#nasty and cruel old man <3

[darnestdungeon]

Hiiii I was wondering if you might have access to transparent/clean enemy sprites from the first game, or know where they might be found? Thank you !

Hi hi, most of the game's sprites can be found on the fandom wiki under their respective enemy page! Only downside to it is that when you try to save the files, they save as webp. I've uploaded in the wiki gifs for all the enemies' combat animations, if you want easy access to them, you can download them from my dropbox here!

Now for the static pngs, if you don't want to go through the whole wiki and you have the game, you can try and look in the files themselves (copying the next paragraphs from a previous ask) it's probably a similar process for GoG and Epic versions in PCs, Macs are different, can't help you there.

Go to where you installed Steam in your PC (usually the disk C: on your computer, unless you installed in another drive) and open the “Steam” folder, then find the “steamapps” folder, then the “common” folder and finally “DarkestDungeon”, like so:

C:\Programs\Steam\steamapps\common\DarkestDungeon

Now in the search bar, type .png and press enter! And there you have it, after a few moments you should find all the images used in game! If you want to look at it better, I recommend copying all of it in to a folder someplace else, just so you won’t risk accidentally messing with the game files.

So yeah, you can sift from there! Have Vvulf as a freebie, just because I already had those saved and because I still find this mean old man gorgeous:

[bsdawgz]

「 ✦ Perverted ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Osamu Dazai

... NOW PLAYING ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| Perverted by Elita ...

a/n: it has been so long i'm sorry for disappearing </3 I LOVE YOU ALL THANK U FOR CONTINUING TO SUPPORT ME, new and old followers ILY. SPECIAL THX TO @amo-bsd, @little-miss-chaoss, @starrs20 THEY R THE BEST. also idk if this fic is ur thing cuz its dark content so u dont have to read it but i tagged y'all bc everyone who comes across this post SHOULD FOLLOW U BC UR THE BEST

content: f! pm! reader. MDNI! dark content + nasty! knifeplay. knifeplay is consensual, BUT keep in mind that unequal power dynamics are still at play because dazai is an executive and f!reader is a subordinate. (aka if this were real life this is not consensual)

++ blowjob (incl. facefucking). degradation and name-calling ("slut"), praise and pet names (i actually used bella LOL). dazai is possessive. like he actually treats you like a possession KEEP THAT IN MIND B4 READING

Dazai has always been calculating and cruel. Perhaps it was one of the things that drew you to him the most, as twisted as it were, knowing that these bloodied hands could sometimes hold you so tenderly, and that you of all people were the one he chose to see him naked at the end of the night. You took some sort of pride in it, in the fact Port Mafia's youngest executive had chosen you as his personal plaything, out of all the women that could easily fall into his arms.

His room is dark, ceilings tall, his face shrouded by velvet curtains that cast a shadow over you like a gaping mouth. His desk is stacked with papers, neatly organized in a pile, but there are painkillers and used-up bandages sprawled across the floor beneath it. Dazai is in the corner, staring down disdainfully at the broken city that is Yokohama. He doesn't greet you when you enter. Rather, he looks down at you condescendingly. "You were reckless today. You're lucky Akutagawa was there to save you, or you would have been killed."

"I'm sorry," is all you can say. As his subordinate and, for lack of a better term, his lover, you never know which Dazai you're about to face. Your apology is well-received, a grin forming on his lips as you bow your head. You're always so quick to submit to him. He's used to it, being an executive and all, but it feels especially good coming from you.

"Yeah?" His voice is a low hum now, seductive and rogue. He comes closer, then you feel his thumb graze your chin, then he forces you to gaze into the empty void of his dark eyes. You stare, captured by the intense nothingness behind them that threatens to swallow you whole, gulping as you realize that in those moments of enchantment, those slender fingers of his have crawled along the sides of your neck. He leans in, and you can feel his lips tracing along your collarbone. "How are you gonna make it up to me?"

Your knees are weak; you're always falling right into his hands this way. He guides you to the dresser, hands on your hips, then presses his body against yours from behind, fingers toying with the hem of your blouse. "How about I kill you right here, myself?" you hear him whisper in your ear, breath warm against your skin. Then, you feel cold metal pressed against your neck. "Would you let me do that to you?"

You catch a glimpse of silver, gleaming with the reflection of the city lights as Dazai runs a blade along a vein.

Trusting a man like Dazai can be such a fatal flaw – ...

... but he must be using the dull edge for a reason... right?

"I would let you do anything to me," you reply. You hear him sigh, almost disappointed by your courteous response. He lets go of you immediately and scoffs, tucking the knife back into his pocket.

"You always know what to say," he mutters, as if irritated by your predictability – but you know that it means he's pleased. You’re loyal to him. You always have been.

Then, as if on cue, you turn to face him, getting on your knees in front of him.

"Oh," he muses, entertained. "So, you're gonna use your pretty mouth to make it up to me instead?"

– but of course.

You're eager to please him, hands fumbling for the zipper of his slacks. He grins at how desperate you seem to touch him, petting your head as you bury your face into his hardness. You trace him through his boxers, marvel at the way it grows with your touch. This is the way you command him – the way you bring to his knees while you're on yours. You feel him shudder as your lips caress him, feel wetness seep through his boxers against your cheek as you mold against him.

In this moment, the most dangerous man in Yokohama is yours and yours alone.

"Get on with it," he mumbles lazily, stroking your cheek gently. You're staring up at him admiringly, watching the way his breath catches in his throat as you tease him.

He's gorgeous when he’s weak for you, gazing back down at you with half-lidded eyes, waiting on you to make him feel something. He's the desperate one now, you think to yourself. It’s as if he’s begging,

'Give it to me.'

You'll give it to him – you'll give it to him over and over.

Maybe it's perverted, but it makes you feel good inside, knowing you're needed by him like this.

So, you strip him slowly, kissing along his firm abdomen and thighs as you peel the boxers down his legs. He's impatient, hands trembling as you reach for him and run your fingers slowly along his length. His reactions are all the praise you need – he sighs softly into your touch when you finally wet the tip with your tongue, then you feel him fade into you. You taste the salt that drips so bitterly on your lips, swirl the precum in your mouth and let it melt against your saliva. "You're good at that," he whispers, and you feel yourself grow wet between the legs at his words.

Then, you take him. Slowly, at first – stroking him with your pretty hands while you lick the vein that runs along the underside, then slide him down your throat. You feel his grip tighten on your hair, then hear him make a stifled sound. When you look up, he's staring down at you in amazement, lips parted so slightly as you do your best not to choke on him... If only he looked at you like this all the time, you can't help but think to yourself shamefully.

It's too cruel to continue these sort of thoughts, so you force yourself to take him deeper... You shove him into your mouth until your vision blurs, until you gag on him, until saliva dribbles down your chin. He matches your pace, burying himself into your throat until you choke on his length, until you're tearing up and your vision is blurred. Then, you hear him laugh condescendingly. "This why you were so reckless today?" he asks you roughly, eyes darkening as he peers down at you. His fingers ravage your hair, his nails digging into your scalp as he pushes your head down. "You like it just like this, don't you?"

And maybe he’s right – he has you throwing your life away in this wretched mafia… and for what? He has you following him around like a dog… and to what end?

When you're forced to look up at him with your mouth stuffed full of him, it's almost as if there's no trace of a humanity left in him. There’s nothing in those wild eyes, scornful and resenting. There's some twisted grin on his face, something sadistic and perverse you've only seen a few times before, in the moments before he’s stolen someone’s life. "You act so fucking innocent, but look at you taking me like a damn slut. Do you do this for the others? Tell me..."

You can hardly breathe now, cheeks swollen and red, jaw aching, but you know he expects a response, so you shake your head frantically. No, of course not, you'd never give it to anyone else but him. Never, ever – but he doesn't relent, looking down at you demeaningly with that same sick look on his face. "Yeah? I've seen the way you look at Chūya. You wanna fuck him too, don't you?"

This time, when you open your eyes, the knife is right against your throat – the sharp edge almost tracing along your skin. Would you bleed for this man? Would you die for this man? Wouldn’t he like to know…

You shake your head as if to say, 'Only you... only ever you.' Then, you claw at his legs, pushing him away to tell him enough...

– and he withdraws immediately, shoving you off of him and leaving you coughing and gasping for air on the cold, wooden floor. "I would have killed you if you said yes, you know," he says, point blank. "You're mine alone."

This time, you're not quite sure if he means what he says – or what he means as laughs mirthlessly as you pull yourself together. But in a playful tone, he adds, "But of course, I knew from the start that you'd say no."

Then, you feel it –

His embrace. Gentle. Endearing. Fond.

His soft, tangled bangs fall against your shoulder as he pulls you into his chest.

It’s like he’s become a different person again.

“Come here, my precious Bella," you hear him murmur into your shoulder, tracing a delicate finger along your back as he presses his lips to your spine, and your heart stills.

"Let me draw you a bath."

For a man so cold, his body feels surprisingly warm.

author ps: ANY BDSM should have CLEAR communicated boundaries (established beforehand) and during AND include AFTERCARE. the aftercare was not written (it would be the bath, basically). if you are new to BDSM or considering BSDM please be INFORMED and do not use fanfic and dark content as a basis for it

© BSDAWGZ Don’t steal or plaigarize cos that’s mean… and if you enjoyed the fic, please reblog! ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊ Beautiful dividers by @ v6que!

[knyontop]

bowers gang hcs?

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

PLEASE SEND MORE BOWERS GANG REQUESTS GUYSIGHHSIBJHSIHGJ

Ft: Henry bowers, Patrick hocksetter, Victor criss, Belch huggins.

Tw: dark stuff remember its the bowers gang!!!

Henry:

・Henry is the most aggressive and just mean😭

・you give him one wrong look and your already a target for him.

・depending on how much he hates you is how far he will go.

・He deff has some doggys!!!!

・hes a dog person confirmed ^_^

・he has two dogs, both are German shepherds (cant think of any names so just make them up..)

・hes had sex with like five girls, maybe even more. But they dont mean anything to him he just needs a good fuck every once in a while.

・he mostly goes for nasty bitches (thats all there is in darry) but if hes lucky there will be one sweet, innocent girl he can corrupt. (He has a thing for the innocent ones)

・Henrys favorite color is red im confirming it :3

・he stays out late so he doesn’t have to go home to his shit dad, he hangs with his friends but he also likes his alone time.

・when he was younger i just know he loved trucks😭

・a truck is definitely his dream car💪🏻💪🏻

・Henry doesn’t like loud children and he doesn’t like crowds because its so annoying trying to get through and its loud as hell.

・he is not scared to get into a little kids face and tell them to shut up and if they really push it he might slap em’ on the head.

・i feel like when he was younger he definitely wanted a sibling he wanted a younger sibling to hang out with and make into like a mini him just someone he could protect and hang with. (He still kinda does)

・anger issues, daddy issues, asshole issues, what do you expect?

・henry bowers getting therapy when??

・bro looks at himself in the mirror and just admires himself bc he knows hes hot😭

・AS HE SHOULDDDD

・i would like to say hes pretty good at skateboarding like i just have an image of him when he was younger with his little crew and there just skating☹️☹️

・but he thinks he doesn’t have time for it anymore, only on rare occasions he does it. (Vic still skates often tho)

・but yeah henry bowers is pretty fire🔥🔥

Patrick:

・the most sadistic and cruel like we all know that.

・bro is just born this way no sad backstory nothing😭

・I imagine that its just him and his mom, and his mom is a sweet angel while hes just the devil.

・his dad left after he killed his little brother, and Patricks okay with that. Never like his old man anyways.

・he has some type of caring for his mom I mean like deep deep inside somewhere you will find a little care.

・he does not care about your race or sexuality at all like the only thing he will care about is if your a girl because he believes that men are better than woman.

・little patrick was like, “MOM GET BACK IN THE KITCHEN!”

・complete menace smh.

・but yeah he doesn’t care he just calls you slurs and stuff because he loves humiliating people😭 the rush he feels it gives him a feeling of what its like to even feel something.

・he doesn’t have a favorite color, he thinks thats stupid and childish. Like who gives a fuck? (I DO☹️)

・no filter. Speaks his mind.

・”Fucking whore.”

・evilest laugh EVER.

・”if i laugh during a fight run” ah💀

・deep deep down he has a soft spot for his little gang and his mom, deep, deep, deeeeeep down.

・he wants to feel things he just doesn’t, so, feeling that rush of excitement or sexual energy or desire helps him feel emotions and he doesn’t care if its bad at least hes feeling it!

Victor:

・hes the smartest like he got those straight A’s in elementary🙏🏻🙏🏻

・i just know hes a cat person like he holds in a coo when hes those little furballs☹️

・has two siblings >3< a little brother and a little sister!!!

・and hes a pretty decent big bro to.

・took them to the park, helps his little sister tie her shoes, but just bc there his little siblings doesn’t mean hes not afraid to get rough with them. Hes in the bowers gang for a reason.

・hes like the stereotypical bully, pinning people down shoving them a little bit maybe a little beat dowm mocking and teasing his victims.

・never to far ig…

・Victor’s favorite color is green, yeah pretty obvious ik ik☹️☹️

・he cuts his own hair!!! Hes pretty smart when hes not being a asshole.

・i feel like if he wasn’t a bully he would have so much potential.

・buttt anywho he has old note books that he used to journal in when he was younger he thinks its stupid now that hes older. (I promise its not)

・he likes making Henry proud because i mean hes his leader why wouldn’t he want to please him?

・he grew up in a srict household, when he was 8 he realized rules are stupid.

・they are all little shits omds.

・he used to want to be a cop but look where he is nowwww..

・woops!

��funfact: hes pretty good with kids sense he has little siblings, he just doesn’t have a lot of patience.

Belch:

・most empathetic, his actor even said he was more human than the others he was not as evil as the others.

・i feel like hes a 100% mamas boy he hates his dad, his parents split up so he takes care of his mom behind the scenes.

・he has one little sister which she is the exact opposite of him like literally shes just a sweet little bundle of joy with her taller and bigger intimidating older brother next to her with his arms crossed.

・might be a better older brother than vic ngl😪

・now im not saying hes gentle or nice hes still an asshole hes not a good person im just saying hes nicer than the others.

・he intimates kids, shoves them around, never anything as bad as henry gets with his strength.

・Belch likes to make people intimidated, he feels strong. He feels good.

・belch is a dog person but he thinks cats are okay, but definitely a dog person.

・hes got a little pug <\3

・which he keeps his pug ten yards away from patrick because that pug is his baby.

・to any of patricks fat jokes hes like “Im big boned asshole!”

・close enough welcome back eric cartman.

・I feel like his favorite color would be blue or orange.

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I had fun making this :33 PLEASE SEND MORE REQUESTS FOR THE BOWERS GANG!!

[calmcoldevening]

Back at it again with a prompt idea!

What if the slasher/s are trying to kill a victim but they are immortal and keep coming back

And the victim keeps following the slasher only to annoy and be a little menace to them >:3

(maybe they fall in love later O.O)

What ever slasher you choose is fine for me ;)

Art the clown x immortal!reader

Tw: blood, murdering, torturing? well, yeah. Art is an ass sometimes

• Art has always been a fan of violent and noisy 'games' that chilled the blood in his veins. That was his sadistic nature, and the whole of Miles County and people for hundreds of miles around had already heard a lot about it. A strange man in a clown costume, who sent at least a dozen unhappy teenagers and adults to the next world. He loved blood and horror, and no one would dare stand in his way, not wanting to become another victim of brutal violence.

• Maybe it was fate's will, or maybe it was just your bad luck or an accident, but one day Art saw you in one of the cafes late at night. He was watching you from a dark alley, so it's unlikely that you would have seen him even if you really wanted to. He clutched his garbage bag in his hands, and a cruel grin appeared on his face. You were a good little thing and you definitely could have brightened up this cold night for him.

• Without thinking for long, Art hit you on the head at the most unexpected moment and took you to one of his 'game rooms', which in fact was just a room of one of the old factories in the city. He wasn't in the mood to hunt you down and catch you in your own house for a long time. This game was supposed to be fast but colorful.

• The clown involuntarily licked his lips, watching you slowly regain consciousness and open your big innocent eyes. He walks around you like some kind of fancy Christmas tree. You're sitting on an old wooden chair, badly scratched and already soaked in blood from past victims. Your limbs are tied in wooden material with strong leather straps, and thick barbed wire with rusty, blunt teeth is wrapped around your neck, chest and abdomen. There was a smell of dampness and fear in the air, which made the Clown giggle noiselessly.

• Finally, Art stopped right in front of you and gestured at the trash bag to your right. Making a playful, almost pretended sweet expression, or reached into the bag as if looking for a Christmas present for a small child. In the flickering light, a long thin tool with a convex handle and a bizarrely curved metal tip appears, more like a sharply sharpened blade. A man comes behind you and caresses your tense shoulders with almost uncharacteristic tenderness. His fingers are rough and rough. The clown's palms slowly descend lower, sliding along your clothed back through the open part of the back of the chair. The movements are slow and measured. Suddenly his movements stop and in the next moment they are replaced by acute pain. Sparks dance in your eyes and you emit a strangled cry, reflexively your body gives way forward, blunt spikes painfully dig into your tender flesh. Art laughs soundlessly, continuing to press the blade deeper into your spine, and then abruptly moves his hand down. With a nasty creak, the fabric of your T-shirt is torn, and at the same time your soft flesh is torn. Art rejoices, seeing how his hands and white gloves are stained with maroon lingonberry liquid, flowing in a thick stream onto the concrete floor. Tears are pouring from your eyes as you desperately bite your lower lip in an attempt to control yourself. Your back, which was once a flawless canvas of pale skin, is now covered with a network of terrible red lines, each of which testifies to the cruelty of Art's tools and his relentless thirst for suffering. There is a pungent smell of iron in the air, mixing with the acrid smell of fear that remains on your sweat-soaked skin.With deliberate slowness, I pick up the razor-sharp instrument again, its sinister curves gleaming in the dim light. Your body is trembling, every muscle is tense with fear, while the man is preparing to inflict even more torment on you.In the flickering shadows, a grotesque smile appears on his painted face, a silent promise of future torment.

• Suddenly, the blade hits the blood-soaked concrete with a ringing thud and bounces off somewhere to the dark wall. Art goes back to his "magic" bag and takes out some kind of leather strap. With a deft movement of his hands, he hooks the clips connected by a strap onto your wet cheeks, the gloves wet with blood rub unpleasantly against your face. Art smiles his creepy smile and gently touches your chin with his fingers. Your eyes were swollen and your cheeks were wet from tears and saliva flowing from your open mouth. But not that you can complain here. All you had to do was mumble something, barely moving your limp tongue.

• An unpleasant crunch filled the half-empty concrete room. With a strong crack, Art broke off a piece of your tooth with pliers, the fragment unpleasantly scratched the already bleeding gum. All you had to do was mumble something indistinctly, to which Art just grinned madly and jokingly grabbed your tongue with the edges of the pliers, watching the despair in your eyes. He broke off tooth after tooth until a dozen teeth had been pulled out in his hand.

• Your throat burned from screaming, and your eyes burned unpleasantly from the tears you shed. You wanted it to be over as soon as possible. Realizing that Art won't get the right reaction from you anymore, noticing your exhaustion, he snorts soundlessly, clearly losing interest. With a graceful movement of his hand, Art deftly takes out an old battered pistol from a trash bag. He slides the edges of the gun over your cheek, drawing uncomplicated patterns. His movements are slow and upward. One. Two. Three. Finally, his hand reaches your head, the muzzle of the gun is pressed against your painfully throbbing temple. You wearily close your eyes, feeling a leaden heaviness in your limbs. His arms and legs were already blue from lack of blood.

• Art blows on the smoke coming from the shower of the gun and throws the weapon back into the bag. The man steps back, admiring his work and your smoking wound on his temple for a couple of moments. After that, he carefully removes the straps from the dead body and puts them in a bag, slowly leaving the building.

• Art pinned a young man to the ground, slowly cutting the meat from his face and putting the skin in his mouth. A soft laugh was heard abruptly behind him, and another pair of hands, softer and softer palms, covered his hands. The man raises his eyebrows questioningly and turns back, meeting your satisfied gaze. Your face still looked tired and tear-stained, and there were bruises and streaks of blood on your neck, but overall you looked almost.. normal?

• Without thinking twice, you grab the scalpel from his hand and with a sharp movement stick the blade into the clown's eye. He screams soundlessly, raising his hands to his face. You step back, watching his agony with a satisfied expression on your face. "You didn't think it would end so easily, did you?" You purred, folding your arms over your chest. The clown frowns, baring his sharp black teeth, and jumps up from the lifeless body. He walks towards you with quick steps and grabs your throat with his cold hands, lifting you off the ground. No matter how thin he looks, the guy has plenty of strength. You giggle, covering his hands with yours. You can already feel the air leaving your lungs, being replaced by an unpleasant burning sensation. Without thinking twice, you reach out your hands, touching the clown's face with your fingers, and scratch his painted face, mixing the paint with the blood from his wounded eye. He presses harder, enjoying the crunch of your airways.

• It quickly turned into a constant game of cat and mouse. Wherever Art was, you were always there. And I was in his way. Art was angry, cursed, and killed you. But you were coming back. Each time, your body was still decorated with old scars, but the man added new ones. He realized that the old scars would disappear. He had to make new ones. It was as if he was celebrating his favorite, best victim in this way. He can't be uninterested in your natural stubbornness and immortality.

• Over time, the clown really begins to look forward to your recovery and return, despite the slight irritation that you cause in him. He feels it in the pleasant piercing of his fingers. His hands crave you, your body, his fingers want to touch your scars and leave new ones.

• Your constant presence in Art's life begins to gradually change his thinking and thoughts, your image has settled in his head like a damn poison.

• Your immortality and lack of fear make you a really worthy partner for Art, he realizes this on an unconscious level. There's something about you. Something that makes his blood boil in his head. He's falling in love with you. Yes, in his own way, but he falls in love. Despite your initial maniac-victim relationship, Art is starting to see you as almost an equal. This is surprising. He loves you in his own twisted way.

• Art and you are in a love-hate relationship, constantly joking and arguing with each other. Despite the constant quarrels, you are united by a deep connection and understanding, which becomes apparent in your communication. You both feel extremely comfortable in such a relationship in your own perverted way (this is especially damn noticeable in sex..)

• Art begins to crave your company and gets annoyed when you are not around. There's something nice about knowing that after a bloody murder, he can properly combine his anger and passion on you. Especially in your intimate moments. Playing with blood, strangulation and other elements of bdsm is an integral part of your pleasure. You are a perfect match for each other, you are feared by all the states in the district.

[starsofang]

Hi there. I wanted to make a request for something a bit personal. All this week, my family has been criticizing my weight (which I have struggled with my whole life) and told me point-blank that no one would ever love me because of it. That being said, I would like to request a writing with Soap. Let's say the reader has been avoiding sex with him for a while. They'll kiss and stuff, but as soon as he starts pulling her shirt up, she pulls it back down and makes some sort of excuse. This goes on for a while until Soap confronts her about it. She basically then goes off, pointing out all her bodily flaws and how fat and hideous she thinks she is and asks him how he could ever think she was sexy. And all he says is, “How can I NOT?” And he makes love to her and every time she makes a complaint about her body or calls herself ugly, she shushes her, ultimately taking her in front of a mirror and making her look at herself and how sexy she looks taking him. And when they're done, Soap should talk about how she's not fat, she's cute and squishy.

i just want you to know that you’re not defined by your weight, and you will absolutely find somebody who will love you no matter your appearance <3 i’m a big girl dating a fit man and he treats me wonderfully, despite many people bullying me for my weight and thinking he’s silly for dating a big girl. you will 100% find somebody like that who will love you for you, and your family is wrong about that <3 i’m sending you all my love anon!!!

i hope this is to your liking!!

tw: NSFW, MDNI, brief angst with fluffy smut :3

Johnny was the love of your life. There wasn’t a doubt about it in your mind that he was the one you’d spend the rest of your days with, growing old together, showered in each other’s unconditional love.

Lately, though, you were wondering if you were the love of his.

The reflection in the mirror every time you snuck a glance whispered nasty things to you. Hurtful and cruel, dousing you in doubtful insecurity, all geared towards the way you looked. It pointed out all of your soft rolls, the pudge of your stomach, the cellulite on your thighs.

Every time you came face to face with your reflection, it was a constant thought that plagued your mind of why Johnny wanted to be with somebody like you. Why he chose you.

Blinded by your own criticism, it began to take a toll on your relationship.

It started off small, like gently pushing him away with a forced laugh every time he’d come up behind you and rest his hands on your hips, kneading the flesh. Or, when he’d lay in bed at night with you, arm slung over your stomach, seeking out your touch in order to fall asleep, you’d roll to face away from him, fearful of Johnny feeling the softness of your body.

It was a bigger issue when sex became less frequent — not that Johnny minded if you weren’t in the mood. He respected you. But Johnny knew you far more than you thought he did, and he could see the tell-tale signs of you distancing yourself.

He noticed the way you shied away from him, brushing his hands off like you were scorched from his touch. Hiding away in oversized clothing, concealing any sliver of your body.

At first, Johnny didn’t say anything. He didn’t know how to approach it, and he didn’t want to assume anything was wrong. Maybe you were having an off time!

It wasn’t until tonight, where he had you gracefully laid out in your bed, that he knew something was truly wrong.

The rough pads of his fingers slowly slid down to the hem of your shirt while his lips remained occupied against yours, carefully slipping the fabric up across your stomach. Almost instantly, your body tensed up, your own hands grasping hold of the end of your shirt to roughly tug it down, successfully covering yourself back up.

Johnny paused, pulling away from your kiss to peer down at you with a worried furrow in his brow.

“Bonnie,” he frowned. “What’s all this about?”

You busied your lip between your teeth, turning your head away in order to avoid seeing the ache in his eyes. You didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want him to confirm your insecurities by telling you he saw what you saw in the mirror.

“Talk t’me,” he encouraged, gently guiding your head to look at him, thumb stroking along your cheek.

“I just—“ You sucked in a breath, before everything came spilling out at once. “I don’t want you to see me. I know I’m chubby, I know I’m not small. I don’t understand what you see in me.”

“Bonnie—“

“I don’t see why you love me when I look like this,” you finished, cutting him off. By the time you finished rambling, you had to catch your breath. A frown settled on your lips, and the sight of it caused Johnny to ache.

“How could I not?” Johnny breathed, voice so tender yet serious. He stared down at you, eyes flickering over your face, wanting so badly to smooth away the downward pull on your lips and furrow in your own eyebrows.

You said nothing, darting your eyes away to look at the ceiling instead of him.

“I love everythin’ about ye,” he continued, leaning down to press a subtle kiss to your cheek, moving down to your jaw, then your neck. “And I certainly love yer body. Do I have t’show ye myself?”

You finally glanced back to meet his gaze. He had a smile on his lips and a gleam in his eyes, one only reserved for you.

“C’mon,” he urged, pulling himself off of you and guiding you to sit up.

Once the two of you were standing, he quietly asked for permission to undress you. He noticed your hesitance so he waited patiently for you to answer, but once you told him yes, he happily obliged.

Johnny worked slowly to peel off every layer of your clothing until they were a heap on the floor at your feet. He took in the sight of you bare, smiling bashfully at the vision, burning it into memory.

He made quick work to undress himself to match your nudity, before sitting on the edge of the bed, tugging you to sit on his lap with your back pressed to his chest. His skin was warm against yours, but his hands were like a burning fire when he slipped them down your sides and to your thighs.

“I want ye t’look in the mirror, bonnie,” he said, nodding his head to the floor length mirror that sat perched up against the wall. When you looked into it, you had a perfect view of yourself in his lap. “How could I not love that?”

You squirmed awkwardly, unable to see what he was seeing. That little voice in the back of your mind still had control, and Johnny could tell. He was determined to rid yourself of it once and for all.

Despite wanting to resist, you continued looking in the mirror, taking in the sight of you on his lap, your thighs resting snugly over his own. Your eyes followed the way his hand slid from your thigh, going up and up until it reached between, lightly dragging through your cunt. His fingers shined almost instantly from your slick, and he took pleasure in coating himself in it further.

A shaky breath left your lips, warmth of arousal pooling in your abdomen. You’d never been able to see him touch you before, but now you have a full view of it. His fingers began circling your clit, while his free arm wrapped around your stomach, keeping you pressed up against him.

“Beautiful,” he murmured next to your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watched with you.

Johnny began indulging himself in the wetness of your cunt, unable to look away from the sight of his fingers sliding between your clit and your hole. He always thought you were stunning, but seeing you like this was heavenly.

Two fingers slipped into you, and your mouth parted, throat catching on to a surprised gasp. He grinned at you in the reflection, taking in the way you wiggled at the intrusion.

“Look at ye,” he hummed, fucking into you at a gentle pace with his fingers. “Bloody gorgeous.”

Your gasps turned into whines, eyes glossing over with a clouded need. You watched hazily as his fingers slipped in and out of you, and for a brief moment, you agreed with him. The sight of you falling apart from his fingers was new, almost thrilling.

As much as Johnny wanted to see you come from just his hand, he needed you to see yourself in the way he saw you. Slipping his fingers out earned a whine of protest from you, but he quickly shushed you by lifting you off of his lap so he could line his hardened cock up to your sopping hole, sinking you down on it.

“Fuckin’ look at ye, bonnie,” he sighed, fingers digging into the fat of your hips, indenting into your softness. He guided you up, slowly dragging his cock along your gummy walls, before pulling you back down, your ass flush against his lap. “Ye look fuckin’ sexy like this. My pretty girl.”

Seeing the way your cunt greedily clenched around his cock, glistening prettily in the reflection of the mirror, you felt surprisingly attractive. The voice in your head was quieting down, instead being replaced with Johnny’s loving praises as he took you.

Your stomach and thighs jiggled with every bounce he made from his hands on your hips, but the look in his eyes was undoubtedly burning with intense desire, clouded over with admiration. You could see how enthralled he was from the sight of you and how much it turned him on.

“This is all mine,” he groaned, squeezing your hips before bringing one hand around to grab hold of your stomach. He did it in such a loving way that you no longer felt insecure, you no longer had the urge to push him away so you could hide your body from him.

Johnny was proving just how beautiful he thought you were while simultaneously making you see it for yourself. He wanted you to feel good about yourself, and it was working.

When he saw the doubtful look in your eyes dissipate into a more confident one, he picked up the pace, eager to bounce you on his cock and make a mess of you. He was determined to make you feel so good that you wouldn’t even remember why you were insecure in the first place.

“So fuckin’ good t’me, don’t even know how I got ye,” he grunted. The words showered you with warmth, filling you up and teetering you near the edge. “I’m a lucky bastard.”

You could feel the build up grow more intense, your moans uncontrollably slipping out. He continued to praise you, engulf you in his compliments, dripping with nothing but love and want.

It sent you over that edge, clenching around him and your breath getting caught in your throat. Just from that sight alone, reflecting back at Johnny from the mirror, he didn’t fall too far behind you, filling you with proof of his undying love and claiming you as his.

From the look of fucked out bliss on your face, he was sure he got the message through.

Cleaning you up and lying you on top him, he basked in the post clarity, hands massaging along your hips.

“I wish ye would’ve told me sooner, bonnie,” he murmured softly, lips pressed against the top of your head that rested on his bare chest. “There’s nothin’ wrong with yer body. I like it this way. Can squish it whenever I want.”

You laughed against him, propping your chin up so you could look at him. His eyes were soft combined with the goofy smile on his face. He looked like a man head over heels, and it was with you.

“If ye need a reminder again, I’ll be glad t’fuck you in front of the mirror as many times as ye need. Or ye can sit on my face so I can worship ye.”

“I might suffocate you if I do that,” you snorted in amusement.

“That’s the point, bonnie. Do I have t’show ye again that I don’t care? Suffocate me.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling a bright laugh from him. He tugged you closer to him, pressing a soft kiss to your head. He’d happily show you as many times as you needed, no matter how many hours it took. He’d die a happy man if it meant getting to see and feel your softness everyday.

[thehusbandoden]

Dabi (26)

Key: angst -💔; fluff -🤍; comfort -❤️‍🩹; angst to fluff -🧡; crack -💜; slight angst -🩵

Fanfictions:

The Endlessly Cracking Dam 🤍❤️‍🩹💔 (requested)

The man called "Dabi" was one of the Imperial Army's best men. Everyone loved him- or did they? Fake smiles and suspicions kept Dabi on his toes, always hiding his face and past. Well, until that darned Hun knocked off his helmet. Zhu Bo, Dabi's all time tormenter, claimed that he was "cursed" and urged their captain to kick him out. But- Dabi just won that battle! Everyone loves him! They wouldn't kick him out... would they? But atlas people are cruel and heartless. Just because of Dabi's patched up face he was kicked out, leaving him and his horse; Mazu, to find there way to the one and only person Dabi could confine in; y/n l/n. | Words: 5,700+ \\ fem reader \\ posted: 11/15/2023

Drabbles/One shots

Lonesome Nights ❤️‍🩹🤍🧡

Dabi's been on a mission for months. You've missed him to the point of nights filled with sobs. Dabi comes home, and feels so guilty about your depression, and tries to make it better. | 1,128 words

The Beauty 🤍

On his way to burn down an agency, Dabi runs into a girl around his age that is exactly his type. (You ;3) | 227 words

Love 🤍💔

Dabi and you have a talk. Dabi, the love of your life is finally able to call your relationship love. | 344 words

Won't let go 💔 (angst ending)

You and Dabi get into a nasty argument filled with insults thrown, piercing one another like venomous daggers. After you leave for some fresh air, you're attacked by another villain, injuring you severely. | 1,823 words

The Twins 🤍🩵(💜)?

While escaping from some heroes, you find an abandoned set of two year old twins. Instantly falling in love, you couldn't help but take them to the hideout, where you surprise your loving husband (Dabi) with the new addition of your tiny family.

Alternative ending for "Cold" (Shigaraki x reader) 🤍🩵

You choose Dabi over Shigaraki.

A Day Off 🤍💜

Dabi Touya gets your kids ready for school so you can rest. You then proceed to have you time once you drop your 4 year old at Uncle Shoto's.

Cry Baby 💜🤍

Wanting a week off with your man, you intentionally get the sickness Dabi has been whining about for over a week now. After a few days you then realize that he's complaining about the slight headache and sore throat you've had for over two weeks. | posted: 9/22/23 | 371 words

That's a New Feeling 🧡❤️‍🩹

You and Dabi get into an argument. | 1,545 words \\ posted: 11/18/2023

Burnt 💔

You gave the love of your life too many chances already. But this time? He crossed a line.. a line that should have never been crossed. | 1,234 words \\ posted: 01/03/2024

More Than Life Itself 🤍❤️‍🩹 -Alternative Ending to Burnt

You wake up from the horrid nightmare. | words 1,099 \\ posted: 01/10/2024

Dinner and Banter 🤍

Dinner, banter, and cuddles with your favorite villain <3 | 532 words \\ female reader \\ posted: 02/05/2024

Never ❤️❤️‍🩹 (request)

Your beloved hubby comforts you when he comes home to find you overthinking <3 \\ 277 words \\ fem reader \\ posted: 02/27/24

Tomorrow

Dabi comes home exhausted and injured, leaving you to tend to his wounds. \\ 405 words \\ fem reader \\ posted: 05/31/24

Headcannons/Scenarios

MHA boys react to you torturing an Endeavor plushie 🤍💜

Simply that my friends. Enjoy the chaos.

How they react to you going to therapy for past abuse 🤍❤️‍🩹 (request)

Self explanatory<3

You flinch during an argument 💔🧡❤️‍🩹

Self explanatory<3 | 963 words

Undercover pro hero reader 🤍 (request)

Self explanatory<3 | 722 words | posted: 9/3/23

You sing "Soft Kitty" to him when he's sick 🤍❤️‍🩹 (request)

Self explanatory<3 | posted: 9/4/23

Comforting their exhausted s/o 🤍🩵 (request)

Self explanatory<3 | posted: 9/27/23

Reader with an ed *platonic* 🤍❤️‍🩹 (request)

Self explanatory<3 | 693 words \\ gn reader \\ posted: 9/28/23

Comforting Claustrophobia Reader 🤍❤️‍🩹 (request)

Self explanatory<3 | 518 words \\ posted: 11/27/23

Liking the Same Heroine as Shoto 🤍 (requested)

Self explanatory<3 | 711 words \\ posted: 12/19/2023 \\ two different endings \\ requested

Couch Surfing Reader 🤍❤️‍🩹 (requested)

Self explanatory<3 | 251 words \\ posted: 01/25/2024 \\ requested

He Doesn't Realize How Much he Needs You Until You're Gone

Self explanatory<3 | 2,424 words \\ posted: 06/06/24

And more yet to come! <3

Masterlist | Requesting Rules

Comments, Requests, and Reblogs are always appreciated<33

Last added to: 06/06/2024

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.

[aegontargarryen]

I totally agree this 10 years time jump should have been layed out, in at least two episodes...

BUT.

I don't believe they cut it like this just for the daemyra ship.

This is about Rhaenyra and Daemon as characters.

We see them AFTER ten years have passed.

Ten years of Rhaenyra staying at King's Landing, with Alicent spreading nasty rumors about her and the parentage of her children. Ten years that she was surrounded by snakes, with no allies whatsoever on the court. Even her own husband, Laenor only cares about fucking and playing knight. She has to command him to stay with her and their sons and not abandon them, ffs.

Harwin can do absolutely nothing to help her and more than that, he just makes things worse. (I enjoyed him beating Crispc*nt but Harwin stepped right into their trap.)

It's not only about her missing Daemon. She has three sons that she has to protect, and on top of that she has to fight tooth and nail with the Queen for her birthright. And she is all alone in this. She stands up in the council to make an important offer, her last try to get the upper hand in this war with the greens, and once again she is humiliated, because she is lactating, of all things.

Now more than ever she needs to be a dragon and play the game, yet she seems left with no fire at all.

On the other side, Daemon spent ten years in exile, away from his family, away from the battlefield. Probably the most years he spent away from King's Landing. He became depressed because no matter what, you can't tame a dragon with wine, or even a beautiful family. He wanted another woman for wife. He loves another woman. And he wanted another life, he wanted to restore his House's name to its old glory with Rhaenyra.

"wed her to me and we will restore this house's name to its old glory."

"Valyria doesn't exist anymore."

The man who once won the war in Stepstones by himself, withered away because he has nothing to believe to, any more. Valyria is just tales to read in books, to soothe the ache in his chest. He feels lost.

And that bitterness in his voice about Rhaenyra giving birth to another son. Damn, the jealousy. For a little moment we got a glimpse of the man who appeared in the wedding ten years ago, wearing a cunning smile at his lips. But he left that night,and now Rhaenyra has 3 sons with Harwin Strong. A man that has a title that once was his, how ironic.

Don't you ever long for home?

No.

And yet, he misses it so much that he doesn't know who he is away from home.

What is a dragon without fire and blood?

And Laena watched this happening in front if her eyes And she tells her daughter, what she told herself all those years. She tells her, "your father tries." And that he did. That's why he exiled himself all those years. Because he was trying.

So, we see them after ten years, as two dragons that lost their fire.

And it's about time they find their fire again. It's about time to unite, for this world is cruel and full of tragedy. For it's time to play their own game.

Fire.

And blood.

You can't tame dragons.

[regression-1863]

Okay inspired by this post: https://www.tumblr.com/hozier-toosweet/747667109810765824/turns-on-computer-ill-be-back-in-approximately?source=share

Anyways here's the first chapter of what I'm calling "LOREYMCLORE FIC" because I added so much unnecessary lore that doesn't exist in cannon.

Small summary: radioapple, alastor pretends to be buddy buddy with Lucifer to annoy Lilith and chaos ensues. Will likely end up as multiple chapters long because I'm a lil silly like that <3 also Lilith isn't a villain and she has more reason for being gone for 7 years than "cuz she can" because I felt like it <333 okay bye

Next->

Alastor remembers his first day in hell like an old friend. 

Most demons, as alastor came to learn, often woke up in the middle of the streets of hell their first day, some lucky enough to be in an area far away from chaos. They’d wake up, confused, and berated by other demons, demons who want one thing; 

Their soul. 

Most give in, as they’re promised protection in this strange new world. 

That's a typical day though. Alastor didn't get a ‘typical first day of hell’, for he didn't wake up in hell. Not at first. 

He remembers it like it was yesterday, the mist on his skin, his vision clouded by the fog, how cold it was…a strange, red glowing outline of something tall in the distance. 

He walked towards it, wondering if he was having a nightmare, or a dream. 

It was neither. 

Something fast and thin ran across the ground, glowing green, before latching onto him, his breathing being stifled, pressure against his neck, closing his eyes, trying to fight whatever it was off, trying to escape— 

A beat. A blink, a moment so small he missed it. It was hotter, there was chaos rather than the eerie silence from before, people were yelling. 

Now he was in hell. Beautiful, beautiful hell…

 -----

Alastor felt like he was going to, and excuse his manners,  lose his fucking mind. 

He was supposed to be celebrating with the others, who were in the hotel. It had been a few weeks since extermination day, and the darling princess decided to host a lovely banquet, hoping to get people to at least visit the hotel. 

And here he was, hiding away in his radio tower. He didn't even bother to reread the letter, he knew the contents of it, so why care? He burned it, the fire glowing that familiar green, leaving nothing save for a few ashes. 

He faded into the shadows, reappearing behind Rosie's emporium, seeing as she was the only one even vaguely aware of his… situation. She, nor would her residents, say a word if they saw anything. 

Still, he felt himself growing annoyed, his skin prickling, like something deep inside him was trying to escape. That wasn't far off, as ‘his’ shadow was pulling him, trying to get him to move. Eventually it literally pulled him two feet away from where it was. 

“Oh would you behave—” the shadow pulled on him again, and pointed up. Finally, he saw what it saw. Something, falling down, down down. “Ah. would have figured they’d give her the decency to use a portal at least.” he murmured.

Before she managed to crash land into hell at nearly a million miles per hour, he used his shadows to reach up nearly forty feet in the air to swiftly grab her. 

He’d have to find a way to explain that to the sinners later…. 

Of course, she didn't stop mid air, still falling, but he was able to slow it considerably before dropping her down on the ground. 

“So, Adam didn't work out that well for you did he?” Alastor brushed the dust off of his arm, not offering to help her up. 

“Says the one who got a nasty scratch from the man himself," Lilith snapped, pulling her hood over her face, trying to stay unnoticed by any sinners. “Take me to the hotel.” she whisper-yelled, her stance wobbly. 

“‘fraid you came at a bad time dear. They’re holding a banquet right now,” his smile grew more cruel.

“Though I'm sure you could make a deal with another angel for a comfy place in paradise, couldn't you?” 

“And you’re still biting off more than you can chew aren't you?” 

“Touche.” Alastor’s voice held a venom that he tried to hide. “Very well, I'll bring you to the hotel.” 

 ----

“Ookaayy,” lucifer started, “sooo…. Tell me what was so important that you proceeded to throw everyone from my daughters' banquet out. Literally.” he laughed nervously. 

Alastor had cornered Lucifer and Charlie on the fourth floor of the hotel, where only Alastor and Lucifer resided. Lucifer then continued; “Because if it's some bull I swear to god—” “leave him out of this,” “I swear to your mother that I will beat you to a pulp.” 

Alastor huffed in fake hurt, “why, your majesty, I’m offended you would think such things of me! I am nothing but an angel.” 

“The day you get redeemed is the day heaven crashlands into hell.” 

“You’d know all about that, wouldn't you?” 

Charlie, who had been cautiously watching the two of them to this point, cleared her throat. “Uh… so, alastor… what was so important that it had to put a stop to… uh… everything?” 

Alastor clasped his hands together, his smile tightening. “So glad you asked dear Charlotte!” he started, “well, you see i was going on a walk to get away from the stench of alcohol and bad decor,” lucifer then interupted, “oh fuck you,”  “in your dreams, now let me finish.— I was on my stroll when I stumbled upon this pesky little thing that I believe belongs to you?” 

Alastor opened the door to Lucifer's room— because god forbid he let anything track mud into his own— and watched the two's reactions. 

Charlie's face was completely unreadable for a solid few seconds, before breaking down completely, tears falling and snot starting to drip as she hurled herself at her mother, easily slipping into a hug. 

Lucifer, however, stayed behind for a moment, hesitating. His own eyes were welling up with tears, and it was obvious he was restraining himself with every last bit of control he had. 

Lilith looked over at him, still practically cradling Charlie in her arms. A small hint of guilt found its way onto her face. 

“You still wear your ring?” she asked. They had divorced long ago, and yet this pulled at her heartstrings. She had missed him admittedly, even if she no longer loved him. 

Those five little words from her had been enough to get Lucifer to also start sobbing, hugging her as tight as he could. 

‘Like father like daughter. How sickeningly sweet.’ Alastor watched, unable to stop how irritated he was at the sight. ‘She's going to cause problems…’ 

He started to silently slip away into the shadows, away from them, ignoring the frantic footsteps of Vaggie running up the stairs at the sound of Charlie crying her eyes out. 

[blitheringbongus]

So I recently found a Drabble I made about this post I made about my AU of Mumbo

It’s about Mumbo and his husband dealing with Mumbo being a vampire <3

Tw: Bunch of mentions about God and a few about Blood Letting

Enjoy? Or not

„My dear, eternal life wasn’t intended for humans to be lived,“

The man, his love, had said. Rough and scarred hands gently cradling the fresh vampires head. „Not how God intended it to be, at last,“

„Then why am I like this? If not for God to have intended?“ His fragile frame had responded. He felt weak. His body struggled to pump blood through his veins, it was clumping together and ceasing as the days passed, and he was hungry, so hungry. How cruel God could be.

„My love,“ the human responded, Mumbo had forgotten his name, the memory was too old, but he’s never forgotten who this human was, and what he meant to him. „This,“ the human looked sorrowfully at Mumbos sickly face, at the deep purple, almost black, veins laying still, „Is because not a creature of God has touched you, but a creature of darkness. Of the night.“

He stroked his thumb gently over Mumbos cheek, wiping away a tear. „You’ve been diseased, my love, with forever life.“

The raven haired man- Creature? Monster? Shuddered.

If God truly was the creator of all, then they were cruel to create the night creatures. What kind God would do such a thing, if not to punish the wretched?

„I am wretched,“ „You aren’t,“

He looked the human in his eyes, and they held nothing but kindness and love and deep, deep sorrow. „You’re still my love, you’re still-„

Mumbos memory always faded whenever someone mentioned his previously owned name, it was frustrating.

„I won’t leave you, not until you’ve tasted the last breath of air on your living tongue,“ Mumbo had said back then, and he meant it.

„I don’t doubt it a second.“

And Mumbo knew this human was scared. Not of him, but of growing old with him. They had many talks, the following years.

The human, his human, was afraid of Mumbos sorrow, watching him growing old and grey, and Mumbo staying the same as the day he got diseased.

But the years they spent, they were good years.

They lived together in a cabin in the woods, having moved out of their Victorian town, there wasn’t a slither of a chance the people wouldn’t hunt him down and call him a nasty hag, a devils bride, so his love and he decided to leave as soon as the physical symptoms started appearing.

The two hunted together, and they cooked together, and Mumbo couldn’t eat the finished meals but he was always able to suck the blood out of the hunted prey.

They never hunted humans, not in a million years. It didn’t matter how many folk tales there were of vampires only hunting humans and nothing else, Mumbo could live off of the animal blood.

Though it kept him going, it wasn’t exactly healthy for him. It didn’t keep him full for long, and always kept him yearning and weak for the blood of another.

Deep down, he was still human. He may be classified as a vampire, but at the end of the day, he was simply diseased, not changed into a monster. It took him quite some time to realize, his lovers reassurances and gentle nature having helped a lot with it.

The two always talked about their issues together. Whenever something was bottling itself up, the other would notice and try to gently push one another to open up.

One of these things included Mumbos need for human blood. His love didn’t know about wether or not Mumbo could only thrive off of animal blood, but he certainly knew something was wrong, and his love was never if barely satisfied with his so called meals.

He gently pushed him to talk about it for months and months until Mumbo finally confessed.

„I have morals,“ „Yes?“ „I would never feed on a sentient being,“ „Oh,“ and Mumbo could see the cogs twist and turn in his lovers face. „Have you had urges?“

Mumbo shifted slightly under their shared bed sheets, it was night, and he was more hungry than ever.

„Too many.“

And Mumbo left it at that, he just needed to confess it.

„You could feed on me?“

Looking back, this was the most ballsy statement Mumbo has ever heard from anyone before. At least conscidering the context. Sure, he fed on a couple of the hermits nowadays to stay healthy and all, but that’s because they all knew just how much Mumbo could take before dizziness or anything set in.

Plus, if he ever went too far, they could always respawn! Not that Mumbo ever did go that far.

But the point is, research about blood letting and how much a vampire needs a day to stay healthy is readily accessible to the hermits and himself, so it was safe.

Back then? Not so much.

He and his love had no idea what was conscidered safe and what not, so the fact that he’d just offer letting Mumbo feed on him was the most trusting, romantic, and stupid decision he’s ever heard be made from anyone in his life time and following. And he loved him so much more for it.

„My dear,“ „My love?“ „I’m not sure if I should, I’m not sure if I could,“

[francesminos-tt]

https://www.tumblr.com/francesminos-tt/722099205799280640/wrote-something-based-on-this-and-a-curiouscat

Did you write something about them in this universe? I miss this dynamic <3 anything !!!!

I am not sure if this is toxic enough for you, but I want to write something domestic in this universe.

When Daeron first introduced Loras to Joffrey, the omega’s first instinct was to kick Daeron’s dick so hard that the damned alpha could never, ever, preform in bed. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that he was on the receiving end of Daeron’s sexual performance. If Daeron couldn't get hard again, it was Joffrey who had to pay the price. So, Joffrey opted to punch Daeron’s handsome face, breaking the alpha’s nose with a clean upper cut.

“Holy shit!” Daeron cried out in pain, covering his bleeding nose, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Punching you. Isn’t that obvious?” Joffrey replied coldly, cracking his knuckles, “In fact, I would love to do that again.”

“What for?” Daeron winced, his voice sounding funny because he had trouble breathing through his nose, “I did nothing!”

“Oh, you clearly did something.” Joffrey sneered, landing his eyes on the blonde boy clinging to Daeron’s leg like a drowning man clinging to a driftwood, “Tell me. Which whore did you fuck to end up with this?”

This was a little boy with sandy blonde hair and deep blue eyes, no more than 8 years old, if Joffrey had to guess. Maybe even younger. He and Daeron had only been married for 5 years, so if the boy was indeed Daeron’s bastard, the affair must have happened before their marriage. Joffrey knew he had no right to punish Daeron for casual sex before marriage, but he couldn't help himself. The possessiveness was slowly eating him up from the inside.

“What? What nonsense are you talking about…?” Daeron trailed off as realization finally sinking in, “Oh, fuck. Do you think Loras is mine?”

“Who else’s son could he be?” Joffrey asked, a bit too accusingly, “I’ll admit. The kid isn't too bad looking. His mother must be a beauty.”

“Well, thank you, but unfortunately, I don't know a damn thing about his mother. Hey, kid, is your mother a beauty?” Daeron rolled his eyes but regretted immediately, because who knew rolling eyes could hurt one’s nose so much?

“Stop playing smart.” Joffrey snorted, “Do you want to be punched again?”

“I don't know who my mother is, my lord. My master told me that he bought me at a market.” The boy answered, his voice soft but clear. He seemed scared of Joffrey’s blunt violence, but he didn't run.

“Did you hear him, Joffrey?” Daeron hissed as he wiped the blood from his nose, “The kid is a slave. I found him wandering on the street.”

“And you suddenly decided to bring him back?” Joffrey asked disbelievingly, “What is him? A stray dog?”

“My master died in a fire, my lord.” The boy explained in Daeron’s place, “I managed to escape the burning house, and have been living in Flea Bottom since.”

“He tried to steal my dagger, you know?” Daeron said, giving the kid a half-minded slap on the head, “Nasty little menace, but he has some guts. I think you two will get along.”

“I am not your puny wife who will thank you for the stray puppy you bring back.” Joffrey said. He was not a cruel man, no, but he had learned from a young age that it was impossible to save everyone. If he tried to save every slave, every orphan, every forced whore, he would be drowned by the responsibility. It was better to focus on the large scheme, like boosting trades, encouraging free flow of labor, etc. Joffrey wasn’t his brothers, who were heirs to the realm and the most important trading hub, but he tried his best to help facilitating such measures. However, his effort to create a better realm didn't involve adopting a child.

“I am not a stray dog.” Surprisingly, it was the boy himself who stood up to Joffrey, “My name is Loras. I am human. I can understand what you are saying, my lord.”

Daeron raised an eyebrow at Joffrey, as if saying, ‘See? I told you. The kid has some guts.’

“Very well. Loras,” Joffrey turned to the boy, “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing, my lord.” The boy replied, “Nothing you give me can change my life. You give me a hot meal today, I will sure to starve tomorrow; you give me gold today, I will still need to steal from others tomorrow. Nothing makes a difference, my lord.”

The boy, Loras, surely had a unique view of the world. Granted the boy was the most pessimistic person Joffrey had ever met, but somehow, the boy’s words made sense. A temporary show of kindness was not the solution. If anything, it was only the beginning of doom.

“You stole from a prince, boy.” Joffrey said, his interest now perking up, “It’s punishable by death. I can kill you now, or, I can make you my personal servant and torture you forever. Do you want to beg for my mercy now?”

Daeron had come to Joffrey’s side, leaning onto the omega and wiping his bloody hand on Joffrey’s robe. He was clearly asking for another punch, but Joffrey was too busy to deal with him now. The omega just grabbed Daeron’s wrist, embedding his nails into the alpha’s skin, hard enough to draw blood. Daeron chuckled in his ear.

Loras hesitated. This lord, or rather, prince, was not how he had imagined a prince would be. Prince Joffrey was violent and unstable, but honest at the same time. Loras had thought he wouldn't fear death, but when death was at arm’s reach, he hesitated.

“It’s normal to fear, kid. It makes you human.” Daeron spoke; his nose had stopped bleeding, but his wrist was bloody from Joffrey’s merciless nails.

Loras swallowed. He had never begged for mercy before, not to his cruel master or the lords he had stolen from, but now, his resolve was quivering.

“Please don't kill me, my lord.” Loras finally said with a shaking voice, his deep blue eyes watery from the fear.

“Very well. You will be my personal servant from now on, Loras.” Joffrey smiled, a twisted but charming smile, “But first, I need to correct you. I am not a lord. I am a prince.”

“Yes, my prince.” The boy lowered his head obediently.

Loras became a constant shadow of Prince Joffrey from that day. Joffrey let the boy dress in black and red, the Targaryen house color, and allowed the boy to follow him everywhere. Loras helped Joffrey dress every morning, brought the prince his breakfast, and prepared for any necessities for the day’s event. Loras had done a great job so far. He didn't even freak out when he entered Joffrey’s bed chamber one morning and witnessed a heated sex session of Joffrey and Daeron.

Joffrey couldn't bear children, and he had no intention to do so, but everyone could tell he was enjoying his time with Loras, including his husband Daeron.

“Not every servant can have a private room and sit down with his master to dine, you know.” Daeron said as he watched Joffrey share a large bowl of soup with Loras.

“My servant, my rule.” Joffrey replied, handing Loras a piece of buttered bread, “Here, take it. I don't like herbal butter.”

Then why would you order herbal butter to go with your bread? Daeron wanted to say, but he chose to keep quiet. Joffrey was spoiling Loras, and Daeron found it quite entertaining. He loved seeing Joffrey’s rare softness sometimes. It only made Joffrey’s sharp tongue in bed hotter.

“Do I need to serve your husband something too, my prince?” Loras asked while kept looking in Daeron’s way, “Wine, perhaps?”

“No, there is no need. He can pour his own wine.” Joffrey stopped the boy with a shrug, “Can you, husband?”

Daeron chuckled and got up from the bed, still in his undershirt. He poured himself a full goblet of wine before coming to the dining table and settled down beside Joffrey. Joffrey didn't even look at him, too busy seeding a grape. He peeled the fruit and seeded it, before sending it to Loras’s mouth. If Daeron didn't know any better, he would say this was a touching scene of a mother and a son. The alpha couldn’t help but began to picture what kind of a mother Joffrey would be. By the looks of it, Joffrey would be the kind of mother who spoiled their children rotten. It was hard to imagine a violent and chaos person like Joffrey would be such a parent, but Daeron loved it. It was a shame he could never have his own children with Joffrey, but Loras the next best thing.

“Make sure to eat all the vegetables, boy.” Daeron said, sipping his wine and enjoying the little scene playing out before him, “Prince Joffrey hated his carrots. You have to eat them all in his place.”

Loras nodded seriously, shoving a large spoonful of carrot puree into his mouth.

“Slowly.” Joffrey chimed in, but not unkindly, “I don't want you to choke.”

Loras loved his new master. Prince Joffrey was demanding, but the boy could see the passionate and honest soul behind the chaotic facade. It was the same with Prince Daeron. Joffrey always acted merciless and rough around his husband, but Loras had seen Joffrey gently tucking Daeron in after the blonde prince had passed out from fatigue of training.

Loras didn't know much about marriage, and he was sure a normal couple would not fight each other in the bed chamber, but still, he thought Prince Joffrey and Prince Daeron made a lovely couple.

Daeron picked up a cube of cheese and pressed it on Joffrey’s lips, and the brunette prince opened his mouth almost instinctively without even looking up, still focusing on seeding the grapes. Joffrey swallowed the cheese and opened his mouth again, this time, taking a piece of baked potato in. They continued this weird feast for a while, Daeron feeding Joffrey and Joffrey feeding Loras, until a maid came to clean the plates.

The next day, the rumor of Prince Joffrey adopting a blonde boy with deep blue eyes spread across the Red Keep like wild fire. To make the rumor spicier, it was said that this boy was actually Prince Daeron’s bastard. Daeron laughed after learning the rumor, while Joffrey threatened to cut off those gossiping tongues. Loras, the boy in question, smiled.

[jimmyspades]

I sent the fatherly pinstripe suit ask half way through the ep. HOWEVER!!! That night he told Denny that he got his university girlfriend pregnant…. He was SO close to becoming a dad </3 

2 eps later and we get FANTASTIC shots of Alan in an old timey swimsuit

This is only tangentially related but Alan is such an interesting character to me partly bc of his lack of anger. Like of course he gets pissed off but he rarely loses his temper, he’s just not an angry man. And you think about everything he’s been through—his parents’ neglect, being abused as a teenager, losing his wife, even “smaller” things like the abortion

All these things totally out of his control and he could rage against them or anyone, he could be that nasty cruel person, but he doesn’t, he isn’t. He doesn’t complain when he’s talking about his parents, just states things plainly; he doesn’t express anger over his wife’s death (whether it was sudden or not we don’t know but I have Theories); he’s even polite to one of the women who abused him; he’s hurt that he wasn’t consulted but still fully concedes it was his girlfriend’s call to not have the baby, he acknowledges how she must’ve been feeling

He’s got this sort of passive attitude about how he got here, why he is this way. And idk whether that’s acceptance like “these things happened, they were hard but they don’t define me :)” or acceptance like “I deserved all of that”

But under that aloofness, the detachment he tries to maintain, he IS working hard, he’s actively handling things. I think his goal is to have enough control to make sure those things don’t happen to him again. He’s not going to be angry and let it eat away at him, but he’s not going to be abandoned, he’s not going to be used unless it’s on his terms, he’s not going to be in a position where someone else makes his decisions. Maybe that’s why he was so weird in LA when Denny wanted power of attorney to “pull his plug” if anything happened to Alan. Alan has no problem taking care of Denny, but even Denny—who is so often the exception to strict Shore rules—is not permitted to hold that kind of authority over Alan’s autonomy

Wow this was so totally not what this ask is about. But yes his cute little old man Coney Island 1920s swimsuit are you kidding me. The way he waddles around the office in his flippers I’m smooching tf outta him!!!

[agent-cupcake]

who are ur top 5 favourite characters to write for? also i love the way u write and i apologize if this is a silly question haha 💝

No please I am a raging egomaniac I love talking about myself

1. I am compelled to say Buggy is number one just because his dialogue took me a lot of time to figure out and I've dedicated the past couple of months of my life to the man. It's cute that he needs everybody to like him but he has no idea how to be actually likable. He has such low tier sort of rat energy with how he gets what he wants, it's very endearing how he just stumbles into success.

2. Emet-Selch. He's so smug and extra and disgustingly posh. He's old and bored and miserable so everything he does and says has a purpose, it's all artifice. I do kind of hate (or love? I don't know) the archaic English.

3. Sylvain... Yeah, I think I like writing Sylvain a leeedle more than Dimitri. He's kind of a scumbag kind of a big brother type friend kind of a big brain clever guy.... OR, more accurately, he lends himself more to my degeneracy.

4. Ardyn is a lot of fun because he is horrible. He enjoys going out of his way to be cruel and mess with people, and I love that for him. Also again I can just dump a lot of my nasty nonsense on him because he's crusty and mean and old.

5. Tied between Dimitri and Suguru. I love them both so much that I don't know that I do either of them justice but I feel like there will be very bad moral repercussions if I don't point out that I do, in fact, love them.

[nuttytani]

Celestia's Cruel Thesis

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Tartaglia | Childe x Zhongli

Premise: Childe gets isekai'd to a Liyue where Rex Lapis still rules over it.

chapter 2 link

You can also read this fic on ao3 here

Chapter 3: May the odds be ever in your favour

“Dear Milleliths, you might have the wrong person,” Master Liu Siu speaks up at last and tries to walk closer to where Childe was. 

He is blocked by the Millelith that crowded around the redhead and gets a polite warning instead. “We indeed have the right person. Please don’t be fooled by this innocent looking man, Liu Siu Xiansheng,” the commander of the group says as he gives a nasty glare towards Childe. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have never used counterfeit mora in my life,” Childe counters, feeling confused about this predicament he is currently in. 

The commander looks as if he wants to roll his eyes but refrains himself and continues to speak, “Further discussions regarding this matter will be after we take you to Jade Chamber. Stop resisting, and perhaps you might receive a lighter punishment for your blasphemy.” 

A handful of the teahouse patrons start their murmuring. It’s not loud, but enough to make out what they’re saying. 

“Tsk tsk tsk… See, this is why we should never trust a qigai.” 

“What do you mean by qigai? He doesn’t behave like one. I’m sure you meant to say Snezhnayan. Aiyah…Sometimes I wonder why Dijun and the Qixing let them all trade in the harbour.”

“Hush now! Don’t be rude. It’s the Fatui who are trouble.”

“And? Most Fatui are Snezhnayans.” 

“Oh...I thought the boy was from Fontaine, blue eyes and all.”

“Pshhh… I heard the boy talk distinctly in Snezhnayan a few times to himself. I’m not that old to be deaf.”

 So they’ve already begun to gossip, huh. 

There was no way out of this. The gods must truly hate him. Not only did he get fooled in Liyue, arrive in a strange Liyue, and get called names by the locals, but also got accused of creating counterfeit mora. Well, the gods hated him, since the instant he was born. How could he forget about falling into the abyss at the shy age of 14? Which entirely changed the trajectory of his life. 

Childe pauses his self-deprecating thoughts, with a resigned sigh, he holds his hands out, and the Milleliths in charge quickly handcuff him. Meanwhile, Sir Fan Er’ye and Master Liu Siu observed the entire scene play with an unfamiliar look in their eyes. Surely, it must be disgust. He couldn’t tell– with the way the two were frowning so hard.  

With arrogance, one of the younger Milleliths harrumphs, and tips his head upwards, “Let us leave.” He then pointedly scrutinises Childe and resumes his spiel, "Don't think about escaping! It’s nearly impossible to. Those handcuffs are made specially by Liuyun Jiefeng Zhenzhun.” 

I wasn’t even going to escape, you doofus. How annoying.    

“Yes, yes…. Tie me up, bind me, strip me, whatever. I will not run away, lest I want the wrath of the rock,” he says in an annoyed voice. Speaking with these haughty Milleliths and nobles rubbed him in all the wrong ways. 

The Millelith however looks back at him with scorn, it seems like he said something wrong because the soldier replies with seething venom, “How dare you carelessly speak of his imperial majesty like that! Another word and I might as well chop that tongue off!”

“Youxu– that’s enough. There will be consequences if you act without orders,” the commander cautions the younger. 

“But Ge… I mean… Seargent Fengyan, this lunatic needs to be disciplined!” the one named Youxu says in earnest. 

“Indeed, however, we are unqualified to issue such punishments.” He reprimands Youxu, before facing his team. “Soldiers, make haste. It will be sundown by the time we make it to Yujing Terrace,” Sergeant Fengyan barks out loud enough for the entire teahouse to hear and there is pin drop silence. All the chattering stopped. 

Every single Millelith saluted Sergeant Fengyan and in unison, all yelled hooah.  

.

Now, that is how Childe stood, in front of the three Qixing ladies. His hands were still bound by the handcuffs and the Milleliths had blocked his every movement with their spears all around him. They were on guard twice as much. It appeared that his his last encounter with the soldiers in Yiyan Temple was not forgotten. 

If it weren’t for the strange Adepti handcuffs on his wrists, he would have escaped this place in record time. Except then he’d be 1) fugitive with a bounty on top of his head for apparently using counterfeit mora 2) his imperial majesty, the almighty Yanwang Dijun and his Adepti friends would capture him in a second. So frankly, there’s no point in running away. He just hopes this is all some strange misunderstanding because he has never used fake mora, ever. 

“You foreigner, named Childe, speak at once, about how you got hold of counterfeit mora.” Tianquan, Lady Ningguang, looked down at him, from the stage she stood, alongside Yuheng and Secretary Ganyu. Her gaze was sharp, her bright umber eyes stared deep into him, examining.  

Someone from the Milleliths surrounding him whispered amongst themselves, “I thought it was child– as in haizi.” 

“Tsk tsk, Yong’an-Ge… It is Childe, as in young nobleman,” the other Millelith responded in a hushed tone.

“Oh… Isn’t he a qigai? You know…The clothes and all.” 

“That’s the confusing part, is he trying to play the game of opposi–”

“Please, remain silent. We wish to hear what the convict has to say,” Keqing ordered, especially at the chattering pair. The hall indeed becomes completely quiet, save for the constant breathing of all and the heavy atmosphere lingering in the air. 

Childe cleared his throat and brought the attention of everyone in the Jade Chamber hall, to himself. Ah– he is unsure about what to say. It’s not like the Qixing would believe his words, not after their last meeting and specifically after they’re convinced that he made fake mora. 

With carefully constructing words in his head, Childe raised his voice, “Members of respected Qixing. I’m confused as to why I’m brought here in your office, in such a manner, it might be hard to believe since you all seem to have a biased opinion of me… however– I swear on my life and the Archon of love, that I have never created nor distributed counterfeit mora.” He took a deep breath and kneeled on the ground, while the Milleliths adjusted their spears around him. “All I want is to go back to my original world, and there is no reason for me to produce fake mora, especially when I require the help of your Archon to send me back home.”

As if tired of hearing him talk, Keqing heaved a loud sigh. She glanced back and forth between Lady Ningguang and Secretary Ganyu. Finally, she beckoned one of the secretary ladies, who stood on the side. 

“Baixiao, please bring the pouch over and the records please,” Secretary Ganyu addressed the shorter woman.  

“Yes, right away.” Baixiao bowed, disappeared quickly and appeared just as fast. Her hands held a huge pouch of mora and a stack of documents, she handed them over to Ganyu. 

Click-clack of Ganyu’s heels echoed in the Jade Chamber hall, as she delicately stepped down the stage and walked towards Childe. Her expression betrayed no emotions, as she opened the pouch of mora (the same pouch he gave to that perverted Lao Guai) in her hands, and proceeded to pull a coin out. 

She took a long look at it, flipping the sides over and over until she was satisfied with whatever she saw. “Baiwen, please take a note of serial number LE22300769.” 

“Yes, Secretary Ganyu.”

“This year’s minting of mora started with the letter C. The serialisation of mora with the letter L is supposed to happen 9 years from now. The letter E denotes the batch number. The serial number of the mora I have just read, which I shall repeat; LE22300769.” Ganyu closed her eyes and muttered something under her breath, before staring him down with cold and unfeeling eyes. 

“This originated from you, Mister Childe.”

That doesn’t sound good… At all. Is he doomed? An ex-harbinger put into jail for the production of counterfeit mora, how funny. Especially when the Qixing couldn't even lift a finger at him after the release of Osial. Funny indeed. He was actually doomed. 

He thought all mora was the same. Well, not exactly, but mora is mora. The ones he has or had in possession are in fact, very real and not fake. At least not in the other Liyue. Who knew using it would land him in shit? Childe thinks hysterically. Doomed from the start, he was using his precious mora pouches from day 1 in this Liyue. 

“Mister Childe? Will you still claim to not know anything?” Ningguang questioned, sweetly. 

Her words were like the final nail to his coffin, or so he felt. Would he even get a coffin? Perhaps he should have brought Hu Tao’s free 2 coffin coupon deal. Although it would be invalid in this Liyue. 

Someone snickered, finding this situation entertaining at his expense. 

Laugh at me all you want, assholes. 

“Mister Childe, if you don’t have any evidence to prove yourself to be innocent, then I’m afraid, we have no choice but to sentence you to 3 years of imprisonment, such states the law of Liyue,” Ningguang resumed speaking, while also giving the snickering fools a stern look. “I must say, these new Milleliths have no sense of dignity. Sergeant Fengyan, I believe your work is cut out for you.”

Sergeant Fengyan felt quite ashamed on behalf of his new unit. It didn’t look good for him as their leader; it painted Fengyan as an irresponsible commander. The soldiers of his unit had misbehaved multiple times in front of the Qixing today. He bowed deeply and apologised, “I will make sure to discipline them well, Lady Ningguang.” 

She simply nodded. 

Although the attention from Childe was shortly directed elsewhere, Keqing, the Yuheng, had been staring at him for quite some time. Never straying her gaze from him, observing. When he at last met her unwavering and quite uncomfortable watch, she gave him a mischievous grin.

“So, I’ve been wondering, and please indulge my genuine question, Mister Childe, how were you able to replicate mora? They feel like the real deal, the only mistake you’ve made is the serialisation of them.” Keqing quirked a brow and took a scroll out of her dress pocket, scribbling something down with her brush pen. 

Childe grimaced, he knew she wouldn’t believe him, they clearly didn’t when he tried to ‘explain’ himself mere moments ago, opting to completely ignore what he said instead. A million thoughts passed in his mind. What would he do? What should he say? What options were left? He was once again aware of how alone he was in this place, no one he could trust, no one to rely on and certainly no one to pull him out of this mess. 

Sure, he may be friendly with Granny Ping, Master Liu Siu and some other elderly people who were kind to him, but do they truly care for him? For Liyuens in this world, he’s nothing but a sorry looking miserable qigai and now a criminal. For all he knows, the elderlies might have felt pity about his circumstances and wanted to be generous to score some moral points. Plus, it’s not like the people back in the other Liyue liked him. 

He breathes in.

He breathes out. 

Grounding his emotions right now is the most important task at the moment. If there’s one thing he learned from Master Skirk, is that nothing can be done with a tangled heart. Childe, with much hesitation, opens his mouth but the words are stuck in his throat. He has nothing to say nor any evidence to prove his innocence. 

“Mister Childe? You don’t have to tell me, we will eventually find out ourselves. The Qixing is capable enough for that, so there’s no need for the magician to reveal their secrets,” she mocked, with her self-assured grin. 

There was an abrupt murmur. All the Millelith stood at attention. The golden door to the Jade Chamber hall opened up. The pair of guards by the door clacked their spears against the marble flooring and stood ramrod straight before announcing in unison, “His Imperial Majesty, Yanwang Dijun, arrives!”

“Pay your respects to Dijun.”

The heavy ornate door flung open, as the Archon made his entry. Every single person bowed and recited, “Thousands of blessings to our lord!” 

Yanwang Dijun, in plain words, looked stunning. He was dressed to the nines, as usual. He wore beige coloured robes with golden iridescent embroidery on the cloth; they were scale like patterns– Childe concluded after a proper look. His silky hair was in a loose braid today, tied at the end with a yellow ribbon. In his hand, he held a foldable fan. A dainty little thing, a white background that had multiple blue glaze lilies painted. 

Childe could only stare at him with a dumbfounded expression. Not even bothering to rise from his kneeling position. Not for long, though. The Millelith who stood next to him must have witnessed his less than respectful stare. The soldier grabbed him by the arm, yanked him up to his feet and pushed on Childe’s back to make him forcefully bow.  

This was like deja vu. He swore something like this happened before. 

Dijun’s amber eyes briefly looked at every person, before eventually stopping at the young man with copper hair. It lingered there for a moment before he finally cleared his throat.

“Rise.” Yanwang Dijun’s voice reverberated in the hall.

All stood straight once more, and the soldier let go of Childe’s back. 

“Pray tell, what is going on here?” Dijun asked quizzically while fanning himself. His people were stunned at their Archon’s arrival, they did not imagine he would show up at the Jade Chamber, not at this hour. Besides, he rarely ever visited the Jade Chamber, unless the Qixing required his help. Dijun mostly spent his time in Yiyan Temple, busy with his own set of responsibilities. 

Everyone stood in silence for a minute or two. That is until Ningguang broke the awkward air by finally speaking, “Greetings, my lord. As you can see, we’re all fulfilling our duties as the Qixing. Rest assured.” 

“Qixing duties that include accusing innocent foreigners,” Childe muttered softly. He could hardly hold himself back from rolling his eyes. Though at the moment he had no proof or evidence to prove his innocence, it didn’t change the fact that he didn’t commit any crime. Well… no crimes in this Liyue, yet. 

Unknown to Childe, Yanwang Dijun heard him mumble, every single word. Possibly thanks to his extraordinary hearing from being an Adeptus. He snapped his white fan closed and slowly stepped towards Childe. 

“Innocent foreigner, you say?” Dijun placed his fan underneath Childe’s chin and tipped his face to meet the god’s gaze. Golden slitted eyes stared deep into his own, seeking something. Seeking what? Childe did not know. But he felt a wave of goosebumps rise on his skin from the sudden act. He was caught off guard, and that wasn’t good. It meant his mask of calm had slipped. 

“Hmm? Tell me. Do you consider yourself to be innocent?” Dijun questioned again.

Childe was silent as he pondered. Would answering the question make the man step away and give him some personal space? Would it make his fake mora predicament better? He doubted, but even so, it was worth a shot.

“Yes,” he replied with furrowed brows. 

Dijun kept staring into his eyes, unblinking. Eventually, the fan under his chin lifted away and with a sunny smile, the Archon moved away at last, turning his back. The fan in his hands snapped open and Dijun sighed, “You all heard him. He’s innocent.”

At that moment, the entire Jade Chamber hall erupted in chaos. Millelith and the respected members of the Qixing were crying and shouting at poor ol’ Yanwang Dijun to rethink his choice. 

“Your majesty, he is a foreigner qigai who committed blasphemy! How can you let him off so easily?” someone from the honourable Qixing, raised their voice. 

“My lord, you know nothing of his deeds. He basically scammed the old and used his young and pretty face to get into their hearts!” one of the Milleliths yelled.

“Are you enchanted by him too, your majesty? Is that why you’re letting this… man named Childe, off the hook?” Keqing joined in. 

Baishi, who had been quiet this entire time, speaks up, “Dear Yuheng, how could you accuse our lord like that! Our esteemed lord is not one to be charmed by a pretty face,” 

“I agree!” The other two Tianquan secretaries; Baiwen and Baixiao, also jumped onto the bandwagon. 

Amidst the chaos of constant arguing and protests between the members of Qixing and the Millelith, Yanwang Dijun stood in the middle, looking slightly amused. The corner of his lips had a slight curl. For some reason, he seemed to find the state of his government humorous. 

Childe did not find this funny at all. Not a single bit. He wanted to pry open the Archon’s head to know what was going on inside that head. Was he off the rockers? Did he take something? His entire government was fighting and the old man wasn't even doing anything? Even the ever quiet Ganyu was taking part in this. 

At last, Dijun seemed to have enough kick from the crisis. He raised his hand halfway, motioning all to keep quiet. 

“Now, I do find all of your theories and assumptions to be interesting, to say the least.” Dijun smiled in such a way that his eyes crinkled around the corners and formed crescents. He continued, “Even so, this is getting out of hand. Please refrain yourselves, you are all members of the Qixing and Millelith… Maintain some semblance of professionalism.” 

The entire crowd looked like children who were scolded by parents. Shuffling their feet and unable to face their lord. They all kept their heads down in embarrassment. Baiwen, on the other hand, seemed to be looking serious by the second as she whispered into Lady Ningguang’s ear. As if agreeing, Ningguang nodded with a severe look on her face. She glanced towards Childe, with a distrust.

He wondered what she was plotting; it was difficult to tell. This entire scene felt like a part of a comedy from the theatre plays back in Snezhnaya and he held himself back from laughing his head off, which was becoming tough as each moment passed. Except, he was the source of comedy, the clown, and that wasn’t something to laugh at. 

“I beg your forgiveness, on behalf of the members of Qixing and Millelith, my lord. We’re all expressing genuine concern, as you do not know the severity of the crimes, Mister Childe, has committed,” said Ningguang, as she motioned for Ganyu to pass over the documents to Dijun; to which, he received with a thanks and proceeded to look over them with a cursory glance. 

“Mister Childe has produced and distributed counterfeit mora in huge amounts. We found out after a thorough investigation, that the employees of Bubu Pharmacy received a suspicious amount of mora from one of their customers. Out of the blue too, I might add,” Ningguang carried on. 

To which, Dijun responded with a soft chuckle, “I am well aware, Lady Ningguang.”

“I believe you do not. Ganyu, please bring in the pouch of mora,” she ordered. Not a minute too late, Ganyu arrived with the pouch of mora. Once again, Ganyu presented it to Dijun. He didn’t even bother to take it. 

“Please, I implore you to check them, my lord.”

“Hmm…But I can already tell that these mora coins are not fake, Lady Ningguang. The geo energy within the pouch of mora you have shown me is undoubtedly the same as any other mora coin in the Golden House–”

Keqing frowned and opened her mouth, “But–”

Dijun raised his hand halfway. “Let me continue. I know of your concerns. I am well aware that the serial codes on these mora coins do not match with what we have available amongst the common folk, also the fact that these should have been distributed at least 9 years later,” he paused, and gave a short look at Childe. “However, this does not mean that the mora Mister Childe has distributed is fake. It’s very real. Now we may all be wondering, then why is it that the codes differ so much?”

The emperor positively glowed when he said, “Simple! The mora he has used is not from this world.”

“Your majesty, that is absurd! Do you really believe the words of a nobody?” It seems Keqing had enough of Yanwang Dijun’s speech and couldn’t help but intervene at last. 

“Ah yes, a nobody indeed. Don’t you find it strange that there is no record of a person named ‘Childe’? After our brief encounter with him in the temple, I contacted Devi Kusanali. She confirmed that there is no one such as Childe nor Tartaglia in Teyvat.” The god hands the documents and the pouch over to Ganyu and steps closer towards where Childe stood. “No record of him in the world tree at all, which is impossible. His claims about being from another world are true. It explains why his ‘mora’ feels real yet the codes are different.” 

The entire hall stares with uncertainty at Childe. They couldn’t believe their ears. Even their lord confirmed that this so-called qigai, was in fact from another world, how could it be? 

“Now, now. No need to be surprised. First, let us release Mister Childe from his handcuffs.” Dijun calls for one of the younger Milleliths, named Yong’an, who held the keys. 

Childe felt his body tense as the god strode towards him, a bit too close for comfort. Childe could smell the mild scent of silk flowers wafting from his robes, as he slipped the key into the hole of the cuffs and twisted it back and forth. The key made squeaky noises while the god struggled to unlock the handcuffs. 

The key made a weird click sound, and the esteemed Yanwang Dijun paused in his ministrations. Blinking slowly at the handcuffs. 

Dijun peeked from beneath his eyelashes and smiled apologetically. “Ah. It seems the key is stuck.” 

“What?” asked Childe, feeling wary.

“The key which unlocks your handcuffs. It is stuck,” the esteemed Yanwang Dijun repeated himself. 

All the officials and soldiers wanted to laugh, but they resisted the temptation. Biting on their lips to keep their giggles in. But a few of them couldn’t help but snort like pigs at how things were progressing. Childe too, wanted to join in and laugh hysterically. Not at Dijun, not at himself, but at his luck. His terrible luck. 

“I heard you fine the first time,” he replied. “Are you doing this on purpose?”

Youxu, the young Millelith harshly pointed at Childe in anger. “How dare you accuse our lord like that! Apologise immediately, you–”

“Youxu-Ge, please… Calm down!” Yong’an covered his friend’s mouth, as Sergeant Fengyan glared at the two. They were given a final warning by the Sergeant, and if they didn't behave themselves, the two would be escorted out and be barred from joining in cases for a month. The two young Milleliths immediately paled and profusely apologised and bowed multiple times. The rest of the soldiers were also given a warning, and all seemed pretty mortified for their actions.

“My apologies, Mister Childe… Please, hold still for a moment.” Dijun grabs Childe’s hands to extend the arms out. He placed his palm, in a spearhand position, between the handcuffs and swiftly struck it. The cuffs split in half and fell with a clang onto the marble floor. 

Lady Keqing was not impressed as she folded her arms. “You’d have to replace that, my lord.” 

“Of course, I shall ask Liuyun Jiefeng Zhenjun to provide you with another.” He then shifted to face Childe. “Well then! You are free to go, but before that, I would like to apologise to you for the disrespect.”

Childe tilted his head and pinched his chin as if contemplating, before he immediately replied, “No, why should I? What will I receive in turn if I do accept your apology? Nothing– exactly. No, thank you.”

Hundreds of eyes were glaring at his back, if they stared any longer, Childe would be burnt to a crisp, like the one time Anthon left the fire on and accidentally charred the rice. Of course, his brother was scolded by Tonia, who put him in charge of making rice. She pulled him by the ear and stood next to him to watch as Anthon started to cook a new batch of rice.  

Dijun made a blank face as if he didn’t expect it, but he instantly changed it back into his polite smile. If Childe wasn’t staring so intently at the Archon, he might have missed it. 

“Well then, how about a tour of Liyue? You haven’t been long in this world, I assume. There’s a lot to see and shop in the land of commerce,” Dijun quickly regained himself and countered. His officials did not like the idea as they started to grumble and chatter again but stopped as their lord gave them an exasperated look. “What do you say?” he asked, sweetly, with that blinding smile and warm amber eyes. 

Wait– why is he even thinking like that? Childe scolds himself in his mind. 

“Fine. On one condition though,” he sighed. “You, Yanwang Dijun, the Lord of Geo, shall pay for everything.”

“It’s a contract.” Dijun looked pleased as he lightly nodded. 

.

Cicadas hummed and a pleasant summer breeze passed by. Bubu Pharmacy was quiet and serene. Most of the employees were on a lunch break. Well, most being Qiqi. Herbalist Gui had to stay behind as Dr Baizhu was away from the harbour.

Someone pushed the door, causing the wind chime next to it to ring. An old man with his walking stick slowly shuffled towards the counter.

“Oh… Guai Yeye! Welcome!” Herbalist Gui greeted the old man with a wide smile. 

“Long time no see, here again for your joints?” the youth asked, whilst placing measured doses of medicine into paper pouches and labelling them neatly with his inky brush pen.

“Good afternoon, young man, ahh yes yes. The usual please,” Lao Guai rasped. He coughed into his fist as his body shook. He looked around the pharmacy with keen eyes. Particularly at the herbal blends that had tags such as ‘great for stamina!’ or ‘no more back pain’. 

Herbalist Gui nodded at the old man and twisted to face the wooden drawers, opening a few. He flips through the paper pouches with the names of the customers who’d receive them. 

“Hmm…Not here.. Just a moment, Yeye.” The young man glanced back and promised to return soon, as he went into one of the staff-only rooms, and in a brief moment came out with a bright smile. 

“Here you go, and that will be 850 mora.” He hands the medicine over to Lao Guai. 

Lao Guai opened his mouth only to erupt in a coughing fit, once he calmed down he thanked Gui and paid him. Gui, however, looked at the old man with concern. He knew that the elderly had developed a nasty cough because of the ever changing weather recently, but instead of improving, whenever he met the old man, he seemed to get worse. 

“Would you like me to pack you some expectorants for your cough? On the house, since you’re a regular.”

“Aiyah… I’d feel too bad for that, young lad… But who am I to deny free medicine?” Lao Guai’s eyes crinkled as he chuckled heartily. “That reminds me, would you mind packing a few of those back pain and stamina blends? Maybe it’ll help me a bit, my wife’s been complaining that I’m always crying about my back and lack of energy… If you know what I mean”

Gui hummed and grabbed the blends from the display shelves. “That will be 5000 mora in total.”

Lao Guai just drops a big pouch of mora on the counter. “Take this entire thing. Recently landed jackpot, you see. Think of it as advanced payment.”

The young man quirked his brow but he kept quiet and took the heavy pouch without complaint. He had seen plenty of things in this pharmacy, and this didn't even make him bat a lash. He just hopes that this elderly hasn’t taken an interest in gambling, otherwise he will make sure to inform his wife promptly. 

He sends the man off with a wave and resumes work. Lunch break was probably over as Qiqi came back and placed her basket, filled with herbs, on the counter.  

“Did you have your lunch, Qiqi?” Gui asked while grabbing the basket from where it was placed and carrying it back into the storeroom. He came back and sighed, plopping down on the chair in front of the little girl.

“Qiqi…ate…” she replied, in a slow manner; to which she received a soft pinch on the cheek. 

“Gui is sad now– I thought we would eat lunch together,” he makes a comically sad face at her.

Now, Qiqi also frowns looking at Gui and gives him a pat on the shoulder. “Qiqi… Eat lunch with Gui… Tomorrow… Don’t cry.” 

While Herbalist Gui and Qiqi were having a sweet moment, a lady in dark blue clothing sneaked in and rummaged through the cash counter. After finding whatever she was looking for, she grabbed the heavy pouch of mora and replaced it with the one hanging on her waist. Effortlessly, she tiptoed out of the pharmacy, unnoticed. 

Author’s Notes for Chapter 3

I did not expect this chapter to be so dialogue heavy… I kind of feel that this was a bit crack and maybe a bit exaggerated? But I’m not sure. Sorry in advance if it is TT

[1] Handcuffs - With Fontaine’s release and all, I thought having proper metal handcuffs would be much better. Though I thought about the Millelith binding Childe’s arms with rope! But he’s too strong for that, so magic-strengthened metal handcuffs it is!

[2] Liuyun Jiefeng Zhenjun - Cloud Retainer’s CN name. The zhenjun part is a title, it means lord. Sorry, I won’t be using CR’s human/mortal name; Xianyun, even though it’s tempting and probably much easier, gotta keep the names consistent, since Rex Lapis goes by Yanwang Dijun. 

[3] Ge - Short for Gege which stands for elder brother / big bro. Used for family members and close friends. 

[4] Hooah - A type of greeting that soldiers use, it means everything and anything, except no. I always thought it was spelled as ‘hah’. You learn new things everyday. 

[5] three Qixing ladies - Found out that Ganyu was not actually a Liyue Qixing member, as in the bigshot members who do the important work. She is their secretary :”D omg and I’ve been playing the game for the past 2 years now… I’m disappointed in myself, not that it’s a new thing. 

[6] NPC Milleliths - They are actually in the game! Nope I didn’t make them up. The only made up characters were Luo Xiansheng and Lao Guai from the first chapter. Again, any names you’ll see in this fic are most likely in the game, unless I state otherwise in the A/N 

[7] Devi Kusanali - Nahida’s title. I hate to use the “lesser lord lord Kusanali” thing so I just went with Devi (which means goddess). 

[8] Spearhand - It looks like this.

[9] Yeye - Grandfather/grandpa 

[10] Expectorant - A type of cough medicine that loosens up the mucus in your airway and helps the secretions to come out more easily through coughs. 

[qwuilty]

Hiii it's morning and time for more postal 1 dude idea vomit <3

This one is much more headcanon territory, treading and elaborating on old ground, so forgive me if some of it sounds a bit like repetition. I'm mainly going over stuff like his thought process, morality, and some family stuff! Also, sorry for the awkward wording cause i wrote most of this while i was trying to sleep. |D

Dudes sense of morality is very strange because he esentially had to make it himself based off of learned experience. Growing up undiagnosed and gullible with a overly prideful mother and an apathetic father divided meant neither instilled particularly strong values in him.

Instead he had to learn from his peers, whatever bits and pieces of influence he could get from family, things he got punished for, and just pure lived experience with all the confirmation bias and incorrect conclusions that comes from it.

There is an Uncle Dave equivalent in my headcanon idea of Postal 1. However, with the tone difference, he's a little different. A relative from Dude's mother's side, he's part of a similarly extreme view of God in a similar tone to Postal 2 Dave (God is good, guns are good, god gives us guns, those who dont want us to have guns are bad and against god) though he hasn't gone full compound. He probably goes more by David, but lets Dude call him Uncle Dave.

He's probably one of the people who were the most kind to Dude, but due to his extremist views and awkwardness, truly speaking and relating to him, it led to some bad influence. I think he would have tried to write to or see Dude once before when he got the insanity verdict, but gave up and was unable to face him with the feeling of guilt for not "seeing it coming".

Dude's view of God in general as a figure is complicated, being given three contradictory accounts from his family.

To his mother, God was to be listened to, never to be questioned. His judgment was always what was right, even if it was cruel, as they must have deserved it in some way. He was the judge of all men, and whatever sentencing he gave was final, no matter how inconsequential the "crime" was.

To his father, God was a cruel bastard who threw you out to the wolves, made you figure things out on your own, and never was there for you when you needed him. He was no better than any man on earth and deserved to be questioned and derided for his poor judgments as well.

And to Uncle Dave, God was benevolent, kind, and always watching over his children. Always there to listen, there to answer your prayer, and always there to see when you were acting up. So Dude had better watch his back unless he wanted to have a lot to answer for at the pearly gates.

Dave had likely meant it in a more joking manner to get his nephew to stay out of trouble, but the image of God as a constant surveying force burrowed itself in pretty deep in Dude.

Along with conflicting ideas about God, he has his own strangely built idea of trust from life, mainly related to people. Having grown up different neurologically and physically from his peers, even on a smaller scale when he was young, wasn't easy. He was subject to teasing and bullying at a young age, beginning a lifelong alienation from his peers that lead to his unfortunate fate.

Because he never could trust those who looked nice to not be talking behind his back, it lead him to have an instilled distrust of anything conventionally "kind" or "pretty", associating those things with people trying to hide their true nasty nature. He wasn't mean to others because of it or even really hated them for it, it just made him very distrusting, as if he was bracing himself for a rug pull or being dropped. It caused his guard to rise more, feeling like they were trying to compensate for something and catch him off guard.

This instilled distrust of the "normal" in life also carried onto his life outside of school, from things like advertisements with happy smiling people on them (especially ones that looked at the camera), traditionally loved animals like golden retrievers or butterflies, others with almost condescending tones, and homes that felt a little too nice. When at the peak of his paranoid state, just seeing normal people walking around or talking made him start to worry.

In reverse, however, he's less scared of the uncanny, the "if X is true, then there's the opposite Y" mindset he built meant anything strange was just being honest. Plus while he doesn't think about it purposefully, he thinks of them as being similar to him, sort of underdogs and scary for the "normal" ones. To him, if they display their unsettling part on the outside, there can't be much of any on the inside, whether that be something simple like goth people (I like to imagine him adopting the look when he's more comfortable with himself, sort of a reverse where the more goth he is the happier he is and the more casual he is the opposite follows) to outright horror figures being slightly comforting.

P1 Dude's mindset is paradoxically very complex and incredibly simple.

He knows plenty of strategic ideas, writing techniques, big words, and bits and pieces of his past school life still stick with him. He tends to think very deeply about things he does, about life around him, stories, and even more philosophical ideas. Some of it he writes down, and some he lets go. He also enjoys learning new things and sharing those things he learns, even if he does so a little strongly.

Dude does at least try to keep himself somewhat grounded in his thinking, mostly to keep himself from getting trapped in any harmful thinking, hurting the innocent (as far as he can when he's not deep in a bad mindset), and giving too much time to more "out there" conspiracy stuff akin to faked moon landings, aliens, cryptids, or the typical "(insert group of people) caused everything bad ever" ideas, but he tends to get caught in a loop in his thoughts.

He worries about something, because he worries about it that something comes to fruition, that fruition leads to a reinforcement of the idea, and that reinforcing leads back into worrying. It's an awful cycle, and with no real learned way to cope, it only got worse and worse with age. When he's allowed to think, it rarely stops, and though he is self aware at moments, he has no way to correct the behavior.

He's also incredibly prone to a black-and-white idea of the basics of life. Good people and bad, there is no identity behind them, but they're incredibly concrete ideas to him. Some people protect and some people hurt, and he is meant to protect others, at any cost. He has problems handling the idea of a grey, the idea that most things in life aren't binary. It scares him, the idea he can't do good for everyone, and that even if he tried there will still be those who are hurt or unhappy.

A lot of his self-worth was built on the idea of what he did for others, getting good grades, being kind, never complaining, and doing what was expected of him, but when he wasn't able to keep that up his world crumbled below him and no matter what he did he only ended up falling further. Even during that horrific survival state, he had the base idea of keeping those outside safe, deciding he had to handle the infected police force and act as the one to take those suffering out of their misery. It's both selfish and selfless in a way. He wants to do good for others and save everyone but also decides he is the one who gets to decide the fate of those around him to do so.

Part of the simplicity is that "if X then Y" thinking, following almost a rudimentary idea of justification and reasoning. The biggest part of it is him in the moment of combat, focusing on trying to keep himself alive to continue the fight, and it still lingers in the moments in between when he hides in the woods or in abandoned buildings to patch himself up. If he keeps at it he'll have to find a conclusion, there has to be a reason for the wrong, and if there is a source he has to be able to end it, however even before he was still a victim to it, if I do what others want then I'm doing good, if I look normal people will like me, if people like me they won't hurt me anymore, if I become what they want then I'll truly be loved.

It's just not how the world works, no matter how much he wants it to be true.

[the-bi-space-ace]

for the Bad Batch ask game: 8, 24, 31, and 49! (or just a few of those if you’d prefer :D)

I AM GOING TO ANSWER ALL OF THEM THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR THESE!!

8. What song(s) do you associate with the Bad Batch?

I love this question bc I associate a really weird array of songs with The Bad Batch and I am beyond excited to list them.

I Got You by Devon Cole (tears 🥹)

Mr. Know-It-All by Young The Giant (mainly a Tech song for me)

The Less I Know The Better by Tame Impala

Brother by Kodaline

Don’t Leave Me Alone by David Guetta & Anne-Marie (acoustic)

Human by Jon Bellion

Burn The House Down by AJR

everything i wanted by Billie Eilish (mainly bc it gives me Calling Me Home series Echo vibes tbh oof)

This Was A Home Once by Bad Suns

Older by Alec Benjamin

Bonus Tracks:

Going Home by The Aces

Don’t Freak by The Aces (This one is a bonus bc in my head when I hear this song I have always imagined baby Fives and Echo going to 79s for the first time and Echo not being totally sure how he feels about it and Fives basically going ‘hey, don’t freak out. I’m here, you’re smart and capable. A bar is the easiest mission we’ve ever been on.’ idk I get so much inspiration from music tbh.)

^ The Aces are so feel good and endearing and give good fluff inspiration

24. Do you have any hot or controversial takes?

Oh yeah plenty of them tbh lol

My hottest take? Honestly? I’m super disappointed in how cruel people were to people with Tech Lives theories on this damn site. Not just in the way that I’m sad about *gestures to everything* but I have seen some really nasty takes and have blocked people over them even though they were never directed at me. It shows me who you are when you’re cruel to a stranger over simply *checking my notes* wanting their favorite character to be alive. Some people in the Star Wars fandom are mean as hell. Maybe it’s because I’m fandom old (mid 20s) so I’ve been around for over a decade in fandom spaces but I can say that Star Wars fans can be really really mean compared to other fandoms. That’s more of a problem on reddit (never again) but it happens on tumblr and twitter (which I don’t have any longer but have heard… stories.) My little corner is GREAT. No complaints about this little corner I’ve found myself in but every time I venture out I see some shiiiiiiiiit and it takes me a minute to remember that this fandom can be really volatile. This is supposed to be fun. I say my piece, I agree or disagree with other people’s piece. Then I move on. I won’t argue. It ain’t my style. I get really upset when I see people being downright nasty to each other over fandom stuff. Stop it.

Also. Listen. I started in the Teen Wolf and Merlin fandoms in high school. There’s a lot of great stuff to use from those shows but canon was rarely awesome. I got used to letting the fandom do the work, fans shipping everything under the sun, and making up wild plotlines that wouldn’t actually make sense because who even knows what’s going on in the actual show anymore. Fandoms are wild and I like different opinions and different content and everything coming together in a way that is both weird and wonderful. Sometimes people want the entire fandom to like exactly what they like and get really aggressive with other fans over it. That is not my vibe. If I see something I don’t like then it isn’t for me and I move on! Enough said.

Instead of moving on, blocking tags, or blocking users many fans straight up call people names! Start arguments! Post cruel things! It’s stupid! I’ll say it, it’s stupid as hell! Just block shit, man! You can’t control other people. Protect your peace and block stuff you don’t like. I promise it’ll feel better <3

(that was so long I’m so sorry I needed to get that off of my chest so bad lol)

31. What other Star Wars characters (regardless of the timeline) do you think would be BFFs with each Batcher?

(This’ll be fun bc I know very little of the greater Star Wars Universe so some of these are based just on ✨vibes✨)

Omega and Leia Organa! I loved the Kenobi show and I just think these two would get along SO DAMN WELL.

Hunter and…. I’m going to be honest I thought about this over night and I STILL can’t pick somebody. I need to watch more Star Wars

Tech and Luke Skywalker. Flying! Ships! Podracing! This is the only thing I know of Luke Skywalker! They’d bond over this and make ships go faster together so they’d be besties.

Crosshair and Merrin. In the way that I think he’d look at her like she hung the moon and the stars because she’s so cool and she’s scary and Crosshair appreciates intimidating people and would want to see all of the things she can do with her magic even though he’s kind of terrified of her. (I’m projecting, I love Merrin.)

Echo and Cal Kestis. This is an inspired choice, I feel. Cal has a really big connection to protecting people and Echo WOULD LOVE to work with him to protect people from the Empire (play Jedi: Fallen Order 👀)

Wrecker and Chewbacca. Wrecker really thrived in that episode with the wookiees and I think he’d have a great time with Chewbacca.

49. What has been your favorite part about being in the fandom?

All of my friends!!! I’ve made a lot of great friends in the past two years and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s not very easy for me to make friends, if I’m being honest, so having friends that I talk to about the clones and star wars and fic ideas means a lot to me. It is the ultimate draw for me. I love talking to people about things I love, hearing everyone’s opinions, seeing everyone write and create art and do deep dive analysis. I love seeing people run role play blogs and come up with ask games. I love love love the fun parts of fandom just existing. Seeing people get excited about ideas and share them with others and create gifs and have fun. That absolutely has my heart. We’re all just here trying to express ourselves and that is something I think gets overlooked sometimes. This is something we do in our free time. We’re here because we want to be, not because we have to be. It’s a beautiful thing, to find connection over a shared love of something, and I love that. It’s kind of the same thing I love about concerts. Concerts are a unique place where it’s acceptable to have big emotional reactions with other people over the shared love of the music being played for you. For one night you aren’t just a fan of a band standing in a room listening to some people sing at you. You’re a part of the crowd, experiencing a million different emotions all in the same moment but not one of you is feeling the exact same way as the person next to you. It’s a wonderful thing to experience. This fandom, my little corner of it at least, feels about the same. We’re all experiencing life differently, different day to day things, different upbringings, different opinions, likes, and dislikes. But we’re all here, watching the same thing, and coming away with different emotions and opinions.

I think that’s beautiful.

Link To The Ask <3

[pixyys]

At this point, I'm just used to your jokes now. Still doesn't mean that I cringe whenever I hear them /j

Indeed, I suppose I could become novice musicians along with Lippmann. Do you want to join us? It might even be cheap because of a two-in-one deal. I'll keep on learning the piano while you two can learn the violin. Maybe learn some musician pickup lines to impress Lippmann later on.

And for the Chopin? I thought about it again, but I think that it isn't considered sacrilegious. It still sounds nice afterall, and I'm pretty sure Chopin wouldn't mind. But I prefer the piano version as it sounds more clear.

Please don't give your jokes to Lippmann or anybody else. I can put up with it as I'm your brother, but other people will simply die of the cringiness of your corny jokes lmaoo /j. And afterwards I'll actually decapacitate myself because of the amount of terrible jokes I've had to hear. Pianoman don't you dare xD

An old couple, you say? Well, I don't know how to feel about that; we aren't even together. I convinced Silver to finally take a nap, but she just couldn't sleep. So in the end I had to literally hug her and stroke her hair to help her fall asleep... my heart has never pounded so quickly and loudly before.

Oh, my dear sister, how you make me laugh. I just wonder how you haven't thought up of such an easy reply, but I guess I am a genius. And do not worry, your secret is safe with me, because I definitely do not want to be strangled by those wires while being bombarded with your corny jokes.

Really? Is that what you know him for? Well, that Dazai definitely is cunning and mischievous. I'd have you know that he went head-to-head with Iceman, and Iceman even failed to assassinate him, so he isn't a 'poor guy'. And please don't try your jokes on him. He'd quite frankly punch you.

-🎹

P.S. At least you think so? Well, pray tell, what happens in those 'romance novels' that you read? And as for the date? I think it's still too early... however I think I know what Silver feels for me

ahh this is exactly why i love you <3 finee, i'll tone it down with the "cringy" jokes, at least in your presence.

see? i was right when i said you should change your name to "genius man." do you need to ask? i'm definitely down for it. finally, i'll get another chance. this time with the musician pickup lines. there's really no going back if i mess up again. i just hope i won't embarrass myself in either that or my violin learning process. thanks, genius man!

hm. by the way, do you think lippmann is "lippmann" because he has pretty-looking lips? /lmaoooo plss im cryinf asdfjkl anyway-

ooh, i'm glad it isn't some form of artistic sacrilege. i sometimes listen to orchestra performances, but you're right. having a single musical instrument-say, a piano- dedicated to a single piece will make the performance much clearer.

ha! bet! maybe i'll start saying it to someone i probably won't meet again. like the barista i buy my morning coffee from! or the newspaper guy, or the old lady walking her dog down the street-okay that may be a bit too cruel. i'll probably still say one or two things to the men you stationed near our house though. to alleviate their stress and tension for a bit./lmao the saga continues

you.. you what?? brother, you don't even hold me and stroke my hair to sleep when we were toddlers. i think i'm missing something. oooh boy, when's the wedding day? i can't wait to be an aunt. i wonder if it's gonna be a boy? or a girl? or twins! everyone should be invited. we'll have the grandest celebration ever.

aww this is why i love youu (2nd edition). seriously though. err, does this 'nakahara chuuya' has bright orange hair and uh, quite petite in stature? i bumped into him when i was on my way to see you, and he looked quite.. severe. my tongue just acted on its own, and that "axolotl joke" came out. he did give me a nasty sting eye, but i didn't get punched! i guess that's a good thing..? ahaha..

p.s. you know of her feelings?? excellent. this is all according to plan. i'm just a little worried a possible misunderstanding might breach you apart, though. you know, what if she thinks you're feeling attraction to someone else after you asked her about that "crush"? that sounds like a recipe for disaster.