#i like comparing them no one else does but i think its interesting

[asaxophony]

80% of my thoughts when alliance raids devolve into chaos are i want to see these ppl in a Vow run. Memorize 26 symbols and be able to call them out instantaneously boy. Make them do Riven legit. I think the funniest like difference between how i see ffxiv mechanics vs destiny is like I will do blind destiny raids they dont stress me out tooo bad depending on the ppl I’m doing it with but if I go into anything in ffxiv blind im like i’m going to throw up.

[batsplat]

deeply compelled by this photo

[todayisafridaynight]

OH about the finale at the shrine, this completely slipped my notice when we were talking about it, but Ichi says he's "reporting" Jo's verdict to both Arakawa and Masato. It's just not translated that way.

Not too big of a difference (well, it is to me, but I'm insane), but if it was highlighting anything, I'd guess it's probably Masato's change of heart. It would've been fair for Ichi to assume Masato wouldn't care and only "report" to Arakawa, but in the context of Ichi doing his damnedest to show Masato they all love him, it works in terms of, "Maybe I made him reconsider, and maybe now he would care."

Also... I'm looking at it in a "measured" way, since the chapter trophies are always just standard "Nth Chapter Cleared" messages that the localization team just spices up for us, but there's something I find really poignant about the Chapter 13 trophy being worded as "Fate of Our Fathers." The pluralization of both the noun and pronoun. Realizations that come too late.

Of course, Masato definitely didn't "know" and had no real reason to suspect it, but the Arakawas have this bizarre subconscious almost-psychic link. So even if he doesn't really think so, there's this sense that Ichi "might as well" be Arakawa's "real" son because they're so much more alike. And maaaybe he felt that way about Jo and himself at one point, because (as we've discussed) there has to be a reason Jo was Masato's "favorite."

[Follow up to this ask]

[sukunasweetheart]

oh, to fit him like a glove...

WARNINGS; ooc sukuna, virgin!reader (well... not for long), size kink, BREEDING, vaginal fingering, sukuna only has one dick here cuz i wanted to make it less complicated, COCKWARMING, stomach bulge, degradation, praise, sukuna is a four armed king, overstimulation, mouth-hands, EXCESSIVE CUM

based on this anon's ask! dividers credit; @/cafekitsune

word count; 3k

imagine being sukuna's precious princess of a wife-- whom he spoils and dotes on because its in his interests to do so. like any other woman, youre tiny compared to him, so having you take his cock eventually will be very tedious work, and sukuna will need a lot of patience.

and we all know, sukuna is the most patient man in the world... at least when it means that it'll be worth it for him at the end. and to him, you are worth everything.

he's proud and pleased to be your first... sukuna can't help but feel keen about the idea that he will be the only one ever to have had the pleasure of being so intimate with you.

he watches you intently, as you struggle to take even two of his thick fingers in your tight hole, tearing up and whimpering as he tampers with those delicate spots inside you.

"nngh.. sukuna... that feels so good..." you whimper his name delightfully, it almost makes his enduring patience snap.

outwardly, his face looks calm as he looks down at you with soft lust that takes the form of an almost blank expression.

"does it?" he asks, with a certain playfulness in his voice.

his fingers move a little faster, scissoring you inside and pressing in an upwards manner, where it makes you gasp the most. you're producing so much slick, but your hole is still so tight and unrelenting, clenching around his thick digits even more. sukuna thinks about good it'd feel if his dick was inside instead, and he feels himself aching with desire, twitching and leaking precum from his hidden erection.

...not yet.

he dutifully touches you to your orgasm, and watches with a hitched breath as you tremble on his fingers, walls fluttering against them. your sighs and soft moans reach his ears like nothing else.

his extra hands grope at your breasts, finding solace in them.

"do you think i'm ready yet?" you ask tenderly, after your breath returns to normal.

"... hardly, my love. that was only two of my fingers," sukuna tells you languidly, as he feeds your slick on his digits to the mouth on his stomach.

"only two? oh dear..." you sigh with sorrow, "will i ever be able to take you whole one day?"

he smirks at the question, and leans down into your chest while holding ahold of your hand.

"well of course. i'll make it happen no matter what. i promise."

the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.

when it does happen, you best be ready for him to breed you full every night.

however, on some days, the urge gets unbearable, even for himself. he's been saving himself up a little, so he could pour everything inside you when the time comes, but the lust gets overwhelming, clouding his sight and judgement.

one night, you gesture towards the bulge in his pants, with a shaking hand.

"what about you? isn't it painful to always withhold yourself like that?" you ask, wanting for him to feel good as well, instead of just yourself.

sukuna grows silent, sweating bullets as his dick throbs upon your mention of it.

the next minute, he's taking it out and slotting it between your thighs, rubbing up against your slit and seeing how the size compares to your stomach.

the temptation is too great.

not. yet.

this was the whole reason he was avoiding using his cock with your body in the first place - because he was afraid he'd cave in and attempt to deflower you when you weren't ready yet, still too tight for him to squeeze in, causing you pain only.

if it were anyone else, he wouldn't bother... but you're one that he cherishes too much... he wants to work to make the end result even tastier. the moment where he'll finally claim you entirely.

the bed creaks as he thrusts in and out between your thighs, rubbing his twitching dick against your hole oozing with slick, also brushing up onto your clit that's swollen from arousal.

" 'm sorry... i wish... there was more i could do..." you whimper sweetly, squeezing one of his large hands.

"there's no need for that. whatever i can't put inside you now... i'll pump in twice as much, once you're ready for me," sukuna whispers gently, holding your hand back, a groan resounding in the back of his throat.

rewards become so much sweeter after restraint. like how you wouldn't pick and eat an unripe fruit from a tree.

"you're doing plenty enough for me... for now," he tells you breathlessly. he adores the glossy look in your eyes.

his cock continues to glide back and forth, and he feels so hot between your thighs.

"i... i want your tip inside when you cum, please," you say, eyeing his dick with a certain neediness.

"are you sure, love?" he asks, hoping you'll say yes. you nod fervently.

sukuna feels lightheaded at the thought of it, all the while his dick gets more and more sensitive against your thighs... his balls feel so heavy and full, all those times he held himself back coming to catch up on him.

you squeeze your legs around him harder, making him groan, cock pulsing for all it's worth. he thinks about how tightly your walls would clamp around him. the heat from your insides, and your slick covering his shaft. he's close.

he suddenly spreads your legs.

at this stage, he's only barely able to get his tip past your entrance. it's possible when he does it slowly enough. you whine beneath him, doing your best to not go against his arms that are pinning your legs down.

a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face. sukuna uses an extra hand to stroke the rest of his dick as his tip remains snug inside your puckering hole. when it comes, he gives a choked-off gasp from how good his first-in-a-while release feels.

he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from burying himself any further.

the ropes of cum seep and trickle into your womb in thick, heavy spurts, and the hotness of it gets you breathing unevenly, being so aroused by this sensation. there's a copious amount. he continues jerking himself off to get every last droplet out, and his own hand can feel the intense twitches of the veins on his erection.

it's not nearly enough to satisfy him, but it's enough to keep him patient.

once his tip pops out from your wet hole again, his spend come out of it in large globs, and sukuna can't help but admire the sight, his dick twitching weakly in his hand.

he abstains from cumming all over again for another few weeks- another few weeks of stretching you out with his fingers, and prepping you to perfection.

when the day finally creeps up, where he believes you're ready to take him whole, sukuna hears and feels his heartbeat in his own ears.

ever so slowly. he's sitting down on the edge of the bed, and he has you lower yourself on his throbbing cock as he's face to face with you, ever so slowly. your body trembles lightly and he feels it on his hands and fingers as they're placed against your hips. sukuna senses your anxiousness that flows from you in large waves.

your hole is so tight, trying to push the intrusion out, but the wetness from your slick helps his cock slip inside easier, and sukuna's breath is kept within the back of his throat as you swallow him up deeper and deeper.

he's sweating. you're sweating. but soon enough, you're sat on his lap completely, having gotten all of him inside you at last. you can barely breathe with how tightly you enclose around him. how his cock is nudged up snugly against your cervix, pushing the literal air out of your lungs. and the way you feel it twitching inside.

sukuna has never been more patient, more self disciplined, more repressed than in this moment. one wrong movement and he feels like he could snap and start thrusting in without concern for you in any moment. no. he shouldn't do that. it would ruin all everything he's done to build you up for this moment.. but your walls keep tauntingly squeezing around him...

"i- i can finally fit all of you inside..." you say with glee, tears on your lashes, but looking very proud of yourself. it snaps him back to sanity, a little bit.

"of course... you were made for me, after all. so perfectly mine, fitting me like a glove," sukuna mumbles, as his bigger tongue licks against your clit, arousing you more so that you could loosen up for him. his praise gets to your head and makes you feel sheepish, wanting to do more to please him. but you don't think you can do that, just yet.

"can we stay like this for a bit, please?"

"that would be...for the best. can't have my wife splitting in half, can i?" sukuna jests rather sinisterly.

"oh, you..." you pout at him. the larger tongue rubs against you more persistently to distract you, and he smirks as it does the trick. you whimper, and your walls pulse gently around him making him groan. your eyes get half lidded, already feeling somewhat exhausted, and you lean your face against the large man's chest.

veins are bulging out of his arms, and one on his forehead. you seem so relaxed, unbeknownst to the fact that he's currently doing everything to keep himself together. you're like a tiny mouse trapped in the claws of a tiger.

sukuna starts to bite and kiss down your neck and shoulder to satiate himself.

few minutes after you've calmed yourself a little, your eyes start wandering down, taking notice of the bump on your stomach, from having him inside you.

"it goes without saying, but you're so big..." you press against it without thinking, and you feel him throb inside you intensely. sukuna grabs your wrist with a growl.

"are you trying to test my patience right now?"

you look at him with wide eyes, from how unusually on edge he is... something about him being all restless makes you feel aroused. you're doing that to him. a man who rarely ever feels. but you've gotten him all sensitive.

" 'm sorry. kiss me?" you ask sweetly, lips curling up in a foxy way.

his gaze softens.

"when you ask me so sweetly... i can't deny you, can i?"

and he leans down to press his lips onto yours, despite seeing the mischief in your eyes. your arms go around his neck, and as he's kissing you, his hands go for your breasts.

you tighten up on his leaking dick, making him moan into your mouth. his grip on your hips squeeze harder, but he doesn't stop kissing you.

you want to make him cum. you want him to lose control from being inside you.

sukuna breaks the kiss with a little choked off heave, when you begin to roll your hips around him slightly.

"you're getting awfully ahead of yourself-"

you cut him off by latching your mouth to the side of his neck, suckling and running your tongue against his skin while your hips keep moving.

he'd call you cute, but it's working. sukuna grits his teeth and his eyes get heavy lidded, dick getting impossibly harder. his heavy breathing adds to your excitement.

"i never knew my wife was such a whore. i'll be sure to return this favour later," sukuna tells you with a low voice, his hands now guiding your hips against him.

you're wordless, as you continue running your lips and tongue up his skin, moving onto his jawline, only giving a whine in response, feeling his tip press into the entrance of your womb.

such lousy movement usually wouldn't be near enough for him, but...

his head lulls back, exposing the way his adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows thickly, getting close... your little kitten thrusts and the way you're tonguing the sensitive area under his jaw...

sukuna's hips jolt into you for the last time.

" 'm cumming-"

his mouth hangs open as he releases - dumping weeks' worth of seed into your cunt. his body jerks against you and you bite into his shoulder.

his cock throbs erotically in your clamping walls, and you milk him effortlessly, and you moan on his neck, while still suckling and tonguing the same area, feeling the hotness of his cum as it thickly pours into you, making your belly swell a bit from it.

sukuna groans as he seeds your womb properly for the first time, two hands on your hips, one against the back of your neck, and the remaining arm wrapped around your waist to keep you still as his dick pulses inside you.

your head is whirring from the tense situation, being creampied so lewdly for the first time, to think that he's released inside, and the feeling of his every breath as he orgasms, is enough to make you feel so exhilarated.

suddenly, he stills.

it makes you a little nervous, so you detach your upper body from him and aim to look at his expression. but before you can make any further movement, you're suddenly thrown onto your back against the soft mattress of the bed in the speed of light. he keeps himself buried in you, making sure to plug you up nicely.

when you meet his eyes after a shocked gasp, you see his darkened expression, his eyebrows furrowed, but his mouth curved up in a toothy, sinister grin.

"you really tested me back there, didn't you?" he rasps, grabbing your face and forcing you to keep your gaze on him.

"i hope you're aware that i'm not letting you get a wink of sleep tonight."

not a word gets out of your mouth, before sukuna pulls his dick back, and slams his hips into you, his thick cock dragging against your tight walls.

your voicebox makes a noise that you never thought was possible, a noise that's mixed with both a moan and a scream.

"oh, fuck..." sukuna mumbles gutturally, beginning to thrust in and out of you the way he's always wanted to. your hands fist the sheets behind your head, and his hands keep your legs spread apart for him, while the other two pinch at your breasts roughly, groping at your flesh so brazenly.

his heavy balls slap against your ass as his hips rut into you, making sure to drive himself in to the hilt, before pulling out to the tip and doing that all over again.

you squeal and mewl under him, eyes watering from pleasure and already getting overstimulated as he fucks you senseless. to think that only a few weeks ago, you were only able to fit two of his fingers. it all feels like a fever dream.

sukuna breathes heavily, his muscles glistening from his own sweat as he indulges in his reward, his reward of you, and your cunt that is finally nice and loose for him, sheathing him so nicely, coating his dick with your slick like the harlot you are. his laboured breaths stutter when your walls pulse around him as you reach your orgasm-- your head tilting back into the mattress.

cock leaking more precum into you, sukuna's eyes become half lidded again as he gets close to his second release.

"you're gonna drive me crazy," he grunts, as his tip reaches your cervix again and again and again.

his thrusts become erratic, and then halts as he busts another thick load into you, making you cry out pitifully.

"fuuck, fuck, fuck...." sukuna shudders, leaning down on his forearms, getting so close that you feel his breath ghosting against your skin, while his other two hands grip onto the sides of your hips. his pecs rub up into your tits and the tongue from his stomach messily laps away at your clit as he empties his balls into you, your pussy seemingly trying to squeeze him dry.

all of his eyes close up as he then kisses you like he's trying to swallow up your tongue. you whimper against his lips, doing your best to reciprocate, struggling to keep up with the pace of this kiss.

he breaks away from your lips.

"c'mon, not good enough. put your tongue into it more," he instructs breathlessly, with somewhat of a disappointed expression. your mind is too hazy from the intense lust but you give a short nod with teary eyes, which makes him smirk before pushing his lips onto you again.

you kiss him back the most you can, and he hums in pleasure, your tongue finally intertwining with his. it distracts you from how full you feel right now, even with only two of his loads in you.

his thrusts slowly start back up again.

"s-sukuna-!" you gasp, breaking the kiss.

"i warned you... it's gonna be a long night," sukuna tells you. he seems to have become more sound of mind after that second orgasm.

"give me more..." he mutters, leaning against the crook of your neck, and licking a stripe up against it, "my precious wife."

your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tight. he grins, and you feel it on your skin.

... eventually when his third load fills you up, he's running his tongue against the shell of your ear, two mouths sucking at each of your nipples, from the way he clasped his palms over your breasts at the last second.

you're trembling beneath him, tears now running down the side of your face, babbling nonsensical words at him.

sukuna leans back to run his third hand through his disheveled hair to slick it up again, and he grins at your state of overstimulation. he feels so good inside you. it was worth waiting and preparing you for so long.

once your orgasm subsides a bit, he finally detaches his mouth-hands away from your tits, making a line of saliva stretch between in the process. then, the mouths disappear. your body relaxes. but sukuna's cock is still inside you.

"you alright, my love?" he asks smugly, looking down at your state of fatigue caused by intense pleasure.

you mumble out something of a 'yes', and he chuckles. his eyes trail down to your now slightly pudgy stomach.

"you're so full with me, my dear wife. haha, it's quite the lovely sight," sukuna tells you softly, pressing his hand down softly against the swell of your tummy. you jolt a little, whining.

"sukuna... too full..."

he leans down closer to your face and wipes the sweat off your forehead, before bringing his lips to the same area gently.

"we can stay like this for a few minutes. rest up. but we're not done yet."

he hasn't even had the chance to sink his teeth into you yet. just a little more. you can do that for him, can't you?

Masterlist

[hedgehog-moss]

I think English is more efficient than French in a lot of ways but if you guys would just let us donate a few diacritics, I swear it would change your life. Imagine having an accent to indicate which syllable in a word is stressed. You look at it and you immediately know. It’s more efficient than guessing or remembering, you have to admit. Spanish does it because Spanish loves you, while English revels in confusion and fear. What about an accent that tells you if the ‘read’ you’re looking at is the one that’s pronounced read instead of read, or one that lets you know if the letter i in a particular word is pronounced ai or ee. I’m still not over that time I had to talk about Pride & Prejudice in English class and couldn’t remember which one was pronounced which way. Just add a little circumflex. Prîde and Prejudice. The word even looks more prîdeful now that it’s got a hat!

French is such a nanny state of a language in comparison, “a is a verb and à is a preposition and cote is pronounced with the mouth slightly more open compared to côte, we MUST dispatch our best accents to provide assistance and prevent panic.” We’ve got 15 accented letters and special characters (é, è, ê, ë, à, â, ô, ù, û, ü, î, ï, ç, æ and œ) and many of them are just here wringing their hands hoping that thanks to them you won’t be confused re: pronunciation or meaning, or even slight nuances in verbal mood. French is gently guiding you by the hand around potential pitfalls of meaning like “it’s vital for the past tense of ‘have’ to be spelt eut in the indicative mood and eût in the subjunctive else you might be confused as to whether the verb carries a connotation of conjecture or doubt <3”, English is driving you home in reverse down the highway with broken headlights at night like “had had, who cares! I guess homonyms and syllable stress might trip people up once in a while? thoughts & prayers”

Then again not all of our accents are terrifically useful, some of them are more like people doggedly holding on to a job that modern life has rendered obsolete, like the circumflexes that are just here to tell you that an s used to live here (forest -> forêt, haste -> hâte). We keep them around because they make the word more interesting (bonus etymology!) and nicer to look at but I wouldn’t mind giving them away for a good cause. French is lying down next to a pond fascinated by its own reflection while English is racing by with such efficiency it sometimes trips on its own feet and faceplants but together we could be normal. Ish.

[mrsackermannx]

chef!sukuna who’s still lower in the rank than he wants to be, but so close to being a sous. tonight is his night to do the night’s special dish, finally. he earned this. he knew that if the head chef just let him, he could create the best dish ever served at this damn place.

so, he does just that.

he’s immediately scolded, the dish uses too many ingredients, the head says. too much to prepare. too ambitious. even though he used all of the left over ingredients from the menu’s usuals. 0% waste, 0% additional cost.

sukuna curses, taking a deeper drag of his cigarette. “make sure no table gets that shit,” he hears, with his fists clenching at his sides. ill go to the gym after this, he thinks, yeah, punch the fuck out of that bag.

it turns out that only table 8 has the dish, your table. the server messed up and now they’re crying in the back to the porter because they’ve been fired on the spot. “i told you not to fucking take it! have you never done expo-“

sukuna stalks calmly to the shaking waiter, “show me table eight-“ he sighs, levelling the head chef with a glare, sukuna was much larger, much stronger than him, difference in rank or not. he stood down, stalking down the other side of the kitchen with a huff. “ignore him, i wanna see who’s eating my dish, come on, let’s go.”

a reassuring pat to the shoulder from sukuna was almost enough to make him cry even more. sukuna kind of hated everyone.

“just there, chef. the couple, bedside the pillar on the left…its um…her, chef.” he grins, watching how transfixed the normally gruff man is, “your girl heh heh.”

“shut up,” he says, but he smiles a little.

he watches you, sat opposite some guy you hardly look interested in, you’re beautiful, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, as always, his eyes are drawn to you, no other woman could compare.

he watches you slice through his dish, the fork at your lips, as soon as it reaches your mouth you make a noise of such rapture, a sudden quiet falls upon the floor of the restaurant.

it’s almost weird how heat rushes low at the sight and the sound, he can’t remember the last time anyone else fired him up like this. he never took himself to have any kind of food fetish, either. yet watching you eat his dishes always seems to be an erotic exchange he never anticipates.

“oh…him? think they’re married?”

“i don’t think so.”

that man seems to hiss at you, eyes on his watch, barely touching his dish. “i wanted pizza downtown, god.”

you shake your hand in dismissal, shoving another forkful in your mouth. “i wanted this, i always want this.”

sukuna let’s out a breathy fuck, and the server practically faints.

no one was immune to sukuna’s charm, then, it seemed.

“oh, fuck, table 7 saw me. fuck, chef ive already been fire-“

“go and give them a reason not to fire you. go, go to your table kid, it’s still yours, right?”

the table beside you seems to have called him over, asking for the same dish you seem to believe has came from heaven, telling anybody who asks.

sukuna can’t help but enjoy the lively affair, as the restaurant manager tries to explain over and over to more and more tables that the chef special has been cancelled. oh, how he loved this little bit of chaos.

“why?” your voice clatters through the cacophony like a piece of silverware on crockery. “this dish is phenomenal, the best ive ever eaten here and in this city, in this country-“

“miss-“

“taste it! can you not taste the hard work? the thought? its the best thing ive ever eaten. the chef who made this has impeccable taste and talent.”

your laughter rings through the place at your partners embarrassment. sukuna is about to pry himself away and head back into the kitchen, leaning on the side of the bar and then…your eyes meet, another forkful is waiting before those glossed lips. another sweet sound of joy rings through the air.

now you see him, huh?

your smile is sweeter than agave, “it’s you.”

your words are lost on everyone around you, but to sukuna he hears them as if you whispered them right against his ear.

sukuna was a tall, broad, and unquestionably handsome man, unmissable out of his chef whites, invisible in them, somehow. obscured by the ambient lighting of the restaurant.

you near him, like a moth to a flame, a sensual air to the way your hips flick toward him. “you-“

the head chef storms through to the restaurant floor, the door slamming you both into the corresponding wall. his large arms wrap around you, his hand cups the back of your head.

he slowly retracts his hand, and your chest rises as you resist the urge to press your cheekbone into his palm, “are you okay?”

his voice is deep and addicting, dark and dripping down your throat.

you’re beaming at him, like he’s an angel, like he’s somebody you already adore. he gifts you a lover’s laugh, “you seem to be the only satisfied person in the building tonight.”

“seems like you’ve satisfied me sir.” you wink, still letting his aura press you into the wall, he cages you in with his arms.

“oh?”

“last thursday. that soup, you made it, didn’t you…?”

“sukuna,” he answers for you, “maybe.”

“seafood special last month?”

“yes, and your name?”

for some reason he’s out of breath, you’re so close, so fancy in your silk dress, clad in jewellery that sparkles even under these dimmed lights. “reader, you…you’re a genius.”

“so you came to thank me personally?” he leans closer, swiping sauce from the corner of your lip. it lingers on his thumb, his eyes chase yours as he licks it. “how sweet of you.”

[jaspvids]

The Diagnosis Of David

Disclaimer: I am by no means a mental health professional. This is just a meta-analysis.

What do we think of when we think of David?

His values of kindness. Optimism. Hope. Conviction. Passion. His drive to do his best every single day. The way he always makes an effort to reach out to others.

But also:

Attachment issues. People pleaser. Rose-colored glasses wearer. And at times, though the fandom doesn’t want to acknowledge it — Selfish. Unstable. Rude. Hypocritical. Kind of a dick.

See this video I made;

He’s complex, so let’s try to unpack him, and figure out what he’s got going on under that floof.

On David’s Childhood

David has been through a number of traumatic events in his childhood, most notably:

Witnessing Jasper fall to his near-death.

Finding Jasper, and being almost mauled by bears during the escape.

Clown school was apparently very bad, given the flashback-like reaction he had when it was mentioned. I’m unsure of his age when this occurred, however.

The fight with Jasper at the cave before they parted ways.

Losing Jasper. He says Cameron told him he was picked up by his parents, but I’m not convinced it’s not just his mind trying to erase painful memories.

As far as what we don’t necessarily see in the show, but can infer, David’s father was either not present or not great. He dreamt Cameron was his real father, as seen below.

And we all know Cameron is an awful father figure to begin with.

Yet, that’s better to David, apparently, than whatever he had at home. Which implies it was likely a pretty bad situation.

This can also be backed up by his attachment to the camp — growing up (and even now) it seems to be more of a home to him than his actual home.

That’s a home that hasn’t ever been mentioned, by the way. Contrary to Gwen, we know absolutely nothing about his family. He hasn’t talked about them once, if I recall correctly.

David is often open with emotions, if not wearing his heart on his sleeve. So why would he never mention his family and home?

We know why.

Even as an adult, he has retained this attachment to Cameron (who has in turn, continued to use this attachment to his benefit). He gets very excited about helping Cameron change in “keep the change” — because he needs to believe people who hurt him can get better. Otherwise, it’s too painful to bear.

The Loss Of Jasper

Part of his childhood, but significant enough to warrant its own section.

Jasper and David had a very interesting relationship. We’ve seen in the past that David was pessimistic, foulmouthed, and hot-tempered, directly compared to an optimistic, peppy, popular Jasper.

But then Jasper saw Cameron’s real self, and David received a modicum of praise for what was likely the first time based on his reaction. And so, they basically did somewhat of a switcheroo.

(David takes on many traits of Jasper after this experience, showing that he does admire him at the end of the day. I believe these traits are the foundation of David’s many masks.)

Despite the whole shebang, further episodes show us that they form a strong bond (or maintain one, we don’t know what happened before the first Jasper and David episode.)

What makes this friendship especially crucial in David’s development is that I believe Jasper was the first person to truly stand up for David.

David is, as we have seen, easily manipulated. Jasper picks up on this, and knowing Cameron’s just trying to use his best friend, tries to take Cameron down.

Jasper essentially died trying to protect David.

If Jasper hadn’t died, I don’t think David would have ended up as gullible and dependent as he is. If he had the more rational and realistic Jasper by his side during the rest of his developmental years, I believe things would have ended up much, much differently.

With Jasper’s death, there seems to be nobody else at camp who knows of Cameron’s crimes, or possibly, doesn’t want to speak out about them. Nobody to stand up for him. Nobody to redirect him.

So there’s nobody to stop the unhealthy-attachment-train from picking up speed.

Cameron And David’s Relationship

Cameron is manipulative and abusive towards David. This even becomes physical:

Despite this, David continues to idolize him as is seen in many cases of abuse. He works his ass off maintaining Cameron’s camp. Cameron’s approval makes or breaks him, because this is the man he sees as a father, unfortunately.

In addition, David is unable to let go of the hope that Cameron can change, because he’s convinced himself that deep down Cameron is still “good”, based on his skewed perception of him. And we all know how that ended.

But as Diane from Bojack Horseman once said —

And that is David’s problem — he wants so much for there to be a “deep down”, that there will be a day where Cameron showers him with praise and throws signed adoption forms at him, etcetera.

He judges Cameron not on who he actually is, but who he wants him to be. And so, the unhealthy attachment remains.

(Which is, of course, incredibly destructive to his mental health.)

Other Things We Know About His Mental Health, From Canon

We know he takes meds.

We know he has (sometimes dissociative) panic attacks.

We know he has been seen to suddenly snap, even to the point of violence.

My Final Conclusion: C-PTSD

(As the trauma has been not just one event, but many over the course of his life, and among other reasons, I believe CPTSD fits better than PTSD.)

David meets much of the criteria, most notably:

Lack of emotional regulation

Dissociation

Flashbacks

Anxiety

Guilt and shame

Distorted perception of abuser

Relationship difficulties

Okay this was long I’m tired good night.

[sporesgalaxy]

Pacific Rim isn't anti-nuclear in the same way Kaiju movies usually are. The resolution is facilitated by the detonation of a nuclear warhead and a nuclear reactor power core. So........what's up with that?

I mean, it's deeply American, obviously, but what else? Why does it not feel particularly pro-war in the same way, say, a typical MCU does? What does it mean that the Kaiju are prompted by human activity (carbon pollution "practically terraformed" Earth for the invading aliens), but are ultimately not a true manifestation of Nature's Wrath (not even from Earth)?

What arguments is Pacific Rim making in the place of the typical kaiju movie anti-nuclear-pollution, wrath-of-nature fare?

I stream-of-consciousness rambled about this for multiple paragraphs and don't feel like cleaning it up much. Basically: I think Pacific Rim is a commentary on the myriad problems with political responses to climate change over the years.

•••

So, in the Great American Kaiju Movie, two nuclear blasts save the day rather than creating all the problems. Despite the fact that at least one of those nuclear blasts still probably did a lot of collateral.... I do wish Pacific Rim had focused a bit more on collateral, and the environmental damage caused by both the Kaiju and, inevitably, the Jaeger project AND Wall of Peace. Food rations are mentioned once-- but surely metal and construction equiptment rationing must also be in place to allow for wall construction! I want my environmental messages shoved violently down the audience's throat, damnit! But I digress

I think an important detail to consider in the Kaiju/Nuclear discussion is how Mako and Raleigh's Jaeger's nuclear power generator is what really allowed them to save the world, multiple times.

The history of politics around nuclear power plants vs nuclear warhead production is interesting, especially in the typical kaiju movie thematic context of man carelessly abusing nature. The argument in defense of nuclear power plants is that, despite the need for extremely rigerous and long-term nuclear waste disposal considerations, there is a lower volume of waste created by nuclear power plants in relation to the energy provided by them, when compared to other modern methods of energy generation like coal power. So, in theory, nuclear energy could be a beneficial power source for minimizing environmental impact.

In the Kaiju movies I've seen, nuclear power is only ever addressed as an extension of the inherently unnatural and harmful abomination of the invention of.the nuclear warhead. It's understandable, the environmental devastation caused by radioactive pollution is massive, and its something a nuclear power plant is very capable of doing if enough goes wrong.

So, what do the Jaegers represent within this conversation? what does the Wall of Peace represent? Here's my thought: they represent (more) active versus passive solutions to the growing threat of climate change. Jaegers represent the way that active work against climate change is only funded as far as it is beneficial to the image of the government.

Yes, the Rift was found to be impossible to blow up with nukes, but it's pretty clear that the world governmemts were putting more money into the publically popular and flashy Jaeger program than they were putting into researching the increase in Kaiju frequency and a permanent solution to the issue. Because of the complicity the world fell into once Kaiju and Jaegers were Rock Stars, the root of the issue with Kaiju goes unadressed for an entire generation, in favor of defeating each Kaiju in impressive and propogand-izable ways.

Only once the problem becomes too big for the propoganda-friendly Jaegers to manage do the world governments start looking for alternate solutions, and the Wall is immediately shown to be too little too late. As soon as it stops being useful for propoganda, the government loses interest in truly solving the problem, and begins investing in moving itself inland and leaving poor coastal populations to die.

The kaiju are only able to be defeated in Pacific Rim because a group of people separate from the government comes together and searches for a solution to the root of the issue-- the Rift being open in the Pacific at all.

Nuclear power is therefore not posed as a solution to war against fellow humans, but is used as a solution to a collective human effort to fight the exponentially speeding destruction of the Earth. The Jaeger pilots and everyone else working in the resistance HAVE to be willing to do anything, willing to take drastic active measures, in order to stop the destruction of the Earth's climate. Yay :)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

an impolite use of magic

I was rereading Malleus’s Dorm Uniform vignettes to gather information for another post! Something that stuck out to me upon the reread was how magic can be used in an insulting or disrespectful way. We often hear about how both NRC and Twisted Wonderland itself has many rules and regulations which govern magic and its uses—but it seems there is a social component too.

A quick summary of the aforementioned vignettes; they center around Malleus trying to make it to a dorm leaders meeting. After his peers fail to successfully remind him of their appointed time and day, Malleus decides it would be easier the other dorm leaders come to him rather than him going to them. He then casts a spell which transfers those he wishes to meet with (the headmaster and dorm leaders), bringing them directly to him. This is where it gets interesting, because it is Malleus using this spell on his peers that offends them.

Azul indicates that he had never been treated with such disrespect and that Malleus’s act is an insult. Vil and Leona express upset that Malleus seems to think of them as nothing more than objects, luggage, a pen, or a book. Malleus says he does not understand why everyone is mad because the same spell he used on them, they use all the time to summon their magical pens to them. Riddle clarifies: “PENS ARE OBJECTS AND WE ARE HUMAN BEINGS!!” Lastly, Idia likens the situation to being treated like a familiar that Malleus sees fit to summon at his beck and call, which is also just as irritating.

Judging by the other dorm leaders’ reactions, we can infer that most mages find it extremely impolite to have a spell which is typically used on objects cast on them/living beings. Riddle implies you must obtain consent before doing so, otherwise it violates decorum. (This aligns with the idea that magic is usually formally regulated; for example, medical mages must still get their patients’ consent to operate on them or to heal them.)

Reviewing the other lore we know of, this piece of magical manners (?) makes sense. It seems to be okay to cast object-oriented magic so long as permission is granted. For example, in Floyd’s Labwear vignettes, Adeuce are shown practicing color changing magic on an apple. Vil would use similar color changing magic to alter his and his father’s clothes when they were being hounded by the paparazzi. A similar situation would occur in Lilia’s Suitor Suit vignettes, in which Malleus uses his magic to create a suit on Lilia that perfectly matches his image. I’m sure there are many other examples you could think of; these are just the most obvious ones that come to my mind.

Where does that leave us? Well, with a bunch more questions!! Firstly, what else is considered rude use of magic? Secondly, are spells which violate control over one’s mind and body also considered transgressions of social norms??? They must be, right?? Then why was everyone so chill when discussing how Ruggie and Jamil used their UMs in the main story compared to Malleus casting his transference spell? Isn’t having someone else’s will overwrite your own equally as, if not more, degrading and dehumanizing??? (We do see the the other students upset about the magic being casted on them after the fact, but talking about the possibility of it isn’t done with horror; maybe because it was already established that doing these things is a no-no.) In which case, Ruggie and Jamil, who have UMs meant to be used on living beings anyway, is also “impolite” because their spells still violate other people’s autonomy. Why isn’t this banned by law or at least regulated?? Because it’s too hard to control through legislation alone? (That actually makes sense 💦)

What about when Deuce cast a floating spell on Ace to launch him at the chandelier in the prologue? Or the time NRC students made rude Halloween goers (Magicam Monsters) leave campus by floating them over the school gates?? Were those instances considered impolite too???? And is it more impolite to use magic against a non-mage (since they cannot defend themselves) than against a mage? They mention in Terror is Trending that there are laws against using (attack) magic on non-mages, but what about non-attacking spells and with consent like color changing magic???

What are the rules around casting magic on sentient objects like the Mirror of Darkness, is that considered rude as well since the object is “living”? Do ghosts count as “living” enough to be offended by having an object-oriented spell cast on them? Where do blessings and curses fall in this, since those can be cast without consent (Lilia on baby Silver in book 7) and can also be cast on objects (Vil with the gifted cake and pie in book 5).

I must.. know… 🤡

[squgs]

The general assumption around Criston and Alicent's relationship is that it's some toxic, unhealthy thing that they both settle for because they have no one else to turn to. This is an interesting reading of them, but based on the few scenes of them together that we have they seem to be the healthiest partnership in the show.

Of all the partnerships between men and women, Criston and Alicent's is the only one with a genuine balance of power. In every other pairing the man is in control and does not allow their woman to make decisions for the pair or for herself. We see Corlys ignore Rhaenys's input and wish's about betrothing Laenor and Rhaenyra and about disinheriting Baela and we can assume from her discomfort that she rose similar ignored objections about pushing Viserys to marry Laena. We see Viserys abuse both his wives and ignore their wishes for bodily autonomy. We see Daemon murder one wife, ignore the wishes of another and then belittle and assault his third wife until she complies with his wishes.

In sharp contrast to those dynamics, Alicent is clearly the one in charge in her relationship with Criston. However Alicent is not overbearing and controlling with Criston. On driftmark he is able to tell her no. He decides what he is willing to do for her and seemingly does not fear any retaliation for his decisions. The exact reasoning behind Criston's decision not to try to take Luke's eye are up for interpretation, but we don't really see any other partnership on the show where the subservient party's refusal is respected.

The only maybe comparable relationship is Rhaenyra's relationship with Laenor and Harwin. We see so little of the three of them that its hard to draw conclusions, but Rhaenyra does seem to be in charge. However she's clearly frustrated with Laenor's failures as a husband and is unable to get him to perform his duties. It's fairly clear that the planned partnership they had in episode 5 has failed, to the point that Rhaenyra gets rid of him in episode 7. Alicent and Criston's partnership on the other hand seems to be going strong after over 15 years.

There are a variety of ways that people say that the Alicent Criston dynamic is toxic. The most common is the view that Criston holds Alicent on a pedestal and doesn't actually know or see the real her only an idolized view of the Madonna in contrast to Rhaenyra the whore. I don't think that reading fits with what we see of their interactions. Criston is unflinchingly at Alicent's side in her ugliest moments. Alicent is willing to rant about Rhaenyra's bastards to him, showing her neuroticism and anxiety and anger. She shows no fear of being judged for what she says and I think we're meant to assume such venting sessions are a common occurrence for them. Alicent's behavior in that scene does not in anyway resemble an idolized divine image of the mother and yet Criston is not at all surprised or resentful or disturbed, in fact he's comfortable enough with Alicent being like that that he gets similarly petty (and misogynistic). Again on driftmark Criston sees Alicent at her lowest, most human and angry. While he is unwilling or unable to take Luke's eye he rushes to her side the moment she goes to attack Rhaenyra. Again this is Alicent at her least stereotypically motherly, least divine, most violent and angry and we don't see Criston be bothered by her not fitting into the image of her that he's created. The idea of Alicent needing to play the role of divine mother to maintain support is very interesting, but it doesn't really fit with her behavior around Criston. Playing that part is extremely difficult, it's literally an impossible standard that women are held to, and it takes constant effort. If Alicent was doing that with Criston we would see that effort and her fear at the moments when her facade slips, but instead we see Alicent trusting Criston with her most vulnerable and human moments.

Another way people say Alicent and Criston are toxic is to say that Alicent is afraid of Criston and only keeping him around because she can weaponize his hatred of Rhaenyra and point it at her enemies. Their is certainly some truth to Criston having a violent streak that he struggles to control. However in episode 9 it is very clear that Alicent doesn't need to fear him or manipulate him, and that his loyalty to her has nothing to do with hating Rhaenyra. Criston shows his loyalty two notable times in the episode. The first is after he kills Beesbury (which to be clear was bad. Murder is wrong), when Westerling and Criston are facing off. Alicent tells him to lower his sword and he does so. When one of the only comparably skilled swordsmen in the world has his blade at Criston's throat and Alicent tells him to lower his sword he does so without question. He unflinchingly trusts Alicent's judgement with his life. There is every possibility that Westerling will just kill him there, but he doesn't hesitate or complain or do anything but obey his queen, trusting her attempt to deescalate the situation. The second time is when Alicent asks Criston to find Aegon for her. Criston was at the council meeting, and since he's not an idiot he understands that the stakes of the search for Aegon is Rhaenyra's life. He is actively choosing to do something that he knows will save Rhaenyra's life because Alicent asks him to. That completely destroys the idea that his loyalty and relationship to Alicent has anything to do with hating Rhaenyra. In fact if he was motivated by hatred of Rhaenyra he would be the obvious choice to lead the assassination trip to dragonstone. Otto would obviously know that, but he still thought he had a better chance asking Westerling who has been protecting Rhaenyra since she was a child than he did asking Criston.

(Side note: the whole idea of Otto asking a knight who is loyal to Rhaenyra to do an assassin's job is absolutely ridiculous. Given that Otto is competent at his job and has known this would be happening he should absolutely have actual assassins lined up to do what they're best at. However I'm ignoring that for this analysis to view the episode as written.)

A final way that people say Alicent and Criston is toxic is that they enable each other with the delusion that they are good people because they follow the rules of society. While I do think that they enable each other in some ways. It's not that they let each other pretend that they're good people, they let each other be good people, by being good to each other. Alicent protects someone she barely knows, in a way that is actively detrimental to her political goals, simply because Criston does not deserve to be scandalized, have his family's name ruined and then be tortured to death. Criston serves an honorable queen, being a father to her children and respecting her when seemingly no one else does. The lie that they enable isn't that they're good, it's that being good means anything. They can convince each other that 'in the end honor and decency will prevail' even when they are each others only evidence of that fact.

Now with all that said, I'm not arguing that Alicent and Criston's relationship should only be viewed as wholesome and healthy and lovely (though it can be). They are both traumatized as fuck and are products of their terrible society that they can't escape, and may not even understand well enough to want to escape. There is so much stuff to dig into without resorting to a simplistic terrible version of their relationship, especially when thinking about them attempting to have a romantic or sexual relationship.

So yeah people should view alicole as more than just terrible Alicent's punishment for not defeating the patriarchy and being liberated like Rhaenyra.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Hi! Could you write something about a yan!best friend but this time he's the one who's the virgin instead of reader and reader is the one who is teasing him etc. Like your other yanbsf fic but the roles are flipped. Maybe he's flirty and teasing so reader assumed he got around but he's actually only that way around them and a huge dick to everyone else. And as they're having sex, he's rough because he hates that reader slept with other people before. Thinking of it now, this prompt also fits yan!bf because of the insecurity but I'll leave it to you. Thanks! Your writing always helps me get though a tough week :)

A/N: this prompt got me too interested for me to pass it up; I'm so glad my writing is helpful to you anon, and i hope this was what you were looking for:)

TW: Literally just smut, hardly proofread, possessive behavior, experienced! reader, virgin! Yandere, handjob,

“Don’t start.” Your best friend threatens, giving you a “i'm done with your shit” glare. 

His seemingly upset gaze passed back and forth from your eyes, to your hand. But despite his disagreeable tone, his hands stay limp at his sides, and his legs are still open at a leisurely position. 

“Why? I thought you were so confident in your… skills.” You scoff at the end of your sentence, watching your friend writhe uncomfortably as your hand caresses him. “Don’t tell me you’ve been lying this whole time….?”

You grin at seeing him frown, seeing his unhappy glare that really seems to hold a hidden bit of excitement, especially as you feel something begin to grow more shapely within your palm. 

“I haven’t lied about anything!” He blurts out suddenly, “I just-- I didn’t, say that I’ve actually.. DONE anything…” 

“Don’t tell me--” You begin to cackle, unable to hold back your laughter as you watch his face morph into an expression of sheer embarrassment. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” He shouts, grabbing the hand that thats been touching him so intimately.

“Why not, you’re a virgin who’s lied about sleeping with more than half of everyone we know!” You snicker, laughing into your opposite palm while your other has ceased its sensual movements. 

Forcing your hand back down, your best friend jerks you close. 

“If I’m really just some loser, why don’t you see how well your so-called “experience” works on me, huh? Or are you too much of a wuss to try,” He watches you try to hold back another laugh, angrily frowning.  “Maybe you’re not as good as you think; not as good compared to a virgin, anyway.”

“Oh, is that a challenge?” You ask grinning, reading his nervousness as he licks his lips in anticipation. 

“Its.. its whatever you want to take it as.” He says stubbornly, looking away. “And I haven’t lied about anything, I just… stretched the extent of things I may have done… with some people….” 

You try to hold back another laugh, resuming your experimental touches on the front of his jeans. You’ve noticed how increasingly hard he’s gotten since you started, how tight his pants have gotten around his thickness; though its not like it took very much to get him excited, having only ever received the touch of his own hand. 

Your best friend licked his lips again, letting out a huffed breath through his nostrils as you cupped his crotch. 

“So a liar and a virgin… Turns out you’ve been hiding quite a few things from me.” You cut him off before he tries to refute you again. “But that doesn’t really matter now, does it? Because you won’t be either, once we’re finished. 

“But I-I,” He stutters, watching you look him up and down, seeing how his hips have begun to lift forward in an attempt to meet your hand.

“You’ve bragged about so little… I’m sure we can manage to bring some truth to your fabrications.”

You get close, watching his desperate lips part in an attempt to call in yours. You lean in just close enough to keep him trying to close the gap, creating a bit of distance each time. You almost catch him in a kiss but lean upward, brushing your nose against his as he pants in frustration. 

“Stop-- teasing me..” He grunts, trying to keep his mouth shut. You pull away from his grinding hips, tip-toeing your fingers up to his pants buttons. You try to open them slowly, unzipping his pants zipper as he watches you. But your best friend doesn’t have the patience that you hoped. He unbuttons himself before you can, the bulge in his boxers coming to rise and push against his pants. 

“So needy for being an untouched virgin, are we? I thought you were more patient than that.” 

He looks away in embarassment, hiding behind his forearm. Your hand slides from his soft, warm tummy to the thickness in his boxers. The moment you grab it, he lets out a guttural moan, pushing his lips in his arm to avoid from getting too loud. 

You reach for his jaw with your free hand, pulling him away from his hiding spot. He looks at you with a parted, heaving mouth, watching as if you had the key to everything he could ever want. You give him a sweet kiss, one that he easily accepts, pressing up against your mouth with an insatiable fervor, gently bringing his hand down to push yours under his boxers. 

You pull away his hand from yours,pushing it against the backside of the couch with your free hand.

“Rule one you have to learn, don’t touch the master while they’re working.” You grin, giving a slow pump to his delicate, untouched cock. 

But instead of the submissive, lust-hazed look you were expecting, your bestfriend hardens his gaze. Pulling you by your hips, he forces you from your knees on the couch to his lap, letting them straddle him and keeping your hand down his pants. 

“Its not fair,” He murmurs, gripping the fabric around your thighs. “T’s not fair someone else got you fuck you first…”

He ruts up against your clothed crotch, allowing your hand to slide against his member. His thrusts into your hand grow harder, rougher as he watches you through hazy eyes and fallen hair strands. 

“You're as desperate as any virgin…” You smirk, watching him lean his head back after you brush your thumb against his tip. “But you’re as stubborn as a mule.”

 That action and your confident words only seems to spur him on, his heavy thrusts growing violent as his hand moves to grip the back of your shirt, the other coming up to meet your crotch. 

“I only learn from the best.” He says, gritting his teeth and trying his best to unbutton your shorts. “Now, I thought you said you’d teach me everything that I “fabricated”?” 

You lift an eyebrow, hearing him let out another groaning huff, getting close to his release. 

You lean in to satisfy his need to kiss you again, watching as bites his lip at a thought.

“Besides, I need to fuck you hard enough that you forget about those before me.”

[dionysusdecent]

So i saw a post on the Limbus Company subreddit that talked about why the sinners extract weaker IDs compared to what they already have, but it made my mind think about the Mirror Worlds again and just how interesting they are. And i dont necessarily mean the IDs specifically, i more mean how those IDs existing effects the rest of those worlds.

Like, how many of these worlds have the LCB? And if yes, then how do certain IDs change that worlds version of the LCB? One of the more interesting to me is of all things, the LCCB world, because the Bus Crew is directly mentioned by Rodion in her uptie story meaning that that world has its own versions of the Sinners, and should at the very least of Faust to create the bus in the first place. But since Rodion, Ishmael and Ryoshu are in the LCCB in that world, who replaced them as Sinners? Do Effie, Saude and Pilot take their places in that world? And does that worlds version of the Sinners have Yi Sang potentially meaning that Effie, Saude and Pilot in that world can use IDs? Does Pilot have a chef ID in that world? Does Effie have a Dieci ID?

I just really love the idea of Mirror Worlds because the possible ramifications that IDs have on those worlds and how interesting those worlds could possible be. Like in Erlking Heathcliff's world, who replaces him on the LCB if they even exist. Is it an entirely different literary character like Victor Frankenstein, or is it someone else from Wuthering Heights like Hindley or Linton? If its Linton, did the company put in some effort to help him with his body potentially making him healthy?

Mirror Worlds are cool yall, and i dont think enough people talk about the crazy ideas that they could produce, especially with the Sinners and any worlds that swap characters.

One Mirror World just has a SInner group of Faust, maybe Yi Sang, Ahab, Grete (Gregor's sister in Metamorphosis), Linton, Sonya, Kromer, Yuzuki (Yoshihide/Ryoshu's daughter), Raymond, Eurylochus, Jia Huan and Dulcinea

[bulkhummus]

Is it just me or is cecil really exhibiting some of his mom's possible symptoms this episode(idk how else to call them)

I’m so glad you said this omg…. I have been thinking more and more about his admission in Ghost Stories, where, he can acknowledge that their mother was unwell before she even left, as well as when she finally did abandon them, but that the hurt and damage she caused he and Abby was still very real. Perhaps there were things truly out of their mothers control, and its a more interesting and complex story when all of the grief and trauma is still real and there if BOTH things are true. For example, she may have been sick BUT she was a bad mother. There may have been forces outside of her control BUT she still neglected and ultimately abandoned her kids. Etc etc.

Cecil loves Esteban, clearly. But then again, maybe his mother really loved Cecil, despite what it seems like. Maybe she really tried to. Maybe she was truly trying to protect him. We of course know all she did was create grief and trauma, but its interesting to compare Cecil as a parent and his mother as a parent. Her actions are inexcusable, if the things in the narrative she said and did are true, but stories are almost never as black and white as that. I don’t think Cecil would ever say or do the things his mother said to him to his own son — but with the way things are in Night Vale — can we ever really know why his mother said them to him? Was it just her? Was it something else? Does it matter? Because she did do and say those things.

So, to give an example, lets look at It Sticks With You, where Cecil, Carlos and Esteban take a trip into the woods. If Esteban been had been older than 3 in It Sticks With You and the memory was firmly in his mind — a memory of a really fun and lovely day with his parents — and his father kept wandering off, and eventually forgot entirely about the day — like it didn’t even exist for him — how would Esteban feel? And then what happens when that patten continues? I’m sure he understands his father loves him, and hopes that he enjoys spending time with him— but— an inkling of doubt forms. We are looking at an isolated incident, but history shows a pattern of Cecil forgetting, and sometimes its not his fault, and things are out of his control, but it still happens. We will see all of Cecil’s rightful confusion and heart break — but what of Estebans? This is a story told through Cecil, after all.

Because Night Vale is a reactionary story. Most of the narrative is how people respond to and process things — since it is framed as a news show. Much like real life, there might be reasoning behind your actions, but there are still consequences, and they will effect others. Cecil isn’t exempt from that! No character or person is. And it really comes down to the point of, no matter the reason, the events that occur effect people in different ways, and no one can control that.

Its a theme I really enjoy in Night Vale — though usually I am discussing it through Carlos and his actions lol

[spacexseven]

Thinking about a lil au idea of DOA or Rats of the House of the dead being basically your cult in the god reader idea.

Of course, the other “members” of the cult don’t see you in that much of a big light as Fyodor does (he’s the only one to be THAT devoted to you, really). But they are still members, and little by little they just

Start to like the idea wholeheartedly.

(I love the god reader idea so much it has me in a chokehold rn)

!! anime only's, you have been warned! the following includes spoilers for 2/3 of the unknown (as of now) members of the doa, and other stuff involving the doa.

i'm not writing for kamui 'cos this was a little long as it was. also am sticking w doa 'cos im more comfortable writing for nikolai, sigma and my little vampire rockstar :^^

cw: its kind of a cult, yandere themes (near the end)

you had always known that the rats were only the beginning of fyodor's reign.

and maybe he knew that too—you could hear the soft smile in his voice when he asked you if you thought that the decay of the angel was a better-suited name for an organization that would carry out his plans and catalyze the great destruction you always said he would bring. you don't grace him with an answer, though even you have to agree that it was a name that, once uttered, could unsettle the bravest souls and fill them with trepidation. it was a fitting choice; symbolic, powerful, and ominous.

if anything, the other members were just as unpredictable and unnerving as fyodor was to you once. nikolai was the first you met. you later learned that he went against fyodor's words to come see you, seized by curiosity. bitterly, you realized that the reason why he stared at you so much was because he was studying you, like one would an insect. you almost wanted to seize some of that divine order you had and strike him down for being so blatant about his interest. but when you thought about how fyodor could never look you in the eyes, and how lonely it was as his god, you found yourself taking a liking to the eccentric clown.

there was a side to him, however, you're not sure you like at all. bloodied hands and a wicked grin to match, when anyone else seeks your time. fascination that was both lustful and violent in nature, and a possessive grip that didn't seem to let go of you.

"time for a quiz!" nikolai exclaims, "will the decay of the angel succeed?"

"of course," a wry smile plays at your lips, "who else has a god on their side?"

he laughs in response, loud and uninhibited. it's the most noise that's ever filled your room

sigma was a mystery that had too many missing pieces to be solved. a part of you could sympathize with him, having lost your own self to the blurred-together years and the exhaustion that came with being the only one with your level of sentience. however, you don't let yourself think about the book fyodor had used to create sigma, and what it meant to you. there are some things, you decide, that are best kept to yourself. some things that fyodor should never learn about.

sigma, in your first meeting, was slightly awkward; a perfectly natural response, but not in awe of your presence, not like fyodor. his voice was firm, but not unkind, and his words were respectful, but not...obedient. it was perfect.

in sigma, you found an unlikely friend. he told you about the mundane happenings in the outside world; a customer caught cheating, an employee that struggled to keep up, all the paperwork that was involved in the running of a casino in the sky. these things, as compared to your daily life, were nothing of the sort you would care about, but you listened all the same. regardless, you could tell sigma appreciated the sentiment.

you, however, don't appreciate his strange habits. recently, you think, he's been acting a little too much like fyodor. as much as you liked sigma for the natural ease that you felt by his presence, you couldn't brush off the ominous feeling that came with sigma seeking you out more and more. you start feeling like he's looking for validation of some kind from you, one you didn't wish to provide in fear that he may find this an encouragement. he reaches out for your hand often, something you might find amusing if not for the way his hand trembles.

"are you planning to leave?" nikolai, knowing the fool, must have said something to scare sigma.

"no," you say simply, "not yet."

"so you will leave," sigma frowns. you've seen that look directed to many a clumsy employee and messy files, but never to you. it's almost frightening, "don't you like it here?"

"besides, i..." he stops himself, "dostoevsky won't let you go. and...i don't want you to either. you should stay. we take care of you too, don't we?

unlike most people, you weren't surprised to see bram stoker. though in your memory, he was a lot more...whole and formidable of an opponent. more than that, you remembered him as a man turned into a monster that brought unimaginable destruction because of an ability he never asked for. it was a strange reminder of how much had really changed over the years. now, he seemed sullen, and defeated; it was a depressing sight.

now, he was exhausted. you could tell he didn't want to be here, with the decay of the angel. you could also tell that something was terribly wrong with the sword that was inside him and the pained look in his eyes. fyodor tells you of a kamui when he brings the coffin in, and just by the current state of bram and the utterance of his name, you know already you would not get along with him.

bram doesn't ask you questions, not about why you were here, or what you were doing for all those years. he doesn't explain his situation, and you don't pry. you can put the pieces together by yourself, and when it dawns on you what the kamui planned to do with bram, you realize that there were greater evils than fyodor.

there's a silent solidarity between you and bram, perhaps stemming from being something non-human. you get him the radio he's always wanted, insist that he be allowed to converse with you more often, and so on. these days, bram talks more, and it almost feels like you're talking to an old friend. bram's lived through some, though not most, of the things you have, and he remembers what nobody else does. you wonder, one day, if the two of you could have been friends had you met a lot earlier, and if you hadn't brushed off the news about the vampire ability user the first time. when you voice this out to him, bram has the most adorable reaction. your words make his eyes widen and, stupified, cause him to awkwardly change the topic, fumbling over his next few words.

ah, now you really wish you went to see him earlier.

it's that odd sensation of having a friend, caring for another, that urges you to offer your help to bram. you tell him you can get him out of here, out of the mortal angels' grasp; somewhere safe. you say you can help him regain his former state, help him survive within the shadows of humanity, like you had before. kamui, fyodor, or the doa; nothing will be able to stop you if you really wanted to make it happen, regardless of how complacent you were now.

at the very least, you thought, he might be pleased. grateful. maybe not elated, but, at the very least, relieved. instead, bram looked shocked. you can't tell if the idea horrifies him because he doesn't think you can do it, or because he believes that the decay of the angel was the only connection you had to him. perhaps he thought that saving him, freeing him, would also mean removing yourself from his life. you almost felt bad—you were very likely bram stoker's only friend in his miserable life.

still, you're not quite sure what to think when he extends his stay and starts contemplating, seriously, to cooperate with kamui. you can't wrap your mind around why he'd want to stay, and the possible loss of so many lives as a result unsettles you deeper than it does him, but he's steadfast in his decision. he tells you, with an unfamiliar tinge of scorn, that he was tired of trying to protect people, when all they did was try to kill him.

"if you're so sure, i suppose i'll have to stay here with you." concern weighs heavily on your mind, but more than that, suspicion lingers.

bram smiles, then, and seemingly relaxes in his coffin. an uncomfortable feeling seizes your chest. how had you not noticed?

[gjenkatarot]

reminder: my readings are for entertainment purposes only! take a deep breath and choose a pic that you feel drawn to the most! remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. enjoy!

hello, pile one!

♡ you'll come across to your future spouse as a very fun and brave person. the way you dress and present yourself might catch their attention, but they might also be shocked at the fact that you share some interests with them. they will be excited by your energy since it is fresh and new to them. they will be so intrigued by you!

♡ as far as i can tell, your future spouse will also see that you overwork yourself. It's like doing multiple things at the same time. the impression they'll get is that you're very busy and don't have time to sit down and take a deep breath. you might be able to get help with that, though. they will see you tired or exhausted even if you don't mention it. 

♡ you will impress them with your talent and creativity. is this the pile of hopeless romantics? they will perceive you as quiet and introverted. i'm getting charmer by stray kids. not gonna lie, your future spouse will be very charmed by your persona. their eyes will be awestruck by how emotionally and physically you express yourself. it's something about the way you talk! 

♡ because of your independence and being in your own bubble, they'll be intimidated at first.

hello, pile two!

♡ do you have a yellow aura? this pile has such a calm, warm vibe. some of you are giving me beach vibes! 

♡ anyhow, you'll seem to your future spouse like someone who's very positive, loving, and nurturing. i wonder if you guys like kids or are good with them. i think your FS will love your openness, friendliness, and welcoming attitude. childlike energy! they might see you as someone who gets stuff done. i get that some of you motivate people. 

♡ they might see you as someone who has everything they need. someone charismatic, well-liked, and magnetic. I get that they see you as good-looking and aesthetically pleasing to their eye.

♡ at first, your future spouse might think you're stable and don't need people around them. it's just that they'll see you as secure, not needing or wanting anyone else. that'll make them admire you. self-reliant vibes

hello, pile three!

♡ your future spouse will think you're a heartbreaker. you'll intimidate them so much it's hilarious. do you flirt a lot, pile 3? in their eyes, you are a clever, sharp-tongued person with a sharp mind and a clever tongue. you have the power to hurt someone with your words, and your future spouse knows that. nonetheless, the hotness you possess pile three is unmatched. you are a person who is easily liked. your presence in a room is noticed by everyone. you have a magnetic presence.

♡ you might be viewed by your fs as someone who holds back from a lot of things and suppresses them. you want to make a move, but you can't? you'll come across as someone who does things right and doesn't rush into things.

♡ i also think your future spouse might hold back on making judgements about you. like the famous saying, "don't judge a book by its cover"

♡ last but not least, they'll view you as someone who's mysterious and private. someone who doesn't share a lot of personal information. you might scare your future spouse lmao. 

[pinchofhoney]

You know I can't stay away from your writing for long so here I am againnn....angst prompt 5 and fluff promt 10. Besties to loverss plsssss.....with either Sirius Black or Kaz I can't choose

No angst...I can't take it rnnnn 😭

take a hint # 200 followers special event

» prompt event » special events masterlist

angst prompt five: “please leave before i lose myself to madness and beg you to stay”

fluff prompt ten: and it was when A watched B look at someone else the way they wanted to be looked at. does A realize how much in love with their best friend they were?

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

kaz brekker x fem!reader

word count: 3.8k

warning: kaz has no romantic feelings for inej in this one, it doesn't have a specific time in the canon, i made up one of the characters, best friends to lovers (between the lines), mention of murder

summary: It seems that Kaz always expects you to read between the lines, even though you are a thief and not an expert in interpreting written texts.

a/n: whenever i see notifications from you, i feel like a happy golden retriever puppy, hello!!<33 i feel that writing anything with sirius would be easier for me in almost every way, especially since that character has been my favorite since childhood, but i wanted to try something new and i was thrilled with the chance to do so! (it's a mess)

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

As you stepped out into the gloomy, rain-soaked streets of Ketterdam, you could felt the weight of the city's bearing down upon you. It was a place where danger lurked around every corner, where crime and corruption were the norm, and where only the strongest and most cunning survived. The city's winding, labyrinthine streets were treacherous and difficult to navigate, with slimy cobblestones that seemed to shift and writhe beneath your feet. The stench of sewage and decay hanged heavy in the air, a reminder of the filth and squalor that permeated every inch of the city.

The people of Ketterdam were a rough and ragged bunch, with sharp tongues and even sharper knives. Every interaction was a potential threat, every stranger a possible enemy. It was a place where trust was hard to come by, and betrayal was always just a heartbeat away. And yet, despite all of this, you couldn't help but feel drawn to the city. It was the only place where you've ever felt truly at home, where you could be yourself without fear of judgment or rejection. It was a feeling that both comforted and terrified you, and you knew that you'll never be able to escape it, no matter how hard you try.

You hated Ketterdam with a passion, yet you found yourself unable to imagine living anywhere else. Maybe it was because you hated yourself too, the mere thought of being ordinary filled you with a deep-seated loathing. You had no talents, no skills that could make others look at you with admiration, and to make matters worse, you weren't your parents' favorite child either. That distinction belonged to your older sister, the Grisha who had always been showered with adoration and affection, even when she was away in the Little Palace, thousands of miles from home.

Your parents had always compared you to her, highlighting your shortcomings and making you feel like a disappointment. Even when she was gone, they treated you worse than they ever had before, as if you brought them shame just by existing.

Yet, in Ketterdam, your ordinariness was a blessing. As a member of a gang of thieves, you were the perfect fit. Your lack of beauty and grace made you unremarkable, allowing you to blend into the shadows and avoid attention. You moved with ease through the convoluted streets of the city, navigating its twists and turns, always keeping your wits about you. Of course, there were a times of doubts, where you couldn't help but think that perhaps being strikingly beautiful would be an asset to your profession, especially when robbing wealthy merchants who came to Ketterdam seeking to indulge in its illicit pleasures. But even then, you knew that such a gift would come with its own set of complications, and in Ketterdam, complications were the last thing you needed.

You pulled the hood of your dark cloak over your head, lowering it slightly to obscure your face. You didn't want to be recognized by anyone, but at the same time, you needed to keep an eye on your surroundings and react quickly if needed.

You hastily tucked your frozen hands into the pockets of your coat and quickened your step as you saw two men who were part of the Dime Lions. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized them. Lately, you had been avoiding these people more than usual, ever since you got into an unnecessary street fight with several members of the gang. They had made it clear that they weren't happy with you, and you knew that they wouldn't hesitate to attack you if given the chance.

But it wasn't just the Dime Lions that you were avoiding. Some people in Ketterdam knew about things they shouldn’t. It was no secret that rumors spread like wildfire in this city, and often found their way into the hands of those who would use them for their own gain. But in a world full of terrible people, you had to be worse.

You walked with no clear destination in mind, driven by the need to distance yourself as much as possible from the Crow Club. It was only moments ago that you had found yourself in a heated argument with the one person who mattered the most to you. His stubborn pride had come between you once again, making you curse his name to the heavens above.

The tension in the hallway was thick enough to cut with a knife as you and Kaz stood facing each other, both seething with frustration. His eyes glinted in the dim light, anger etched deep into the lines of his face. What had started as a minor disagreement had quickly escalated into a full-blown argument, fueled by the unspoken feelings that both tried to hide.

“You don't understand, Y/N,” Kaz growled, his voice low and scratchy. “You never do. You're always off on your own, thinking you know what's best for everyone. You can't keep taking unnecessary risks. It's not just your life on the line.”

“I know that,” you snapped back, your eyes flashing with anger. “But we can’t just sit back and do nothing. We need to take action if we want to survive.”

“Of course we need to take action,” Kaz shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I'm not saying we should do nothing. But we need to be smart about it. We can't rush in blindly. That's why I'm in charge. I know what I'm doing.”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “Sometimes being smart means taking risks. That's how we get ahead.”

A heavy silence hung in the air between you, filled only by the sound of your breathing and the rustle of your clothes. Kaz's gaze bore into you with an intensity that made your skin crawl.

His jaw tightened, and he spoke through gritted teeth. “Fine,” he said, his voice icy. “Do whatever you want. But don't expect me to follow you blindly into danger.”

You took a step closer to Kaz, your eyes blazing. “I don't need you to follow me, Kaz. I can take care of myself.”

His eyes narrowed, and he took a step back, his hand on his cane for support. “Then go ahead and do that. But please, leave before I lose myself to madness and beg you to stay.”

Your chest tightened with hope as Kaz's words registered in your mind. Could it be that he actually wanted you to stay? But your hopes were dashed as you saw him turn his back and begin walking away. The urge to call out to him, to make him admit his feelings, consumed you, but you knew it was pointless. Kaz Brekker was not one to bare his soul.

With a frustrated growl, you clenched your fists so tightly that your nails dug painfully into your palms. Without another word, you turned and stormed down the stairs. Ignoring Jesper's questioning gaze and Wylan's confused expression, you burst out into the rain-soaked streets of the Barrel, letting the cool droplets wash away your anger and frustration.

Your mind was a chaotic mess of emotions as you walked, all directed towards the one man who had the power to make you feel so much. Kaz's words echoed in your head, spoken in his rough voice, which usually sounded like the most beautiful melody to your ears, but now it was a curse that tormented you and did not allow you to find peace.

“I don't need you, Kaz. You're the last person I want,” you muttered under your breath, and as if fate was playing a game, you bumped into the very person with whom the whole argument began. What a coincidence.

You lifted your gaze, and your eyes met with the one who infamously called himself Ketterdam's most dangerous person. Although he didn't know you, you were familiar with him well enough to know that he would want to have you with him despite your undistinguished appearance and lack of special skills.

In a rush of panic, you lowered your head, feigning humility to mask your face. “I apologize, sir,” you began, trying to hide the hint of fear you could sense in your voice. “I should be more careful.”

The man smirked, his eyes scanning over your form. “It's no problem, sweetheart,” he said, his voice oozing with arrogance and entitlement. “But you should watch where you're going. It's not safe to be wandering around these parts alone.” His hand brushed against your arm, sending shivers down your spine.

You flinched at the touch, trying to pull away from him, but then he grabbed you. You knew what type of man he was, and the last thing you wanted was to be alone with him in a dark alley. You tried to think of an excuse to leave, but before you could say anything, the gravelly rasp of a familiar voice interrupted.

“Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” Kaz's voice was calm and controlled, but there was an underlying threat that made the man release his grip on you and take a step back.

“None at all,” the man replied smoothly.

Kaz stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “I suggest you leave the lady alone then.”

The man scoffed. “I suggest you mind your own business, boy.”

Kaz's hand, covered with a leather glove, tightened on the crow's head ornamenting his cane. “I'll make it my business if I see someone harassing a woman in my city.”

The man sneered, clearly not intimidated by Kaz's threat. “Your city?” he asked with a hint of derision, studying Kaz more thoughtfully. Suddenly, as if he had just connected the dots, he added, “Last time I checked, it was still called Ketterdam, not Dirtyhands's kingdom.”

Kaz's expression didn't change, but you could sense the tension in the air. “Believe what you want, but if you don't leave now, I'll make sure you regret it.”

The man seemed to consider his options for a moment before finally releasing a grunt of annoyance and walking away, oblivious to the inevitable fate that awaited him regardless of his decision. Death was the only possible outcome and the only variable was who would carry out the execution.

Finally, the man was out of sight, and you released a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. Kaz turned to you, and you met his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and anger. Despite feeling indebted to him for his intervention, you couldn't help but feel frustrated by his interference. “I didn't need your help,” you said, trying to sound confident.

Kaz raised an eyebrow. “It sure looked like you did.”

You glared at him, feeling embarrassed and exposed. He had seen you in a moment of vulnerability, and you hated yourself for it. “I could have handled it,” you insisted, although you knew it was a lie. You couldn't have handled the situation on your own. You were a skilled thief, but you lacked the physical strength to overpower a man twice your size. You were not armed with revolvers, nor did you possess the abilities of a Corpsewitch. You were just an average person, with quick fingers and the ability to pick locks, nothing more.

“How did you know where to find me?” you added.

“Did you think I wouldn't follow you? I had a feeling you'd get yourself into trouble, but I didn't expect it to happen so soon.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small part of you was grateful that Kaz had your back. “And what about-”

“Inej will take care of him,” he said, cutting you off, signaling that he didn't want to discuss the matter any further. “Let's head back to the Slat. You're soaked.”

Kaz started walking away, disappearing into a dark alley without waiting for you. You sighed and followed him, feeling the dampness of your clothes sticking to your skin.

The walk back to the Slat was silent, with only the sound of raindrops hitting the cobblestones to fill the air. As you entered the place, you immediately noticed the curious looks of your crewmates. Jesper was there, even though he usually preferred gambling at the Crows Cub and Matthias stood at the top of the stairs, watching you with his arms crossed. It seemed like everyone was waiting for you to return, and you couldn't help but feel uneasy.

Ignoring the greetings, Kaz announced, “You'll never guess who Y/N met.” The room fell silent, and Kaz removed his hat as if to emphasize his point. “Antoon Beudeker.”

A hum of surprised sounds ran through the room, and all eyes turned to you. You felt uncomfortable being the center of attention. You had been trying to track down Beudeker for weeks, but he always managed to slip away from you, as if someone in the Dregs was tipping him off about your plans.

Nina spoke up, breaking the silence. “What do you mean by that?”

Kaz looked at you, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “A talent for stealing isn't Y/N's only skill. As you can see, the talent for trouble far outweighs it.”

You shifted uncomfortably under Kaz's gaze, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. You knew you had made a mistake by bumping into Beudeker, but it wasn't even your fault. All you wanted was to cut yourself off after the argument with Kaz, and now he was the one who was right again.

Wylan's voice carried through the quiet room, breaking the tension. “What are we do with him now?” he asked, but no one answered, assuming that it was up to their missing Wraith to handle the situation.

Jesper's frustration boiled over, and he jumped up from his seat. “It's not fair!” he exclaimed, pointing his revolver at the wall. “I was the one who wanted to put a bullet between his eyes.”

Matthias stepped forward, before anyone reacted to sharpshooter's words, his expression serious. “We need to figure out who's been leaking our plans to Antoon. This could be dangerous for all of us.”

“I agree,” Nina added. “We need to find out who's been betraying us and deal with them.”

Wylan's voice piped up, “What if we set a trap?”

Kaz nodded, considering the idea.

“We could feed different information to each member of the Dregs and see which version gets back to someone who will claim to be Beudeker now. That way, we'll know who we can trust and who we can't,” you suggested.

Nina grinned. “I like it. And if we catch the traitor, we can make an example out of them.”

Jesper's eyes gleamed with anticipation. “I'll provide the entertainment.”

Matthias shook his head. “No, Jesper. We can't take the law into our own hands. We'll handle the traitor according to our own rules, but we won't kill them.”

Jesper shrugged, disappointed but not arguing. “But killing is our rule, Helvar.”

Matthias's expression darkened, but before he could reply, Kaz spoke up. “That's enough. We're not discussing this any further. We need to focus on finding the leak first, not arguing about how to deal with them.”

Jesper and Matthias both looked at Kaz, but neither of them said anything. The silence in the room was heavy with tension, and you could sense the frustration emanating from Jesper and the anger radiating from Matthias. Kaz's tone had effectively shut down the conversation, but you knew that it was far from over.

“We'll start investigating tomorrow,” Kaz's voice filled the room again. “For now, let's all get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us.”

As Kaz's words faded away, the tension in the room dissipated, and everyone began to go their separate ways. You hesitated, still reeling from the events of the evening, unsure of what to do next.

Sensing your unease, Kaz approached you, his expression serious but not unkind. “I know this is a lot to take in,” he said, his voice low. “But we have a job to do, and we can't afford to let our emotions cloud our judgment. I need you to be focused tomorrow, do you understand?”

You nodded, feeling a bit guilty for today’s argument. “Yes. I'll be ready,” you replied, determined to not let him down.

Kaz gave you a small nod of approval before turning to leave. You watched him go, listening to the rhythmic tapping of his cane on the panels. The weight of his words settling on your shoulders. It was true that you couldn't afford to let your emotions get in the way of the investigation, but it was easier said than done. The events of the evening had shaken you to your core, and you weren't sure if you could push them aside so easily. Life in Ketterdam has been hard, but never before has such danger reached you directly.

With a heavy sigh, you made your way back to your room, hoping that a good night's rest would help clear your mind.

You were surprised to find the Antoon's spy so easily, feeling foolish for not discovering it sooner. Despite the setback, the mood in the Crow Club remained peaceful as the days passed. The seventh of you sat together, planning your next move and gossiping about Ketterdam's richest people. Kaz seemed more relaxed than usual, and even Jesper and Matthias were on their best behavior, seemingly content to simply enjoy the moment of peace.

As the night wore on and the group's conversation continued to flow, you couldn't help but notice Kaz's eyes on you. You caught his gaze a few times, and each time you felt a jolt of electricity run through you. It was a feeling you had been trying to ignore for a while now, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with each passing day.

As you turned to look at Jesper, who was recounting a funny story, you noticed Kaz's expression change slightly. It was a subtle shift, but you could tell he was suddenly distant, lost in thought.

After a few minutes, Kaz stood up and motioned for you to follow him. You looked around at the others, confused, but they simply shrugged and continued their conversation. You followed Kaz up the dimly lit hallway to his office.

Once inside, Kaz closed the door and motioned for you to take a seat. You sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk, feeling a bit nervous. Kaz took a seat opposite you, resting his cane on the desk, right next to the chair and leaned forward, his elbows on his desk.

His expression was serious, but not unkind. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” he began, his voice low. “I've noticed that things between us have been a bit... different lately.”

You shifted in your seat, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Different how?” you asked, not sure if you really wanted to know the answer.

Kaz leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “I think you know what I mean,” he replied, his gaze fixed on yours.

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what he was talking about. “Kaz, I...” you began, but he cut you off with a wave of his hand.

“I just wanted you to know that I'm aware of the situation,” he said, his tone even, then he paused for a moment. “You know, Y/N. I've been thinking a lot lately about what it means to care for someone. To really care for someone,” he looked directly at you, his eyes intense, emphasizing the weight of his words. “And I've come to the conclusion that there's no one I care for more than you.”

You were completely taken aback by Kaz's words. You had never heard him express his feelings so openly before. Your heart raced as you searched his face for any sign of insincerity, but you found none. You were overcome with a mixture of shock, disbelief, and joy.

His heart sank as he watched you gaze at Jesper with a look of admiration and affection earlier, even if you two were just friends. It was then that he realized how deeply in love with you he truly was. He had been trying to ignore his feelings for you for so long, but seeing you look at someone else with such tenderness was too much to bear.

Kaz carefully chose his words, wanting to express his feelings without being too direct. “I've been thinking about our friendship,” he said, his voice low and serious. “I value our bond more than anything else in the world, and I want to make sure that nothing ever comes between us.”

“Why are you bringing this up now?” you asked genuinely confused by Kaz's sudden openness.

He shifted in his seat, looking almost uncomfortable, “Well, I just wanted to make sure that you know how much you mean to me,” Kaz said, his eyes meeting yours. “There's no one else I trust or care for more than you, Y/N.”

You could feel the weight of his words, the sincerity and depth of emotion behind them. You knew that he was a man of few words, and when he spoke, it was always with a purpose. It was hard to reconcile this Kaz with the cold and distant one you had grown accustomed to over the years.

You couldn't help but feel that there was an underlying message in Kaz's words, something that he wasn't explicitly stating. Your intuition was telling you that there was more to the story than what he had let on. You couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that something was amiss.

“Kaz,” you began, your voice hesitant. “Is there something else you want to tell me? Something that you're not saying?”

Kaz's expression remained neutral, but you could sense a hint of discomfort in his demeanor. You knew that he wasn't one to wear his heart on his sleeve, so you weren't surprised that he was hesitant to open up to you completely.

“I've said what I needed to say,” Kaz replied, his voice flat. “There's nothing more to it.”

His reply felt like a dead end, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. You knew that he was a complex person, with layers that even you couldn't fully comprehend, but you couldn't shake off the sense that he was still holding something back. Nonetheless, you tried to put on a brave face and show your gratitude for his honesty.

“Okay,” you said, rising from your seat. “I appreciate you telling me how you feel. Our friendship means the world to me too, Kaz.” You couldn't help but wonder what his true intentions were, but you knew that you needed to be patient and let him come to you when he was ready.