming absolutely undone as your hand reaches to tug on their hair (prompt from @jasminesfury)

pairing// toge inumaki x gn!reader

word count// 1.8k

contents// jujutsu high is a college, inumaki communicates through sticky notes, inumaki uses his cursed technique to get what he wants, ooc inumaki ?

notes// these kissing prompts r too good not to use sorry not sorry! also yes him using his cursed technique was inspired by that one anon... also any information i say about a character's likes? or like favorite food, i get from jjk fandom wiki dont come for me if its not right ok baiiii <3

You and Inumaki are best friends— or were. Right now, he’s not quite sure where the two of you stand considering how you’ve been acting towards him lately. He and, quite frankly, anyone with eyes could see how uninterested you were acting toward him. You avoided his touch, kept conversations short, avoided eye contact, hell, you tried to avoid him all together—you were ignoring him. It wasn’t like you were doing it on purpose, though! …Okay, you definitely were, but you also definitely had a good reason to. The whole reason this started was because of last week.

You and Inumaki are best friends; you’d obviously take any chance you could to hang out with him, and you thought that was the only reason why—because he’s your best friend—but that day you quickly learned that was not the case. You and Inumaki sat under a tree in a random park. When the weather was nice and your schedules aligned, the two of you would often have picnics together. On these picnics, you two had this unspoken agreement of bringing each other food; he’d bring you what you liked or what he thought you’d like, and you’d do the same for him. You watch him intently as he places all the food he got for you near you, and you smile when he’s finished and is staring at you patiently, waiting for you to do the same.

You ignore his gaze and what he wants, instead tilting your head at him and asking, “What’s your favorite food?”

Inumaki’s face drops, and a pout replaces his previous faint smile as he pulls out a sticky note pad and scribbles, “Are you joking?”

You commit to the bit. “No, I’m serious! What’s your favorite food?”

You watch him fervently rip that note off to write on another one, “Wait, you seriously don’t know?”

The way he’s staring at you makes you relent. “Just humor me for a second Inumaki?” you plead with a soft smile, reassuring him that it’ll be worth it.

He stares at you curiously before nodding and writing, “Tuna mayo onigiri.”

You hum with a nod. “Right, thought so,” you say. “Guess what I have!”

Inumaki’s eyes light up as he excitedly taps his finger against the words he just wrote. His reaction doesn’t take you by surprise; you’ve seen him react like this plenty of times before. It’s what you love about him—how excited and happy he gets about things and isn’t afraid to show it—but something is different. The sun is shining on his face perfectly; it gleams off his eyes, and the way the wind slowly blows past and the trees and flowers behind him sway softly with his hair has you completely mesmerized. So mesmerized, in fact, that Inumaki had to practically shove the notepad in your face for you to even realize you were staring.

You shake your head as if shaking yourself out of your trance, silently acknowledging to yourself that it was odd, but you digress. “Sorry! But yes, I do have that for you!”

He drops the notepad and holds out his hand expectingly, and you giggle as you place the onigiri in his hand. He bows his head slightly at you to say thank you before he digs in, and you smile warmly at him.

“I’ve been trying to get it for you the past few picnics, but they were always out,” you say, frowning. “But today I went early, and they actually had some!”

He acknowledges you with a glance, and your heart skips a beat just from the brief moment that your eyes meet. You try to ignore it, though. You try to ignore how you can’t keep your eyes off him, the butterflies in your stomach, and how warm you feel. Maybe you’re getting sick? Yeah, that must be it. You don’t know how long you got distracted by simply admiring him, but by the time you came back to reality, he was done with his food and writing something on his sticky notes.

He holds up the notepad, asking, “Are you okay?”

You scoff slightly. “Of course I’m okay.”

He frowns at you before scribbling, “You haven’t touched any of your food.”

You look down at the food before returning your gaze to him and awkwardly smiling. “Ah yeah, just not all that hungry, Inumaki...”

You watch him study your face quickly before writing, "Are you sick?” He doesn't give you time to reply before placing the back of his hand on your forehead, and if you weren't already flustered before, you most definitely are now. You're too shocked by his actions to say anything, but it doesn’t matter when he's already scribbling a new sentence. “You feel warm.”

“I'm sure it's nothing, Inumaki,” you try to reassure.

He hands you a sticky note that says, “We should get you back to your dorm and stop for medicine on the way,” before beginning to pack up the left-over food.

You roll your eyes and place your hand over his to stop him, and the way he looks up at you has your brain going blank, so much so that he has to shoot you a questionable look in order for you to realize what you were doing.

You quickly remove your hand from his and clear your throat. “It’s fine, I promise. I probably just have to sleep it off, okay?”

Inumaki doesn't bother writing anything down and instead just stares at you blankly.

“If I'm still ‘sick’ by tomorrow, we can go get medicine, okay?”

He nods, ultimately accepting that answer, but he wishes he didn't because tomorrow never came. You didn't die, obviously, but you might as well have. You started ignoring him the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, and... you get the point.

Inumaki has no idea what he did; he tried to ‘talk’ to you the best he could. He’d leave you sticky notes, and you would hardly acknowledge them or him. Did he do something wrong? He knows most people found him intimidating at first because of his cursed technique and were hesitant around him, but you never were, so why are you acting like it now? Maybe he came off too strongly; maybe you got suffocated being his only friend—well, not his only friend, but his closest friend; maybe you just had enough. Inumaki told himself he was just going to let whatever happens happen, but he couldn’t. So he said he'd find you after class and corner you if he really had to; you’re already ignoring him; what's the worst that could happen after that? But he couldn’t wait till after class tomorrow; he couldn't sleep; he just laid in bed anxiously, which is why he now finds himself standing at your door. He doesn’t think twice about knocking; he wants—no, he needs—to know why you're ignoring him.

You're surprised to see him there, and his twisted-up face makes your heart drop. You're not sure if he's worried, angry, or both.

“Inumaki, hey.” You’re afraid to look at him for too long, fearful that he’ll look back and figure out your feelings for him, so you leave the door open and start walking away. “Come in.”

He does so, shutting the door behind him. You’re a few feet away from him, so he tries to close the distance between you two, only for you to take the same number of steps back. Inumaki frowns and pulls out his sticky notes.

“Are we still friends?”

No, because you’d rather be more—if it isn't obvious by now, the entire reason you’ve been ignoring him is because you've finally realized how deeply in love with him you are.

You avoid his gaze and zero in on your floor instead, nervously laughing. “Of course, Inumaki, why wouldn't we be?”

You hear him scribble something down before the sticky pad shows up in your field of vision. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

You push his hand out of your vision. "No, I haven't.”

You hear more scribbling before one of his hands grabs your chin and lifts your head up to face him. Your eyes fluttered at the action, and you hope to god he didn't notice. He shakes the notepad in his other hand to draw your attention to it. “Yes, you have.”

You can't lie to him when it's like he's staring straight into your soul. “Okay, fine, maybe.”

Though you wish you did when his face drops and he slowly lets go of your jaw to write, “Why?”

You take a step back, and he takes one forward. “It doesn’t matter.”

He frowns and shakes his notepad slightly as if to emphasize his point, “Yes, it does.”

“It doesn't because I'm gonna stop ignoring you, okay?”

“But why were you ignoring me?” he scribbles frantically.

You sigh. “Just drop it, Inumaki, please?”

He shakes his head.

“Inumaki, just forget about it, and we can go back to normal, okay?”

He narrows his eyes at you and writes, “Just tell me! I won't get mad; I just want to know why.”

“Inumaki, seriously drop it,” you say as you turn to walk away, but you don't get far before you hear a clatter of Inumaki’s things hitting the floor, and he grabs your wrist, pulling you into him. He has your wrist to his chest, and your other hand is instinctively pressing against him, while his other hand is on your waist. You grow flustered by how you two are body-to-body, with no space to be found between the two of you, and you look at him wide-eyed, both of your breathing becoming heavier with each passing second. You're about to push yourself off of him or tell him to let go of you, but any thought of doing something vanishes the minute you see him start to open his mouth.

“Tell me,” he says softly yet firmly.

You can't even attempt to fight against his command as the words "I like you" pour out of your mouth against your will.

The minute the words leave your mouth, you go wide-eyed in shock from your confession, and from how he used his technique on you, he’s equally as wide-eyed. You try to yank your wrist free from his hold, but he has an iron grip on you no matter how hard you struggle.

You begin to murmur nervously, your voice trembling with embarrassment, "Inumaki-"

But your sentence is quickly cut short when he leans in. He hesitates for a moment before just going for it and kissing you. You don't kiss back at first in shock, but once you grasp what's going on, you quickly melt into the kiss, practically turning into liquid with the way your legs try to give out on you. You quickly tangle your free hand in his hair; he releases his grip on your wrist and places that hand on your waist as well, while you cradle his face with your newly freed hand. You two stand there kissing and holding each other for what seems like forever before he finally pulls away, both of you nearly panting.

“So, uh, does this mean we’re not friends or-“

© LITTLEXBIMBO

[delawaredetroit]

Since we're talking names, I went to the fandom wiki to dig into Mirio's real name and hero name a bit more, and I'm even more convinced of my interpretation of his character and the depths to which he is meant to be a foil for Izuku.

Both of their hero names are calls to action created from puns of their given names. The first character of Izuku's name can be read as "de" which Bakugou used to call him Deku, worthless/a wooden doll, which Ochako reinterpreted as dekiru as in "you can do it!". Izuku writes his hero name in accordance with Ochako's interpretation, but it's still a homophone with how he was called by Bakugou. And that "you can do it!" is simultaneously Izuku's aspirations for himself, a callback to his origin, and a call to action for others.

Mirio's name is close to a homophone with the Japanese pronunciation of million, and his hero name is Lemillion. His goal is to save a million people. He lacks the ambition to save everyone or create a new framework for their society. Assuming Japan's population was around 126.8 million people during this chapter, Mirio's highest ambition was to save approximately one percent of the population. It's a grand goal for an average pro hero, but for a supposed fledging symbol that goal is nothing special.

There are conflicting indications in Mirio's name concerning One for All. Mirio's name does fit within the number pattern for One for All successors. His surname contains a kanji that can also be read as ten just like the "ku" in Izuku's name is a homophone for nine. But, his surname, Togata, can also be read as "conformity", which is the opposite of the role of a One for All successor.

All the One for All users went against the grain of their time. The first three went against the man who first brought society back together again after the Dawn of Quirks (because he was trying to rule over everything). Shinomori rejected the existing society entirely and lived in the woods. Banjo through Nana were swimming against the tide trying to keep society together and fight the ultimate villain during times of turmoil. All Might was an orphan who came from nothing who aspired to be a pillar for society to progress. Izuku had ambitions to include those excluded/disempowered by All Might's era of peace (not that Izuku thinks poorly of All Might but they have disagreements concerning questions like can everyone be saved or are their inherently evil quirks).

Mirio's rationality and achievable, grounded goals just don't mesh well with the ethos of One for All despite the surface level compatibility.

Tl;dr: Mirio isn't crazy enough to be a One for All successor

[sallowtheories]

Is Sebastian's parents the reason Miriam found the portkey?

Yes, you read that right, and I actually believe that they were. I believe Sebastian and Anne's parents were the reason why, Miriam was able to find the portkey.

Now, you may wonder how I came to that conclusion. It was though a specific question, that I slowly pieced this idea together.

What did Sebastian's parents teach at Hogwarts?

It is never stated what Anne and Sebastian's parents taught at Hogwarts, but only that they died while the twins where still quite young, and before - as far as we know - they ever sat a foot on Hogwarts grounds themselves. All that we know about them was that they read and studied a lot, and passed the joy of learning and gathering knowledge onto their children. As Sebastian once stated to the MC, he reads whatever book he is handed - "That's what you get with professors for parents".

But that doesn't explain what they taught at Hogwarts.

That was then I remembered that during a conversation with professor Ronen, you learn that he had only been at the school as a professor for 7 years. That means that he started teaching Charms at Hogwarts in 1883, around which time Anne and Sebastian would have been 8 years old. Therefore it is not unlikely to believe that either Sebastian's mother or father taught Charms at Hogwarts.

But that only explains one of the parents.

I started digging a little further, checking if I could find out other things about the other professors and when they started teaching at Hogwarts, when I remembered something Sebastian once told the MC. When you tell Sebastian about your ability to see Ancient Magic, he asks a lot of questions, leading him to admidting that he has been studying "archaic magic". Which made me wonder; is that what his parents was trying to study as well?

Given what we know about Sebastian's somewhat obsessive nature, I wonder if this may have been his obsession before Anne got cursed - learning as much about whatever his parents studied. Books and text that was so interesting to read, that two magical parents with their kinds upstairs, didn't notice the fumes coming from their lamp? Would also explain where Sebastian got his inability to "stop" from...

Pushing aside how I believe it was Sebastian's first obsession with reading what his parents read, that drow the first wedge between him and his uncle, we will now have to focus on Solomon. Or more specificly, where Solomon is living - Feldcroft.

Now, we have no idea where Sebastian and Anne used to live with their parents. We don't know if they lived in Feldcroft close to Solomon, or maybe lived somewhere closer to Hogwarts. But what we do know is Solomon lived in Feldcroft. Where it was just after he decided to leave his job as an aura, or the place he and Sebastian's father grew up, we have no idea. But with Solomon in Feldcroft, we now have a connection between Sebastian's parents, and the place Miriam would find the portkey.

But what does that have to do with Miriam finding the portkey? How is Sebastian's parents involved?

In the beginning parts of the game, professor Fig tells the MC about something Miriam studied before she died - Ancient Magic. I have now played that scene through four times, and each time I notice the same thing - Miriam wanted to study the magic, not use it. She wondered if it could do good in this world. And each time, the same though came to me - "sounds like magical theory". And that was when I realized - professor Eleazar Fig is teaching Magical Theory.

We don't know when professor Fig to up the job at Hogwarts, but according to Harry Potter Wiki he had "(...) grown weary of his wife's quest and ended up settling into a comfortable teaching career whilst she continued her work on her own". So I wondered, was it possible that one of Sebastian's parents used to teach Magical Theory at Hogwarts?

Miriam was already known for traveling, but could some old notes left behind from the former teacher in Fig's office, eventually had led Miriam on the path to Feldcroft? We know it's in Feldcroft, at Rookwood castle that Lodgok would meet her, with the container that held the portkey.

Now, there's no straight on prove that Sebastian's parents knew anymore than anyone else in regards to the Keepers, the portkey or the powers of the Ancient Magic the MC is carrying. But in all of my years as a Harry Potter fan, I've learned one thing - nothing is a coinsidence. And the fact that Sebastian just so happens to live in the hamlet Isadora used to live in, and mere stone's throw away from Rookwood castle where the portkey and second trial is located, just seems to on the nose.

There's no doubt that Sebastian is tied closely to the history of Hogwarts Legacy, but I have a feeling that it may be more than one way, and that we may just have scratched the surface of what he, and his family might mean to this story.

[writtenbyjeanofarc]

claiming the jackpot.

// warnings

non-canon compliant, a bit out of character. yandere. relationship inexperience. implied noncon.

// author’s note

Aventurine’s a little out of character for this imagine. There’s not much content of him on the wiki and I’ve been itching to write some stuff about this guy since he’s pretty new to Star Rail.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Aventurine has always been pleased with the idea of claiming prizes he deemed rightfully his. Toying with the minds of others was what he did best; besides, what is there to satisfy him more than winning a game of chance? Gambling has always been his best feat, but moreover, he wasn’t the type to easily throw a fit over his losses in the heat of the game. In fact, these challenges and obstacles to this game of chance was what made him all the more feisty and insistent.

When he met you, he began staking out his claim like a panther and insisted you to be respectfully his and only his. Months into the friendship, you always showed signs of naivety since this was not a situation you had adequate experience around. Aventurine was unlike other men around. He treasured you, spent time with you, made you feel beautiful, loved, and appreciated for doing the bare minimum. Despite all this, you grew tired of his antics considering you weren’t actually ready for a serious relationship.

“He’s always this vibrant” — you thought. And you were right. He always displayed exemplary behavior when dealing with colleagues and members of the Astral Express. That was just a part of his charm. You chose to look at the big picture and imagine how your experiences with Aventurine would turn out provided you said ‘yes’ to his will of wanting to lure you in. But that wasn’t enough. You needed to dig deeper into the core of his being and sense any form of red flags in him while it still wasn’t too late.

There are many layers to Aventurine’s self — one that’s charismatic, friendly, and outgoing. Yet that’s just a tip of the iceberg according to your family and friends. What he hid from the masses, was what he displayed right before you at this very moment. A pissed, sarcastic Aventurine filled with pride and deceit.

The question remained in your thoughts — was a relationship with this shady, questionable man really worth pursuing?

There’s not enough chemistry between the two of you, was there? If you observed anything from the man himself, it was that he developed an addiction for gambling, playing games of endless possibilities and luck. And god knows what he does to his most precious jackpots.

You, a prize in his eyes, felt an overwhelming sense of urgency to run from his touch. Sure, he was polite enough to lend you some money for your college fees. But such treatment just wasn’t worth a reason for you to pursue hooking up with him. Before you could face Aventurine head on, he lifted you up bridal style, shoving you on the mattress with your face first. There’s not much you can do right now.

Sure, he was glammed up in luxurious jewelry and sported handsome, youthful features. He could spoil anyone he held dear for he had the gold to do so. But something wasn’t right. This relationship wasn’t right. It just felt so out of your control and the timing was off. But he didn’t stop.

Your mouth eventually complied with his tongue. Aventurine guides you through the whole process of pulling you in, claiming you as the grand prize of tonight’s game. It’s not as if you could resist any of his advances from now. He’s got millions of eyes glued upon you just like he had millions in his pocket.

“Beautiful. Such an eager little sweetheart. I’m going to take you nice and deep, and you’re going to be a good doll for me, yes?”

“N-no!!! Please, let me go!” you pleaded. Pled till your throat ran dry. You struggled against Aventurine’s strength as you shook your head from left to right, indicating your resistance towards his touch. “I swear, I’ll do anything, just please, let me go! I’m sick of our relationship being this way!”

“Ah, ah, ah, better watch what you say, little one. Those who seize the night may be out to get you, yet none of them went the extra mile to actually express their love for you.” Aventurine chuckled condescendingly. “From this day onward, you’re going to regret leaving me.”

Against your will, you felt something similar to a sword hilt impale you like an uppercut, It was Aventurine’s length stretching every last bit of your sanity, hell, even your pride.

His moans. You couldn’t get enough of it. Despite being naked and restrained in his king-sized bed, you felt his body heat radiate in front of yours, feeling the friction of his thrusts that grew guttural as time passed.

“Hah. I’ve been addicted to the art of gambling for quite a long time now, and it’s been a long time noting how……fascinating it is to actually claim the most precious prize of them all…..All of it, as mine.”

“I’m not yours! Ngh!” you exclaimed, stifling a moan.

“Yes, my dear. Yes, you are.” Aventurine sneered. “One of these days, you’re going to get used to this. Used to having my eyes set upon the fragile, feeble you. I’m going to meet you in that beautiful afterglow as I make this relationship the best you ever had. And that time….is tonight.”

“It would be better if you just do as I say. Otherwise, I’ll just find more ways to sneak up on you and make you mine.” he added.

With that, he, once again, pressed his lips onto yours, shutting you up for the sake of shutting you up.

And there he was, plainly confessing his undying love (and lust) for your presence as a lovely jackpot.

[anthracite-writes]

Obey me! Dating Headcanons (SFW)

ft. Non-datables [Mephistopheles, Thirteen, Raphael] - SEPRATE

NOTE: These are just my personal headcanons for the undatables. I haven't met them in OG OM! yet because of low card levels lmao but I have only met them in NB and read the wiki. What I say here is what I think I think would fit them according with the vibes I get from reading about them, so the headcanons are may be very if not extremely OOC - apologies in advance.

𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔 !!: What it's like dating the Non-datables + love languages.

NOT PROOF READ - APOLOGIES IF THERE’S TYPOS OR SPELLING ERRORS!!!

𝓜𝓮𝓹𝓱𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓹𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓼

Love Language? Words of Affirmation and Quality Time. [Hints at Physical Touch but it's all part of his fantasy]

He would definitely ban members of the RAD newpaper club from writing on you.

If there was one member that had written about you, that article draft along with all the photos are making a b-line right into the shredder. Especially if it's made-up gossip about you, even more so if it's accusing you of being in a relationship with some random student in the school or something scandalous that he knows you didn't do.

Only he's allowed to write about you, and only him.

Would definitely write about in the highest regards - praising you for your achievements as the human-exchange student.

Takes the best photos of you, even if they're candid photos.

Almost like... he's bragging for you about your achievements and accomplishments you made in RAD.

Meets you in private to avoid having any of the newspaper club members seeing the two of you together - for sure there would be a gossip column in the RAD newspaper on you two of you were ever caught.

He's a child of a extremely wealthy family - definitely hiding his relationship with you from his parents and family as a whole.

In public, he would be so cold to you, questioning why a human like you would be allowed in the Devildom.

Behind closed doors? He would be profusely apologizing to you for what he said to you in front of people, showering you in kisses and compliments about how amazing you are and how much you've changed his life.

His dates are over the top - flexing with wealth [idk, just read he likes bragging and doesn’t like cheap stuff.] . Nothing but the bestest for you.

Takes you out to expensive restaurants, shopping sprees, list goes on - and he's willing to pay for you, it's all to impress you.

Oh, he overheard you at some point when he was eavesdropping on the brothers for some kind of gossip that you favour more simple dates?

"Okay, I can do that - wait. What exactly is simple?"

Does tons of research on simple things you two can do for dates.

For more simple dates, he takes you two go for a horse back ride on one of the horses from his estate's stables on the trails of his family's land.

Organizes picnics or fancy dinners in his family's garden [obviously out of his family's eyes]

If he could, he would show you off SO HARD.

I mean like your his trophy - holding your hand with pride, a hand on your waist and holding you against his side.

He would want everyone to know you were his, kissing you while everyone is watching.

You are what he wants to brag about all the time but alas... must only happen in his daydreams during classes and Newspaper club briefings.

Loves it when you're there with him while he drafts up the next article for the newspaper or sorting through photos.

Gets your opinion on hook-lines for his article titles and has you help him choose the best photos he takes

firm believer he is amazing at photography and takes amazing photos of you two when you're out on dates.

probably has a photo of you two as his homescreen in his D.D.D, lock screen? prob the default one - again, he's trying to hide the fact he's dating you

Let's you in on gossip he's heard on the job and inside scoops on events in the school.

Def. the jealous type - sees some other student hitting on you? Oh, he's digging up as much dirt on that person so fast and blackmailing the person in order to get them to leave you alone.

Calls you 'Darling', 'Precious', and 'Tesoro'

Doesn't mind nicknames you give him, as long as you don't call him that when other people are around.

Fav. places to his you? Neck, hands, and lips.

𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓷

Love Language? Gift Giving.

Girlie is absolutely crafty and definitely not gonna let you know when she's giving you anything.

Creates contraptions and traps just for you that won't do any harm to you.

Most of the traps and contraptions are extremely wholesome, showering you in confetti, flower pestles, maybe a gift or two like a plushie she saw that she knew you'd like.

Dates consists of a lot of cafe and bakery dates.

If you can cook any pastries or sweets and gift that to her, oh she's over the moon for you now.

Make sure you know all of the traps she set out in the Reaper's Cave, both old and new.

She called dibs on your soul, will fight any other reaper who tries to harvest your soul when your time comes.

Has a special place for your candle, keeping it close to where she sleeps probably - just, you candle if very far from all the other candles in the Reaper's Cave.

Probably has a shrine around your candle, images of you and all while surrounding it with gifts and contraptions she made for you when you comeback to the devildom or when she's up in the human world for business.

Probably also laid traps around your candle so no other Reaper can tamper with your life span or anything.

Loves it when you help her with the making of any traps she's making at the moment - most likely lets you name one or two.

Takes the saying 'Till Death Do Us Part' seriously.

Once you're gone, she will never take another lover - she's that devoted to you.

Calls you her 'partner-in-crime'

Fav. place's to kiss? Cheeks, temple, nose, forehead, and lips.

just anywhere on your face is her fav place to smooch ya.

𝓡𝓪𝓹𝓱𝓪𝓮𝓵

Love language? Acts of Service.

Actions speak louder than words - and boy does this angel take this shit seriously.

He's giving me Stong, Serious, and Silent type [so let's go of that.]

Would probably drop by the House of Lamentation, sees your doing dish and just quietly takes you gently, putting you aside and does the dishes for you so you two can spend time together.

Bumps into while your grocery shopping? DW, he's grabbed the list from you and choicing the best of the best things that are on the grocery list, always checking in with you if this is the right product.

Having trouble reading a spell or remembering an incantation? He made you flash cards, little notes on the thing your struggling in, and willing to sit down and go over the spells/incantation that's giving you a hard time.

Pretty much, if you're doing some hard work - he's gonna set you aside and do it himself.

Genuinely hate seeing your struggle but also thinks it cute [he'd never say it out loud].

TBH, kinda see him l just piercing something as simple as a coffee maker not working right with one of his spears because he's worried that you're gonna get frustrated [yes, even if he know you have the patience to work it out]

But he'd definitely give a warning smite to anyone giving you a hard time or not paying attention to you when you're talking with his spear - don't matter if it's a demon, another angel, or another human; no hesitation.

'Y/N is talking to you - pay attention, please.' // 'back off, next time I won't miss.'

Not big on PDA, but doesn't mind it.

Holding hands? yeah, hugs? yeah.

Walking up behind you while you're talking, placing his hands on your hips and resting his chin on top of your head without saying a single word? yeah.

Honestly, see this guy as the type to not say much unless spoken to - not every social you can say.

You also can't really tell how he's feeling due to how straight faced he is.

Don't worry, once again - he speaks through his actions rather than his words.

Gives you multiple small kisses on your forehead or the top of your head as he mumbles how much he loves you and appreciates you being in his life.

Loves reading you poetry or book passages he finds interesting - not necessarily because he thought of you, just because.

Feels bad when he doesn't get to spend enough time with you due to his statue in the Celestial Realm.

Dates are very simple - walks around town, sightseeing, dinner dates, shopping, just basic and simple dates.

Calls you 'my angel', 'little lamb', 'human', and 'dove'

Fav. places to kiss? Forehead, eyelids, lips, and nose. [get it? they're all ANGEL kisses, yes i'm making that joke twice, cry.]

But most definitely the top of your head and forehead - all while he has a gentle hand on the back of your head and would hold you close to him/his chest after he was done planting them smooches on ya.

[gojomamashouse]

I certainly can. And I did. Well, sort of. I took some creative liberties with this one. Crossposted on Ao3.

Warnings: 18+ Content Vaginal sex, Praise kink, Loss of virginity (both reader and Mike), soft!dom Mike.

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Reader

Summary: From the name written on your sneakers to the hickey on your neck, Mike had left his mark on you in more ways than one.

Words: 5.8k

According to fandom wiki, Mike is 25 in the movie. The timeline of this story is based on this fact.

In Permanent Marker

1995

Mike has a problem. An even bigger problem than his annoying younger sister, or the bills he cannot pay that keep piling up. That problem is you, his new next-door neighbour.

It all began when he had been unloading the boxes from the car, calling out to Abby as she disappeared to explore the new house. The place was small, but enough for the two of them. More importantly, it was as affordable as it could get, given the savings his parents left behind, the money from the government, and his new job. That was all he really needed.

"Need help, there?"

A voice broke him from his thoughts, a voice belonging to you. He did a double take as he looked to his side towards you, nearly dropping the box in shock. He blinks as if you're nothing more than a hallucination, induced by his lack of sleep, dehydration, and the summer heat. Because there was no way that you were standing there. Someone his age. Someone so attractive. Someone exactly his type and talking to him. You take notice of his shocked expression.

"My folks and I saw you from the window," you point to the house left of his, "thought I could lend a hand.”

"Yeah. Yeah, uh," he nods eagerly, breaking eye contact as he fumbles over his words. He looks back towards the house, "If you could watch my little sister while I unload these. She’s somewhere inside…”

“You’ve got it,” you flash him a smile.

—

He’s sweating and close to passing out as he places the last box down in the front hallway, bracing himself against the wall as he catches his breath. He then looks around. There’s no furniture yet. He couldn’t afford movers to help move the couch or the kitchen table from his parent’s old house, instead opting to sell the furniture and find cheaper options once moved in. That meant he’d be eating on the floor until he had time off work again. This also meant he’d have to take Abby table-shopping and listen to her complain every time she picked something out of his price range, then cry the whole drive back home. He groans to himself, annoyed by his endless stream of thoughts. He supposes that’s just adulthood, now. There’s always something to think about.

He hears giggling from down the hallway, grabbing his attention enough to raise himself from the wall. He creeps towards the sound, peeking past Abby's door. A box was open on the floor, toys and crafts scattered across the carpet. You sit cross-legged in the middle of the room at Abby’s side and she’s pointing to her drawings, chattering away.

He wonders how you make it look so easy.

—

"I don't like it here." Abby tugs on the leg of his jeans, "Can we go back?"

It’s the last thing Mike wants to hear the morning after moving in, his back and arms still sore from all that he carried. He looks down to see her lips were pulled into a frown, her brows furrowed. He's leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking instant coffee from a mug he'd managed to dig out from one of the kitchenware boxes, staring at all the shit he has left to do. And, of course, his sister could never let him do that in peace.

"This is where we live now."

"Why?"

"Because it is."

"I don't want to live here."

And I don't want to work shitty hours for shitty pay just to afford this dump, he thinks to himself.

Still, he can't blame her. The place is a downgrade. The toilet in the main bathroom doesn't really flush, her room is half the size of the one at their parent's old place, and he’d discovered more than a few suspicious stains on some of the walls and carpeting around the house.

"Well, that's just too bad."

"I want to go back!" She shouted, her little fingers digging harder into the fabric of his jeans, now trying to tug his leg. He tries to nudge her off, shaking his leg just enough to make her lose her grip, but she doesn't budge. He sighs to himself.

She's at that age. Five years old, and a complete menace. She was smarter than she looked and had begun to realize that sometimes creating a fuss could get him to bend the rules for her, which now meant she was constantly defying him. Constantly picking a fight. Constantly whining about something. And as much as he loved her he could not stand to hear another tantrum, especially not this early in the morning.

"Stop it, Abby. I'm not dealing with this today."

"Nu-uh!"

She screams when he tugs her away with his hands, lifting her in the air while she tries to kick and shove him away. He knows he's bound to have bruises from where she kicks his torso and scratches where her nails dig into his skin. Had he any energy left in him, he might have been tempted to raise his voice at her. That's one good thing to come out of his restless nights, at least.

The doorbell rings and she's still whining when he places her down on the floor. He kneels to her level, hands on either of her little shoulders.

"We can talk about it later, okay?" He lowers his voice, desperate for her to be quiet. Anything for her to be quiet. "Behave. And quit being such a baby."

His words were enough to render her silent, by some miracle, and so he goes to the door, only to see you standing there. You . He knows he's ogling again and he hates himself for it but he can't help himself, not when you're so pretty. He leans against the doorframe, clearing his throat.

"Hey, uh. What are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you, too. Thought you might need more help," You lean forward, taking a peek inside the place and noting all the boxes, "Judging by all this, I guess I thought correctly."

"Guilty as charged," he holds his hands up, cherishing the sound of your laugh.

The moment doesn't last long. He fails to notice that behind him, his sister is teary-eyed, her lower lip quivering. You furrow your brows, about to say something, but the little girl beats you to it.

"You— you jerk!" Abby finally lets out, and you stand dumbfounded at the door, watching the crying girl. She turns to Mike. "I hate you!"

She runs off to some room somewhere and slams the door, the distant sound of sobs easily heard from down the hallway where you two stood. While you stood there in shock, Mike had grown used to these outbursts, but it didn't leave him entirely unfazed. There was still a tug on his heart like there always was.

"She's just having a moment right now," he sighs, his fingers rubbing his temples, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"You're not going to go and talk to her?"

"She hates me. Didn't you hear?"

"You know that's not true," you shove past him, your hand lingering on his shoulder for a moment longer which certainly did not go unnoticed, "come on."

"What do I even say?"

"You're going to go apologize, dumbass."

That's how he found himself standing outside his sister's door. He was about to simply walk in, until you stopped him, your hand on top of his as he reached for the knob.

"Knock first."

He would've asked why but he's too distracted by how your little touches keep making his face grow hotter, so he simply nods and does as you say, raising his fist to the door. He hears Abby's sobs halt the moment he does. He looks to you, and you nod, as if to signal him to start talking.

"Abs?"

There's a sniffle. "Go away."

"Look, I'm sorry for hurting you. Just open the door." You toss him a glare, "Please?"

There's a pause.

"Liar," she hisses, "you're only sorry 'cause they're making you."

Mike is about to retort, but you raise your hand to silence him.

"Abby, we both want to make sure you're alright. Could you please open the door so we can talk?"

There's a pause and then a shuffle, the sound of her moving from the floor to go and open the door. She's red in the face, snot-nosed and teary-eyed. Mike's heart can't help but break at the sight. He's an idiot. A complete and utter idiot.

"I-I'm not a baby," she blinks at Mike, lifting her arm to wipe her snot on her sleeve, "Y-you're always s-so mean to me. I hate that."

"I didn't mean it. I just, uh... I say stuff sometimes." He frowns, a trembling in his voice. He speaks softly as if it will compensate for all the harsh words spoken prior, "I promise I won't say mean stuff anymore. Honest."

"Pinky promise?"

She raises her pinky finger.

"Yeah. Pinky promise."

He raises his own, letting her little finger curl around his. She quickly wipes her tears away.

The rest of the day is spent doing whatever Abby wants. Mike discovers quickly that you seem to love spoiling her. You take her to the park, let her unpack all her toys and leave them tossed all around the house. You end up ordering pizza at her request, as well, and by the end of the day, she’s saying she wishes you were her older sibling instead. Though it’s said jokingly, it still pierces him through the heart.

The day ends with a tired Abby curled up in her sleeping bag on the floor of her room. Now he's with you, you sitting atop the counter at his side while he places the leftover pizza slices from the takeout boxes into ziplock bags. If he had it his way, the day would have ended with all the moving boxes being unpacked, but he supposes a happy Abby makes his life a hell of a lot easier than an unhappy one.

"She's a lot easier than most her age."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I'm the oldest ' kid ' in this neighbourhood. I've babysat for practically every family around here," you sip your drink, "she was very quick to forgive you. Not just any kid does that."

Garett had been the same way. Every prank he played, every cruel joke, he forgave him for because that’s just what older brothers do. The difference being that he was a child back then, not an adult. He may be Abby’s older brother by blood, but he needed to be more than that now. She needed him to be more than that.

He finishes packaging the last slice and throws the leftovers in the fridge. He's now fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie— a poor choice of clothing for the midst of a summer heat wave, but he didn't exactly have lots of options. He supposes he should add clothing shopping to his already long to-do list.

“What am I doing?” He says aloud, “I can’t do this.”

“Don’t say that.”

"This always happens. I get annoyed, she gets hurt, and it’s going to happen again.”

"Nobody's made for this at our age,” you gesture around at the house, then at him, “You're bound to fuck up, that's just inevitable."

"Yeah, thanks,” he deadpans.

"That’s not what I meant. You live and you learn, that's what you do. No one's perfect but we can always try.”

“What if me trying isn’t enough?”

“It’s better than not trying at all.”

He looks back down the hallway, at Abby’s door. Does she care that he's trying? Does she know how much he has sacrificed to give her a semblance of a normal life? He scoffs at himself internally. She's a child, of course she doesn't. That's not her fault. It’s not her responsibility either. She’s the kid, and he’s the adult now. It’s unfair on both sides but that’s the way things are.

"Thank you. For all the help, and everything," He finally says, turning to you.

"That's what neighbours are for, right?" You’re hopping off the counter. It was dark outside now, and fair to assume you’d be on your way home. Only, you halt in your tracks for a moment. "Wait, one more thing."

You pull out one of those disposable cameras from the pharmacy. It’s scratched and beaten up, evidence of its use. He freezes up when he feels your arm draping around him to pull him into the frame and snap a quick picture. He blinks from the flash, and you laugh at the way his eyes squint, shoving the camera back into your pocket.

"The hell?" He raises a brow, "that's going to be an awful one, just so you know."

"I don't care if photos look good. It's about the memories and all that." you roll your eyes, "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early. We're going to finish unpacking.”

You're out the door before he can even reply.

—

He starts to learn who you are, piece by piece. He learns that you don't know a single thing about keeping your curtains drawn shut and that you're completely oblivious to how he's seen you in your room in your pyjamas at night, talking on the phone while you twirl the telephone cord around your finger. He learns that you go to college out of state, which is why you're so insistent on taking photos of everything you can because you get homesick so easily. He learns, that because of that, he won't be seeing you after the summer for many months and struggles to figure out why that thought leaves a dreaded ache in his heart.

The ache only grows the more time he spends with you, whether it’s with Abby or one-on-one. He thinks he’s going to die when he sees you packing up your car at the end of the summer, but offers to help you out regardless.

"Have fun," he says to you, hating how disingenuous the words feel on his tongue.

Your car is now packed, and you're on the steps, him standing on the stone path below. You look up at him with a smile while you're lacing up your shoes. It's those damn shoes you always wear, always torn up and dirty and desperately in need of being replaced. He's not one to talk when it comes to proper footwear, but he swears they are only a thread away from being torn apart.

"I'll try."

You finish doing up your laces, and pull out a permanent marker from your pocket, handing it to him. He gives you a confused look.

"Sign it."

"What?"

"My shoe," you repeat, and he takes notice of your sneakers, varying names written along the white rim already, all in different colours and sizes. "It's something I've been doing since high school. Just to remember."

Knowing how you treasure your photos, it only makes sense to him now. He kneels down and signs it in the black marker, his handwriting atrocious, but evidently an effort to make it appear more legible than normal. He lets go of your ankle when he's done and you smile, raising it to look at his handiwork.

"I tried."

"Hey, it's not that bad."

"It's pretty bad."

You both laugh, and you stand up finally, stepping down to his level. He tries not to show his shock when he feels your arms wrap around him, pulling him tightly towards you. He happily accepts the embrace, soaking up the affection like a dried-out sponge.

"One last thing," you whisper to him, and he feels your hand slip something into his pocket. “Look at it later, ‘kay?”

"I'll miss you."

"I'll be back."

And though he wants to believe you will, he can't help but stare into your dark windows that night, counting down every day until your return. Not everyone in his life has, after all.

He checked his pocket the moment you left earlier that day. It was the photo of the two of you in his kitchen, from one of the first days you met. It was blurry and dark but he could make out the sight of your smile and his face of confusion. The back side has the date written.

He places the photo on his nightstand and rolls over on his back, staring at the Nebraska poster on his ceiling. He took his meds not long ago, his eyes drooping, but his mind unable to stay focused, his thoughts drifting towards you.

—

1996

The last time you called his home line, you said you'd be home in a few weeks, but he still hasn’t seen you yet. The light in your bedroom window remains turned off. He wishes the thought of seeing you again didn’t have him so restless.

Today is his birthday. A whopping twenty-one years old. If he were a normal person, he'd be out with friends, pouring liquor down his throat until he couldn't drink anymore. Instead, he went to work, then returned home late to greet the babysitter on the couch, her middle school textbooks sprawled on the coffee table and Abby already in bed. She’s gone the moment he hands her a twenty-bill, peddling away on her bicycle.

Though the house now has furniture, it still feels so empty. He sits alone on the couch, the sounds from the TV turning into a soft humming. He doesn’t want to think about the dirty plates in the sink or Abby's toys and crayons that littered the living room floor.

His heart skips a beat when he hears a knock on the door. He tentatively gets up, swallowing dryly. It couldn’t be you. You would have called him or said something, right? He’s never been so thankful to be wrong in his life because when he sees you standing there on his steps, in those torn-up sneakers with his name on them, with a six-pack of beer in your hands, he’s immediately grinning like a child.

"Where the hell have you been?" he looks down at the alcohol in your hands, "what's this?"

"A gift for the birthday boy," you grin, "twenty-one. That's a pretty big age."

"Are you twenty-one yet?" He raises a brow.

"You want the beer or not?"

"Alright, alright," he looks into the house, the place dead silent save for the TV. "Let's go out back. Abby has school tomorrow. I don't want to wake her."

Sharing the company of another had become so foreign to him at this point that he forgot how nice it feels to be human. To feel the summer breeze through the fabric of his t-shirt, to feel the condensation from the cold can drip down his fingers, to feel the warmth of the alcohol sitting nicely in his stomach. Hell, he doesn’t even mind how shit the beer you bought tastes, though the initial shock causes him to cough the moment the first gulp is downed.

"Don't tell me you actually waited until now to have your first drink," he hears you say.

"I didn't, but I don't drink that much. Especially not this," he eyes the brand name on the can.

"I was tired of college parties and all the watered-down shit alright? I needed something different."

"Must be exhausting . Getting invited to so many parties."

"Oh, shut it," you shake your head, "trust me, college is lonelier than you think."

He stares down at your sneakers, noticing that not a single new name has been written. One part of him wonders how anyone could not want to become your friend. The other part of him is proud that he’s the last person to sign it, his name standing out compared to all the other old, faded-out ones.

"That's one thing we have in common."

"I take it life's not so great, either?"

"Abby has been acting out less but now she barely talks.” He sighs, “It's... another thing to think about."

There’s a pause.

“Then don’t think about it. Not tonight.”

“Easier said than done,” he rolls his eyes.

"Come on, it’s your birthday and we’re out here moping on your back porch. That's no way to celebrate."

"What do you suggest we do?"

"Something. Anything. I dunno, you're the birthday boy. What do you wanna do?"

"I..." his eyes trail down to your lips and stop. He knows he's being obvious but he's tired enough to where he doesn't really care anymore to hide it. He sees how your brows knit together, and he looks away. "I'm fine doing this."

"That's not what I asked." He feels your hand creep over to his, flat against the porch. Your touch is electric. He allows himself to look at you again. Your eyes are determined and your touch is intentional, he's sure. "I asked what you want ?"

Hesitantly, he lets his hand intertwine with yours. He's barely able to meet your eyes, embarrassed by his cheeks which he knew were most likely pink by now.

"I want you."

His other hand raises to your cheek, his cold hand against warm skin. His eyes speak to you, though his mouth says nothing, asking for permission. You lean in yourself, tired of his hesitation. You can taste the alcohol on his lips, his mouth so tender and sweet against yours. He's gentle and endearingly clumsy but above all else, he's desperate and he kisses you like you'll disappear the moment he lets you go. His hand is tighter around yours and the other that had first been against your cheek drifted to the back of your neck. You hear him let out a sound when your hand runs through the back of his hair and you're both pulling away, still craving something more.

"How much of me do you want?"

"So much," he gulps, "so much more."

There's a grin on your lips as you drag him by the hand, abandoning the half-drank beer cans as you enter the house. Careful not to alert Abby, who was sleeping next to his room, you both tip-toe down the hallway, unable to help the giggles that escape your mouths. Then, the moment you're in his bedroom, you're pushing him against the door, seizing his lips. You feel his abs under his T-shirt, realizing just what he had been hiding under all those hoodies last summer. You feel the warmth radiating from him, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You smile against his mouth when you feel his hand at your waist, slipping under your top to fit right into the arch of your back. He's holding back, you can tell, and it only makes you want to fan the flames and let him burn even brighter.

You tug him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards the mattress until his legs hit the edge and he’s sitting, your body crawling on top of him. And, for someone who had been concerned about not waking his sister, he sure allows himself to make so many pretty noises. He pulls away for air once again and looks up at you like he worships you, his hands on either thigh while you lean your forehead against his own. He then lets out a laugh, still genuine, though hushed.

"What's so funny?" You murmur.

"This is the best birthday gift I've had in years."

"But you haven't even unwrapped me yet," you quirk your brow. "You said you wanted more, didn't you?"

"I did," he hums, his eyes dragging down over your body, shyly. "Still do. If that's what you want, too."

"You already know I do."

He brings his fingers to the hem of your shirt and slowly lifts it, your arms raising to help him slip it off. You feel yourself shudder under his analytical gaze, even though the night is sweltering. You feel the goosebumps rise under your skin as his fingers brush over your body as if to memorize every curve and texture with his fingertips. And though you had done your best to mask your inexperience all night, it became obvious to him, the moment you were squirming before him— topless— the truth.

"I've never done this before," you admit before he can ask you, feeling more vulnerable than ever as he stares up at you, the most anyone had ever seen of you beneath your clothing.

"That's okay," he tilts his head, big brown eyes looking right back at yours, "if it's okay with—"

"I've already told you it is. Everything is okay with me. Please. "

He nods, his hands reaching behind you, and you feel his fingers at the clasp of your bra. There's a flush on his face as he fumbles with it, brows scrunched as he tries to pull it apart. Then, it hits you. The look in his eyes, the uncertainty in his actions, the constant need for reassurance. He's been trying to hide it just like you were. Had your own mind not been so clouded, perhaps you would have noticed it far sooner. You reach behind yourself, hand brushing past his own to unclasp the bra yourself, before letting it slide down your shoulders. There's a glimmer in his eyes as he takes in your half-naked form, mouth parted slightly.

"You've never done this either, have you?" You ask, hands looped around the back of his neck as you seat yourself better in his lap. You try not to make a sound when you feel his erection through his gym shorts, pressed right up against where you need friction the most.

"Never," he manages to say, somehow. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"We'll figure it out."

You're kissing him again, and this time you're the one fumbling to remove his shirt, unable to properly admire his exposed body as his mouth is pressed against yours the moment the garment is removed. You feel yourself start to crumble at every little noise he makes, every little touch and grinding of his hips into yours. Then his mouth is trailing down your neck and his hands are on your breasts, his touch gentle but his lips hungry. You feel his lips suck on a particular spot on your collarbone and hiss, your fingers threading through his hair.

"You're gonna leave a mark.”

He pulls away, not quite sporting a grin, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s proud, regardless.

"Is that a problem?"

"Bastard," you retort.

With that, you're pushing him down until his back is against the mattress, leaving your own trail of kisses down his neck and chest, a flurry of butterflies in your stomach every time you hear his noises, and whispers of praise. You reach down for his shorts, tugging them down, this time you're able to get a better view of him beneath you. Your hand traces the outline of the muscles on his abdomen and chest, feeling your face heat up, again reminded just how built he was. As if he couldn't get any hotter, you notice the trail of hair leading from his belly button, disappearing beneath his boxers. You suck in a breath, your pupils blown wide.

“I'm gonna go insane if you don't touch me right now,” he says, allowing you to realize just how long you had been staring him down.

The words go straight through you, reminding you of your arousal between your legs, and how you were currently sitting right on top of his dick, the only barrier between you being each other's underwear. You rock your hips against him and hear him whine, your hands flat against his chest. It almost scares you how good it already feels, without having done much of anything at all.

"You have any condoms?" You ask.

"Yeah, think so," he stammers, his eyes darting towards his dresser.

You get up, feeling his eyes on your ass as you dig through the drawer, sifting through clutter. Momentarily, you smile when you find the photo you gave him last year— before returning to the task at hand. You find a condom buried at the very back.

"Were you prepared for this?" You tease.

"I don't think that far ahead. They’re free handouts from sex Ed, senior year."

"If you actually paid attention in that class, you'd know that condoms have an expiration date."

"I did pay attention," he says as you settle yourself back on top of him, the foil between your fingers. "They're not expired yet ."

"Yeah? What else did you learn?"

You suppress a yelp when you feel your position forcibly switched, your back now against the mattress with him hovering over you. The condom had disappeared into his hand.

"That you probably shouldn't be on top for your first," you feel his hand at your panties, brushing your clit over the fabric, "and that you're gonna need more foreplay than just dry humping."

You notice how he looks at you for approval before tossing your underwear aside, admiring how your slick coats his fingers. You'd touched yourself enough times before to know what this feels like but somehow, when it's him doing it instead of yourself, you already feel you'll fall apart at any moment. Your clit is swollen and your hole flutters around nothing as his fingers continue to tease you. Fortunately, he slips his middle finger in before you can scold him for being a tease— and fuck it's so much more than you're used to. His fingers reach inside you better than yours ever did you feel your mouth go agape, your hand reaching to clasp over your mouth out of fear your noises will echo through the mostly silent house.

"Mike," you plea, but to no avail, one hand still desperate to muffle your sounds while the other gripped the bedsheets.

“Is it… am I doing it right?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “please, don’t stop.”

You’d heard horror stories before from others, about how aggressive some men were with their first times. But you think Mike is the opposite. So gentle and considerate— uncertain and awkward, sure, but with a willingness to learn and try.

“Doing so well,” he whispers sweetly, “you’re so perfect.”

You're so close to reaching your high that you almost wish you could strangle him the moment he pulls away, leaning down to capture your lips into a kiss. You then hear the sound of the foil being torn apart and the feeling of his dick rubbing against your centre. Despite his smile, you notice the worry behind his eyes. He's terrified. So, you bring your hand to his cheek.

"I want this," you reassure once again.

He nods.

He slips the tip in and your body spasms, the intrusion feeling so foreign. He watches your expression change with each passing moment he spends pushing into you. He loves the way your lips part, how your lashes flutter shut. Loves how your brows scrunch together. All because of him. You’re so soft and warm around him and he’s struggling to cool himself down.

"So much," you comment, your eyes half-lidded when he finally bottoms you out, your bottom lip pulled by your teeth. He tries not to let the compliment get to him, otherwise, he knows he’ll be finishing faster than he wants.

"You're doing so good," he whispers, his hand intertwining with your own, "taking me so well. Can you keep doing that?"

You nod, and he whimpers, taking another thrust. Your nails are digging into his shoulder blades but he doesn't care. It’s another distraction, helping him hold himself together while you take him. He takes another thrust and nearly loses it when he watches you whine, tilting your face to the side.

“More,” you let out.

You feel every inch of him inside you, pressing against your most sensitive parts and though the initial discomfort hadn’t fully yet faded, you start to feel yourself getting lost in pleasure the more you accommodate him. You continue to drag your nails down his back, the knot inside of you growing tighter. You reach down to touch your clit, aching for more stimulation, but he’s quickly replacing your hand with his own, rubbing circles into you.

“So good.”

“Yeah?” He stammers out, finding it difficult to string words together in the moment.

“You feel so good, Mike.”

He didn’t realize how fucking hot it would be to hear you say his name while you’re fucked out like this until you do, and he feels himself losing a grasp on himself.

The feeling inside of you starts to snap and your body is thrashing around as you approach your high. He feels you grasping onto him like he’s your lifeline, shaking through your cries, which are muffled by your hand on your mouth. He, too, reaches his limit, and he’s burying his face into the crook of your neck in the hopes that he isn’t too loud.

All that’s left is the sound of both of you breathing when it’s over, and you hear him get up, throwing the rubber away. The bed dips at your side and you feel him on top of you again, head buried into your neck as he holds you. You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips, your fingers raking through his brown curls.

It's different from all the times you've touched yourself beneath your sheets in the dead of night. Instead of coming down from your high and laying your head against a cold pillow, your head is against him. You can feel every beating of his heart, every rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. You can feel the stubble on his chin and jaw tickling the crook of your neck. You're shaking, sweating and your whole body aches, yet you want nothing more than to lay here with him. And though you could have given yourself to some other person in college, you know it would not have been the same with anyone else other than the messy-haired brunette who lay atop you.

"Missed you so much," he whispers, "please stay?"

You stare at your house through his window, choosing not to think too hard about the view he has into your bedroom from this angle. Your family wouldn’t care.

"I'm here," you respond, pressing a kiss to his head.

[mbslost]

Another yapping session with MB yipeee!

nah in all seriousness i would like to talk about some things, now that my temper is gone.

we still remember the post on twt made by @/renhanasgf about Gato not being more inclusive, oorrrr that her poc character are ignored. (i wont talk about the real stuff from discord in this post since proofs are still gathered.)

well here i am! (sadly)

1.How many poc characters?

7 well known (or maybe more). who are those? well we'll start with Raven(tinr) or known as Selin as well, Chet Ichpujani(tinr/tpof), Strade(btd/tpof), Thomas(tpof), Jaqueline(tpof), Machete(tpof) and fucking Derek(tpof)

some of them dont have a full name (besides an alias) either because story wise it didnt mattered or because of their lore (Strade and Machete are criminals, doubt they would want a victim that escaped to expose their identity, no?) Also another detail, even some white characters do not have a last name,such as Sid(tinr), Dragon/Jace(tpof), Komodo/Mike(tpof), Chamomile(tpof), Richard(tpof) and probably some from 'Facility'.

their ethnicities are indeed unknown, either because it wouldnt really affect their story or it was avoided in case it could cause a conflict. dunno. about this i cant really talk a lot since her blogs are gone, thus i cannot dig into this matter anymore. although i believe having a hc on them is fine. ''- It is 100% okay to have ANY headcanons about my character!''-her website)

Raven was one of the well know character from Gato that is poc. her nationality is unknown due to the story (which i would recommend you to read tinr, pretty cool tbh). since her story goes deeper i would suggest you to also read her wiki (fanmade). sadly lots of stuff are now gone about her. still a lover character.

Strade. Strade is Strade. (kind of forgot what she said in the answer about his name but the wiki says ''Strade is not his actual birth name. It's similar to a placeholder name like John Doe. His birth name is unknown." still you can check out more here)

Chet Ichpujani is another character involved in tinr, a manager (i believe) at a semi-restaurant thing? in the end he offers to help Farz with his problem. pretty cool guy since he and Anthony Shore re-appeared in tpof. (picture below)

Machete, ''Machete is the newest member of the desert group. He had to prove himself worthy by performing various criminal tasks to be allowed in. Despite his recent acceptance, the rest of the group remain wary of him. His quiet demeanor and decisive actions tend to unsettle the other members. He regrets everything he's done to be admitted into the group, but he chose to stop at nothing to get revenge for his sister. He feels as though he's completely lost his identity and humanity to his "purpose"." -wiki (also a small detail, he did everything to revenge his sister)

Tom/Thomas, ''Tom is a college student, taking a media development course centered around sound design. He took a few years off high school, kind of meandering through life without an aim for a while. However, he eventually found a passion for making music. Despite tons of research and hard work, he was never really able to get his brand off the ground, so he decided to head to college to get some formal education on the subject. Late one night, as he was about to head home, he was abducted by Komodo and Dragon.'' -wiki

Jaqueline, "Jaqueline is a young trades worker learning to paint houses. She takes pride in her work and also frequently goes to the gym. Her mother pesters her to get a higher education, but she loves her current career path. Due to the friction with her family over her job, she tends to choose to spend time with friends instead. She was violently abducted by Jack in broad daylight, unlucky to have no witnesses." -wiki

therefore, there's plenty of information, plus that lost from her blogs.

2.Model minority

must agree, her work from 2016 looked alike yet, in the last years she actually showed more bodies (like types)

here are some examples:

also Strade's new model as well:

quite diverse, is it not? i am aware i didnt show others as well but if you wish to (and i actually encourage to) you can view the rest here! Lawrence, Ren, Celia (or on pinterest!)

3. Conclusion

i still believe everyone can create whatever they wish, whatever character. the details are on their part. now i could understand Gato for being upset when someone doesnt draw their character as they are (such as changing the body type, skin colour, etc) but also cant blame those who feel like being ignored (trust me, had to survive the genshin fandom).

so the characters exist, thus i dont see the problem of not being inclusive (also, as she often said, you can hc her characters, thus i believe their ethnicities are free to chose for yourself)

that's it. as for the real deal (the discord stuff) i believe it's the best more proofs come. rn i dont see her as a racist artist, but that comment in spanish does sound in fact xenophobic... well, until more context is posted, we'll see

stay safe!

[pandagyaru]

A lost Tau leads to Romance

Description: Tau runs away from Hassian to visit you!

Warnings: None! This is a sfw fanfic!!

Pairing: Hassian x Gender Neutral reader!

Author's note: I love Hassian so much dude, only reason I play Palia for real <3 /hj. I've only been playing it for awhile so I'm using Palia wiki for info and what I've come across in game! I also see no fanfiction for this game and I'm gonna change that 1 fanfic at a time!!

The night was still, the only sound the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind. You had just settled in for the evening when you heard it—a soft scratching at the front door. At first, you dismissed it as the branches of the nearby tree brushing against the wood. But then, it came again, more insistent this time. Curiosity got the better of you, you hesitated, hand hovering over the handle. With a deep breath, you flung the door open, expecting to see something horrific. But it was just

"Tau? what are you doing here boy?" You ask. He turns his head to you, tongue hanging out. "where's Hassian?" You look around the dark abyss that was the woods around your house, the only light being your garden lantern you set out when you first moved in and a few stray lightning bugs. No hassian in sight.

"Come on in" You open the door for Tau, he trots on in; tail wagging behind him. "He's probably worried about you Tau" Said plumehound raises an ear up at his name, turning around and barking at you.

"You're no help" You deadpan. "Guess you're staying the night, you're lucky you're cute" You joke. Tau jumps on your bed, yawning and walking around in a circle till he lays down. "Glad you're comfortable Tau" You walk over to the bed, turning your ceiling light off as you walk past. You plop down on the mattress, jostling Tau as you move under the covers. You close your eyes and drift off, your thoughts filled with that pretty hunter named Hassian. (Completely cause you're worried about Tau and not at all cause of other things).

You wake up to hot air being blown on your face, really stinky hot air if you were to be honest. You peek your eyes open to see Tau's snout in your face, his tongue hanging out as he breathes on you. You push his face away gently. "I'm up! I'm up!" He makes a noise as if he's laughing at you. You glare at him. "I got some left over sernuk meat, if you want breakfast" You tell him, he yips in excitement; jumping off of you and sitting patiently near your kitchen counter. "I'll take that as a 'yes please (name)'" You get up, shivering at the cold of your floors; you dig around under your bed for your house slippers. You silently cheer as you find them, dragging them out and slipping your feet into them. Tau huffs at you in impatience as he watches you "slowly" move around your kitchen, he clearly wants the sernuk meat he was promised.

Hassian trudged up the pathway that leads to the gate of your mountain home, following plumehound prints (ones that clearly belong to Tau, cause who else has a plumehound besides him). He slowly closes the gate as he walks up to your front door, listening around for Tau's barks as he knocks. You look up from your stove as hard knocks sound through your house, you walk over to the door; Tau padding behind you as his hair raises up in warning. You open the door to see Hassian!

"Oh Hassian! Perfect timing, I think this is yours" You joke as you move out the way of Tau. He barks at Hassian as he runs up to him. Hassian sighs out in relief.

"Thank you for taking care of him (name)" He says, scratching Tau's ears.

"It's really no problem. I'll take of him anyday. Speaking of taking care of him, I was just about to give him some sernuk meat. Wanna come in and eat with us?" You ask him, hoping he'll say yes. He looks you over as he thinks, his eyes going from you to the happy plumehound next to you.

"Sure, why not" He says, walking into your house as you move aside to let him in. He sets his quiver on the floor near your coat rack, walking over to your kitchen table. You close the door and walk over to the stove, grabbing the packaged sernuk meat and taking one of the raw steaks; holding it out for Tau. He walks over and snatches it from your hand, scarfing it down. Hassian holds in an amused chuckle. You look over at him as you put the other steaks away, grabbing ingredients to make a nice Veggie fried rice.

"He scared the crap out of me last night, I was reading letters that i got from everyone and he was scratching at my door like some crazed chapaa" You tell him, getting a bowl to wash your rice in. He looks down at Tau and then back at you, a small smile on his face at the look on Tau's face at being called a crazed chapaa. You turn the faucet off and put the bowl of fresh washed rice up, grabbing your cutting board and some veggies.

"So how much do I owe you?" Hassian asks, reaching into his pockets to grab out a small pouch of gold coins.

"You don't owe me anything, You company is payment enough Hassian." You tell him, putting the vegetables in a pot of broth. He looks at you questionably, putting the pouch away slowly. Your face warms the longer he stares at you, you cough awkwardly as you pour the rice into the broth/veggie mixture. He looks away from you, his face a dark purple. Tau looks at the both of you with his head tilted to the side, questioning you two.

"well then!" You clap your hands, putting 2 bowls on the table and sitting down. "Here you go Hassian!"

"thank you" He mutters, grabbing a spoon and dipping it into the fried rice. Tau whines at him and headbutts his leg. Hassian looks at him and then back at you. "Hey uh (name) would you like to go with me on my next hunt?" He asks, not making eye contact. You look at him, your face flushing.

"I'd love to Hassian" You whisper to him. He looks up at you wide eyes for a second before he "fixes" his face and stature.

"Cool. Cool Cool Cool" He says, face palming in his head. You smile.

"Cool. Cool Cool Cool" You repeat, giggling.

HOPE YOU LIKE IT CAUSE IT TOOK ME A FEW HOURS <3

My creative juices did not flow for this one

LOVE YA

[shadow-fell]

On Moonrise Towers, the Thorm Family, and the Shadow Curse

Once another compilation so that I don't need to go constantly digging for things. A general timeline of events:

Reithwin town founded by the Thorm family

Moonrise Towers constructed

Melodia Thorm dies

Isobel Thorm dies

Ketheric turns to Shar

Gauntlet of Shar constructed/rebuilt; Reithwin turns to Sharran worship

Nightsong is captured by Ketheric and Balthazar

Flaming Fist sends Art Cullagh to investigate Ketheric

Harpers, Druids, and Flaming Fist team up to fight Ketheric

Mason who built Moonrise Towers + the Gauntlet of Shar makes a deal with Raphael; Yurgir kills all the Sharrans in the Gauntlet/Grymforge save one

Ketheric is killed, Shadow Curse released

Survivors of the battle flee

Ketheric resurrects, turns to Myrkul

Gortash and the Dark Urge bring Ketheric in on the Absolute plan

Ketheric resurrects Isobel (maybe before ^ but probably after)

Isobel flees to the Last Light Inn

Now, expanding on the details, sources, and adding some firmer dates? that's all going below the cut.

Construction of Moonrise Towers

The first, and as far as I know only reference to Moonrise Towers outside of BG3 is in the Code of the Harpers, where it is described as the base of the Crescent Coat, officer of the High Heralds (a group spinning out of the Harpers, referenced by Halsin in game), in 1368.

So, we know when it must be established by - but how much earlier can we go? Pretty far given that the Thorms are elven/half-elven.

Our best boundary is that we know Balduran visited Moonrise Towers before becoming an Illithid. His initial departure from Baldur's Gate and shipwreck happened around 1050 DR, at 300 years before BG1/2, so he has to come to Moonrise Towers sometime after that. FR Wiki states this is ~1150 or later, but I don't know where they're getting that from? I think that's a reasonable timeframe, though.

We know the same architect built Moonrise as the Gauntlet of Shar (from talking to him in the House of Hope), but there's no record of what race he was (only meeting him as a skeleton), and if an elf could easily still be working a few centuries after the construction.

Ketheric is a half-elf for sure, though, but he is an old one. How old exactly is hard to say. 3rd edition gave "old" at 93, with a maximum age of 130-190, while 5e just says "often exceeding 180 years". If we take that he looks the way he did in ~1370 as his death, that places his birth at a minimum of ~1170, but probably later, and the construction of Moonrise Towers ~1200 at the earliest, which is maybe a bit long for Balduran but not unreasonably so.

The other thing of note is that Moonrise Towers has a 'sister' in the Sunrise Spire, a Lathanderian Monastery destroyed in 1177 during a territorial war. Combined with the (undated) fall of Rosymorn Monastery, there is perhaps something interesting about the regional shift from Lathander to Selune, and the construction happening after the destruction further supports a date around ~1200.

Personally, I'd want to push things earlier rather than later - it wouldn't be difficult to say that Ketheric is more elven than human, pushing his age a bit further out, so somewhere between 1180-1200 fits the sweet spot. But really, all we have for sure is "before 1368"

Melodia and the Thorm Family

Melodia Thorm is a human worshipper of Selune, who married Ketheric Thorm and converted him to her worship. They had a daughter, Isobel, who was young when Melodia died (or, at least, Melodia still called her their little girl).

Ketheric is a half-elf; every other member of the Thorm family is an elf - Malus, Gerringothe, and Thisobald all have the longer ears (although the hood makes this less clear on Thisobald).

Malus refers to (presumably) Ketheric as his nephew, making him the only certain branch of the family tree. Gerringothe, we have no idea where she fits in, although as a full elf, we can assume no one is Ketheric's siblings, only parents/aunts/uncles/cousins/more distant relatives.

Thisobald...is complicated. He calls Ketheric father, however, the phrasing is ambiguous (capitalized in a religious sense) in addition to the lack of reference to him in accounts of Melodia/Isobel, and the fact he appears to be fully elven. The two possibilities is that Thisobald and Isobel are half-siblings, with Thisobald's other parent being a full elf, and this being the source of disconnect between him and Ketheric, or that Father is not literal and he is related to Ketheric another way.

We know that Malus Thorm was alive in 986, where he recorded battle casualties from a Dark Justiciar/Selunite/Druid conflict. Given that only the Dark Justiciars are named, it seems likely he was a Sharran at that time. If we take the date as legitimate and not referring to the 1370s conflict, then at least Malus worshipped Shar before Reithwin turned to Selunite worship.

Gauntlet of Shar

Around 800 years before Ketheric Thorm's turn, Grymforge was a city of Shar worshippers. He attempted to revitalize it - creating or rebuilding the Gauntlet of Shar in the process.

And, yes, these two are connected - you can see the entrance to the Gauntlet from one of the points in the lava and through the hall where Nere is trapped. There is a further section not accessible seen from where the Mimic fight is, mainly what appear to be another set of docks.

While we're told the Mason constructed the Gauntlet, given that Shadowheart has heard legends of it, the more likely option seems to be it was rebuilt, since it's quite a large place to construct in only a handful of years. Especially if Malus was a Sharran in 986, it would explain the presence of Shar worshippers before Ketheric's turn.

So, we have the initial Dark Justiciar trials around 600 DR, followed by a decline (with the Gauntlet perhaps lasting past the fall of the city, hidden under Reithwin) enough to establish a myth that can then be built on in the 1370s.

Death of Isobel

How Isobel died is an unresolved plot point, revolving around cut content, so it's hard to call anything "canonical" but the two potential paths are as follows:

In the earliest version, she was killed by Halsin, during a meeting between her (and other Reithwin locals) and the druids, before Shar's influence (and the song of the Nightsong, potentially) drove them mad, and Halsin stabbed Isobel with Sorrow, leaving it cursed). This sparked the conflict between Ketheric and the Druid-Harper alliance.

In a later version, Balthazar killed her, framing Aylin for the deed, which led to Ketheric capturing her and trapping her in the Gauntlet of Shar. Isobel was tethered to Ketheric, and needed to be separated before he was killed

Either way, Isobel has no memory of her death upon being resurrected a century later. It happened probably ~1370, triggering the conflict. While it may have happened earlier (with Ketheric keeping his Shar worship hidden) probably not earlier than 1368.

Conflict with the Harpers

Alright, so this is where we get back into figuring out hard dates. Generally, this happened a century ago - so ~1392, but any time something is that round I always assume it's off.

Again, we know things are business as usual around 1368 because of the Heralds; this means that while Ketheric may have turned to Shar, it wasn't public. However, we do have some dates related to the conflict.

The Harpers try and fail to surrender in a letter by Khelben Arunsun - he's expelled from the Harpers in 1371, founding a splinter group, and dies in 1374. That makes 1369-1370 the most likely timing.

However, the records from Moonhaven and from the Emerald Grove push it to being a later date. Uktar 1371 is the date that the Apothecary and Apprentice arrive from Thay, the start of the Apprentice's journal, which ends with the Dark Justiciars killing him. Toth's logbook is the Apothecary's account, and has a raid in late Uktar and in Nightal; this may be the same year, but more likely later. We know there was at least one failed raid on Moonhaven before it fell completely.

Uktar 1371 we also get the Logbook from the Emerald Grove - they're dealing with far more minor problems and presumably aren't yet at war with the Dark Justiciars, which further supports the idea that the raids on Moonhaven happen in 1372 or 1373.

To account for Khelben's presence, we could assume the failed surrender is from an initial conflict in 1369-1370, that ended with the Harpers retreating, but more likely, the threat Ketheric Thorm posed was enough that the Harpers and Moonstars (Khelben's splinter group) were in alliance - after all, it wasn't a clean split and there was still a great deal of overlap, and he's still the Blackstaff.

The details of the conflict are largely uncertain. We know the Dark Justiciars destroyed Moonhaven, and presumably some other villages, and that the shadow curse claimed the region around Moonrise Towers and Reithwin.

However, we do know how it ended. The Mason made a deal with Raphael to destroy the Dark Justiciar army, which brought Yurgir to the Gauntlet, where he killed all but one (hiding as a swarm of rats). While we only see Yurgir's impact in Grymforge and the Gauntlet, presumably Raphael helped with defeating the entire army.

How Ketheric died and came to be buried in the mausoleum is unclear, but in the final moments of the battle, he cursed the lands around Moonrise Towers with the Shadow Curse, killing many of the Harpers and Druid, and lasting for well over a century, until he came to be resurrected in the name of Myrkul.

My Proposed Timeline

You've read the evidence above. This is therefore a mix of canon, reasonably makes sense in canon, and completely made up headcanon

1492 - Balthazar resurrects Isobel; she flees to the Last Light Inn

???? - Balthazar resurrects Ketheric, he becomes Myrkul's chosen

1373 - Yurgir kills Dark Justiciar Army; Ketheric dies and the Shadow Curse falls

1372 - Dark Justiciars spread out and attack local villages, destroying Moonhaven. The Emerald Grove, Harpers, Moonstars, and Flaming Fist ally together

1370 - The Nightsong is captured, used as the final test for the new Dark Justiciar army Ketheric builds

1369 - Isobel killed by [Halsin/Balthazar/???]. Ketheric completes turn to Shar, forces Reithwin to convert, has the mason begin reconstructing Grymforge

1350 - Melodia dies. Ketheric's faith begins to waver.

1340 - Isobel born

1325 - Melodia and Ketheric marry

1300 - Melodia born.

1200s - Moonrise Towers constructed; Reithwin slowly builds up prominence as a trade stop amon

1170s - Ketheric Thorm born.

1150s-1250s - young Halsin grows up in the lands around Reithwin, where he befriends Thaniel.

980s - Dark Justiciar/Druid/Harper conflict, Malus Thorm attending. Sharrans in the region go further into hiding; Reithwin is known as a Selunite enclave.

600s - Grymforge is a thriving Sharran city. Dark Justiciar trials are held within the Gauntlet of Shar.

[gortashs-skidmark]

KAR’NISS HEADCANONS and CANON Facts about DRIDERS - for my monster fuckers out there - get out of bed, come get ya’ll’s food -

I used they/them for Kar’niss. They literally canonically do not have genitals. It doesn’t mean they’re non-binary they could have preference but idfk what they go by and being inclusive is fun.

Not proof read. Will be grammatical errors. 18+ MNDI, MATURE CONTENT FAR BELOW WITH FOREWARNING.

CONTENT WARNING: mentions of suicide, gender mentioning, impact of philogynistic Drow society, sterile peenid cum, smut if you read down far enough, self hatred, religious trauma, religion themes, murder, killing, blood suckin’

Canon first, to back up Headcanons

𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕾𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕾𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕾𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴

Okay, let's start with CANON FACTS ABOUT DRIDERS, so ya’ll can dig deeper into the Kar’niss iceberg.

Info Source: Forgetten Wiki Realms

Utilizes 4th and 5th Edition DND lore

CANON

What is a Drider and How Do They Live?

- a Drider by definition is; “drows that had been transformed from the waist down so they had the body of a spider. The transformation was typically a punishment for failing a test of Lolth”

𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕾𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽

- Driders are transformed into Lolth’s Image, supposedly. They are transformed using a Yochlol process.

- Yochlol; “a lesser type of tanari’ri demons also known as Handmaidens of Lolth, although the term “handmaidens” was used rather loosely. The Queen of Spiders had these 8 limbed abominations infiltrate Drow Societies, normally undetected”

- they have four forms available: ooze, humanoid, spider, and gaseous. Their typical (Drider) forms are 8 feet tall and weigh 160lbs. They’re often Black Widow spiders with fangs.

𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕾𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽

- Driders are canonically sexless!!! Lolth didn’t want to have an army of enemy Drow spider babies against her. Clusters of hundreds of spider babies and colonies aren’t possible. As cute as that is.

- they cannot safely live among Drow Society and are outcasts, they leave after they’re turned.

- They’re violent hunters. They’re filled with shame and fear. Explains his dialogue.

- Most of them are suicidal and want to die in battle bc they’re miserable.

- THEY DRINK BLOOD EVERYBODY. They need to sustain life and drink blood every 4 days. I wonder who the unlucky’s at the tower were.

- usually Drow end up killing drider’s for Lolth. Drider’s are super cautious when dealing with Lolthite Drow.

- immune to all poison, they sap your strength, can poison and paralyze for up to 20 minutes. Their dark vision is shorter than regular Drow. Have really really good stealth. Like crazy good hiding skills. Sometimes they’re spies for Lolth among regular Drow society.

- they have about the same abilities at Lolth Sworn Drow that are blessed. But they’re outcasts.

- THEY ARE KNOWN, to be mentally unstable and it’s hard for them to feel fear. When Kar’niss tells about staying in the light he’s mad not fearful.

- Driders walk like spider but cannot walk on ceilings. They’re too fucking heavy dawg.

- only about half of Driders can spin webs.

- the process of turning into a drider is similar to wyll’s, for visual and mental understanding. And it can be undone with a Wish spell.

- Driders typically live alone, or with 1 or 2 buddies. More rarely they can live in nests of other Driders (heaven forbid you walk into 7 Driders living together)

- calling a Drow “eight legs” is seen as a threat

- it’s possible for Drider Living to be temporary with the spell Spiderform, or specialized spell Dridershape.

What is the Rite of Passage given by Lolth?

- it determines loyalty and strength.

- it’s a battle to the death between Drow. The testée(hehe) and a slightly stronger tester.

- Lolth’s loyalty test was placing the Drow against a friend, family, lover, ally who the Drow trusted. Is your god higher than your relationship? Something of that effect.

- if the Drow didn’t have friends or family, a Cleric of Lolth who wasn’t super into their religion was the tester.

- 3 outcomes; the subject that one took the corpses power for a month, you die and your soul is collected by Lolth, if you don’t win or kill the enemy you’re turned into a Drider.

- Drow can suffer memory loss of the entire event (Shar and Lolth have to be on the same wave length) and then Lolth will accuse them of murder of another Drow, which is illegal in Drow Society. So they’re outcasted.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔

Headcanons

• Kar’niss was turned into a Drider because of betrayal. I think that’s why theyre obsessed with being loyal to their moon lamp. They would’ve been obsessed with Strength if they failed that part of it. (They have 127 hp on explorer dude)

• Drow hate the light, they really do. But Kar’niss loves their lamp like a moth. They are so obsessed with the voice in their head and the lamp they carry. I think the Absolute is their new Jesus, obv, but they didn’t need a tadpole to prove it (although they have one bc you can see inside their mind)

• putting a tadpole in their brain was a loyalty test.

• they lived alone before. I think living around other Drider would’ve slightly improved their mind. Even if they’re all mentally unstable. Suicidal roomies with the same mental problems.

• they still carry some pride, and they’re righteously snide with all the Absolute followers. They’ve found some grace again in the Absolute, after they Failed their Loyalty Test.

• They hate Drow. Completely. Look at what an evil-by-godly-nature did to them.

• can’t have sex. 1) they’re kinda mindless 2) they don’t have the genitals bc of Lolth.

• they can feel intimacy. They do a little spider dance to impress you.

• sometimes you clap your hands to communicate with their tippy taps. It’s your silent language you made with them.

• the shorter extra arms near their abdomen, you find them cleaning and wiping blood off themselves with it. Flicking and wiping in a very spidery manner. Uses it like an extra pair of arms. They’ll hold shit with them if you ask.

• their fractured mind is filled with loyalty, light, and determination. You cannot rip this sucker away from the Absolute. The Absolute accepts all and that’s why they love their new Goddess.

• you could convince The Emporer to give them their own mind but then you’ll have to do recon and emotionally de-attach them from the Absolute.

• if you have Minthara in your camp, and you’re tryin’ to romance Kar’niss, you’re getting twice the challenge. She hates them, and they hate her. They’re not buddies, for a long time. She’s Lolthite and a vengeance paladin.

• They get really offended if you squish spiders instead of gently relocating them out of the way, or just leaving it be. They take it personally.

• They’re not fuzzy. Not one bit. They have a hard shell, shiny and rigid. They’re black-widow adjacent. Their fleshy abdomen and face don’t get poked often but it’s the comfiest part to lay on.

• you could boil their legs like crab meat.

• they have traction alopecia like jojo siwa. Not their fault they have extra eyes.

• some of their eyes are blind, or have near/far sighted problems. They have just okay dark vision but the extra eyes don’t help. You tend to guide them via extra web string or they memorize the way your gait walks.

• females have the worst eyesight, thought both sexes use frequencies disturbance on their webs to see. They use the extra eyes for light and motion, they’re kinda really bad at seeing.

• Kar’niss spins webs, they love to chill in hammocks they spin for themself, and you. It’s super cozy and sticky and warm. They will make intricate woven patterns of webs for you to look at (maybe they’re part orbit weaver). Your favorite is when they leave it overnight to collect dew drops.

• Kar’niss has a super phlemmy hum when they talk, it’s very comforting when you’re against them. They also use it as frequency to communicate with you, the deeper the more dangerous, it almost sounds like a roar when they yell. The lighter and more purr-like, the happier they are.

• they’re really cold. Their hard outer shell, and need to feast on blood (they lack it), means they don’t have blood that pumps through their body. Their webs are warm tho.

NSFW BELOW

¥ Kar’niss can’t fuck you with Spider Dick, but if you really want them to have a sex, then they’re sterile. No Spider babies.

¥ if you do give them a sex, it’s at the lower abdomen on their Drow body. Idk kinda hidden. And it’s cut. (Lolth hates men that’s why I think that). It’s rigid, long, the base gets a hard spider shell.

¥ if you don’t give them a sex, they fuck you with those shorter extra appendages near their abdomen. Those are their extra set of arms (in spider terms)

¥ their nails (fucking claws) are super sensitive. You can’t cut them. They’re more like cartilage, and it’s not unpleasant to be fingered with.

¥ their body is super sensitive and aware. They have that 6th spider sense and they’re good at being quiet, if you ask. You could attempt to pleasure them by stimulating their chest, neck, stomach, certain spots on their spider parts, especially the underside of their spider legs.

¥ they just like to be cuddled and holed up with you. They’re not super fleshy, not terrible comfortable, but they love your soft body.

¥ you let them drink blood from you, sometimes. If you’re into that. Astarion has some competition then.

¥ they’re not poly. Although the spider in them would say other wise, they’re still human most days. They need a lot of attention towards their problems and jealousy is something that comes easy to Kar’niss. Not even up for a one night threesome.

¥ if you’re a girl (she/her), they treat you like you’re above them. It’s natural from their original society. Like it’s a bit weird the way they do it. You gotta talk to them to reassure you’re on the same level. Gotta break that habit. Even in bed you’re like okay this praise is turning in a weird direction.

¥ if you’re a man or they/them, they feel more comfortable immediately. It’s common ground. They do not have to suck up out of habit. Which leads to great sex.

¥ you can feel the cut on their lip when you kiss. You can taste the days of hunger they go without blood. Their nails lightly trace down your back. They kiss you lightly, more often than not.

¥ if they’re kissing you hard, it means in that moment they’re feeling an incredible amount of emotions. You can indulge or take a step back. Kar’niss doesn’t feel a lot but when they do it’s important.

¥ they enjoy it when you praise both of their bodies. They get a little flustered about their spider body but you can show them it’s just as beautiful as the rest.

¥ they’re technically naked at all times. Armor isn’t comfortable. They’re bearing themselves at all times. You have access to their body at all times. By body, I mant pednis nd bawls.

¥ their spider dance, is meant to be mating. It’s gonna charm the pants off of you. It’s like Wyll but more cute-bug-core. With a sense of purpose. They will do different dances, and combine purring/humming frequencies toward you with their taps to woo you.

¥ the spider dancing is a lot of abdomen twitching and hip shaking. It’s a jittery court.

¥ btw fun fact; when jumping spiders wave and kinda dance, they’re signaling others to catch prey. :)

¥ male black widows tend to get eaten after giving their sperm to females, the fact Kar’niss is male, is also pretty rare. They should’ve been eaten by a female by now. When you eat their cum it’s alarming on a spider sense level. They know their sterile but like you’re supposed to store it in your body until you want babies. Which is also not possible unless you’re gith. And Kar’niss is sterile, by the grace of Lolth.

¥ Kar’niss was supposed to be a one night stand. Black widows are incredibly solitary, and only meet up to breed, and possibly be eaten after. They feel lust, but they’re not expecting feelings from you after. The fact you even want to breed with a freak like them gets them all giddy and prepped.

¥ after mating, Kar’niss does feel inclined to try and woo you again. A dance, a dinner, play music, give presents (webbed prey neatly wrapped on your tent step). Thought incredibly spooked. They don’t know how you’ll respond.

¥¥¥Don’t bite them during sexy time it scares the fuck out of them.¥¥¥

¥ I am making them out to be very spider like but they’re also just as human. They hum music, sit/looks like crouching on their legs. They can be playful if you open them up. They find comfort in touch and words.

𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊

Checkout my Tiefling Canon Facts for fanfic writers and fanartists! more stuff like this coming soon :) or my masterlist <3

Currently working on; He Who Was Headcanons with Shadar'kai facts and events

[fog-kid]

I saw the wiki writing about q!Jaiden's death and got an idea. Here's to the end of Parrotduo

Roier doesn't believe in gods, he doesn't believe any creature could be as cruel to orchestrate this Hell. A lot of people in the island do though, when they talk about certain things that have no logic behind them.

Like when Spreen went missing, that was okay. Roier never let go, he's not the type to forget, but he could live his life normally because at least he had somewhere to place his hate.

One day, a normal day, no big fights with codes or books from white bears, just a simple day, the island realized he was dead.

That's when Roier got bitter because all this hate was left with no vessel and when it all sprang back to him, he had no choice but to look at it. Nowhere to shove the love that was tangled between all his ill wishings.

He doesn't believe in gods, but that time when everyone came to the same conclusion, they decided there was more to it all.

Today, Roier is in a cellar when he finds out. He can almost see it being written, Purgatory, not arriving on the ship, nuclear bomb. If there are gods, they are awfully descriptive and he once again wishes to be a non believer.

He hugs his legs, guilt nagging at the base of his throat and ending at the nails that dig into his pants, because he has to mourn in a body that's not his. He almost doesn't want to picture her, she's too good for this foreign brain. Doied doesn't deserve to even come close to the pain that's stitching his eyes, he has no place where Jaiden is concerned.

Still, there's nothing to do, and his tears are more him than the cheeks they slide down, because him and Jaiden, that could never be about a body. That was deeper, so much deeper. All of a sudden there's a hole in his chest where she was supposed to be and he knows there's a piece of him lost somewhere that should have stayed in Jaiden too.

That would be it then, he feels it swell inside him and break his ribcage, all of the words he never got to say and the smiles he never got to watch. The fight they put up, the nights they cried themselves to sleep. More than a heartbreak, it's a matter of soul.

"Is there anyone left?" he wonders aloud when the dizziness from days without sleep draws a perfect picture of her in front of him. Her wings look ethereal like never before

"Where do I put all this love if there's no one left?" he tries asking. Her smile was always too much like a setting sun.

She doesn't answer but it's clear to Roier like it was clear to her when she stayed. They never had answers, they never asked each other these questions because the other was always wondering the same thing.

He wonders now, alone and nothing but a mind trapped in treacherous flesh, if she will manage to find Bobby. He wonders if he has anything left to fight for. He wonders, for not more than a second, what it'll take to see her again. See them again.

And off she goes like everyone Roier comes to love. He should be used to this by now. He's not.